Note return to page 1 1The story on which this play is founded, is related as a true one in Girolamo de la Corte's History of Verona. It was originally published by an anonymous Italian novelist in 1549 at Venice; and again in 1553, at the same place. The first edition of Bandello's work appeared a year later than the last of these already mentioned. Pierre Boisteau copied it with alterations and additions. Belleforest adopted it in the first volume of his collection 1596; but very probably some edition of it yet more ancient had found its way abroad; as, in this improved state, it was translated into English, and published in an octavo volume 1562, but without a name. On this occasion it appears in the form of a poem entitled, The tragicall Historie of Romeus and Juliet. It was republished in 1587, under the same title: “Contayning in it a rare Example of true Constancie: with the subtill Counsels and Practises of an old Fryer, and their Event. Imprinted by R. Robinson.” Among the entries on the Books of the Stationers' Company, I find Feb. 18, 1582. “M. Tottell] Romeo and Juletta.” Again Aug. 5, 1596: “Edward White] a new ballad of Romeo and Juliett.” The same story is found in The Palace of Pleasure: however, Shakespeare was not entirely indebted to Painter's epitome; but rather to the poem already mentioned. Stanyhurst, the translator of Virgil in 1582, enumerates Julietta among his heroines, in a piece which he calls an Epitaph, or Commune Defunctorum: and it appears (as Dr. Farmer has observed), from a passage in Ames's Typographical Antiquities, that the story had likewise been translated by another hand. Captain Breval in his Travels tells us, that he saw at Verona the tomb of these unhappy lovers. Steevens. This story was well known to the English poets before the time of Shakespeare. In an old collection of poems, called “A gorgeous gallery of gallant Inventions, 1578,” I find it mentioned: “Sir Romeus' annoy but trifle seems to mine.” And again, Romeus and Juliet are celebrated in “A poor Knight his Palace of private Pleasures, 1579.” I quote these passages for the sake of observing, that, if Shakespeare had not read Painter's translation, it is not likely that he would have altered the name to Romeo. There was another novel on the subject by L. da Porto; which has been lately printed at Venice. Farmer. The two entries which I have quoted from the books at Stationers' Hall, may possibly dispose Dr. Farmer to retract his observation concerning Shakespeare's change in the names.

Note return to page 2 *This prologue, after the first copy was published in 1597, received several alterations, both in respect of correctness and versification. In the folio it is omitted.—The play was originally performed by the Right Honourable the Lord of Hunsdon his servants. In the first of K. James I. was made an act of parliament for some restraint or limitation of noblemen in the protection of players, or of players under their sanction. Steevens.

Note return to page 3 2we'll not carry coals.] Dr. Warburton very justly observes, that this was a phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries; but, as he has given no instances in support of his declaration, I thought it necessary to subjoin the following: Nash, in his Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1595, says: “We will bear no coles, I warrant you.” So, Skelton: “&lblank; You, I say, Julian, “Wyll you beare no coles?” So, in Marston's Antonio and Mellida, 2nd part, 1602: “He has had wrong, and if I were he, I would bear no coles.” So, in Law Tricks, or, Who would have thought it? a comedy, by John Day, 1608: “I'll carry coals an you will, no horns.” Again, in May Day, a comedy by Chapman, 1610: “You must swear by no man's beard but your own, for that may breed a quarrel: above all things, you must carry no coals.” And again, in the same play: “Now my ancient being a man of an un-coal-carrying spirit, &c.” Again, in B. Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “Here comes one that will carry coals; ergo, will hold my dog.” And, lastly, in the poet's own Hen. V: “At Calais they stole a fireshovel; I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals.” Again, in the Malcontent, 1604, “Great slaves fear better than love, born naturally for a coal-basket.” Steevens. &lblank; carry coals, This phrase continued to be in use down to the middle of the last century. In a little satirical piece of Sir John Birkenhead, intitled, “Two centuries [of Books] of St. Paul's Churchyard, &c.” published after the death of K. Cha. I. No 22. page 50, is inserted “Fire, Fire! a small manual, dedicated to Sir Arthur Haselridge; in which it is plainly proved by a whole chauldron of scripture, that John Lilburn will not carry coals.” By Dr. Gouge. Percy.

Note return to page 4 3&lblank; cruel with the maids;] The first folio reads civil with the maids. Johnson. &lblank; So does the 4to, 1609. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1095

Note return to page 5 4I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.] So it signifies in Randolph's. Muses Looking-Glass, act 3, sc. 3, p. 45. Orgylus. “To bite his thumb at me. Argus. “Why should not a man bite his thumb? Orgylus. “At me? were I scorn'd, to see men bite their thumbs; “Rapiers and daggers, &c.” Dr. Gray. Dr. Lodge, in a pamphlet called Wits Miserie, &c. 1596, has this passage. “Behold next I see Contempt marching forth, giving mee the fico with his thombe in his mouth.” In a translation from Stephens's Apology for Herodotus, in 1607, page 142, I meet with these words: “It is said of the Italians, if they once bite their fingers' ends in a threatning manner, God knows, if they set upon their enemies face to face, it is because they cannot assail them behind their backs.” Perhaps Ben Jonson ridicules this scene of Romeo and Juliet, in his New Inn: “Huff. How, spill it? “Spill it at me? “Tip. I reck not, but I spill it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 6 5Enter Benvolio.] Much of this scene is added since the first edition; but probably by Shakespeare, since we find it in that of the year 1599. Pope.

Note return to page 7 6“Here comes one of my Master's kinsmen.” Some mistake has happened in this place: Gregory is a servant of the Capulets; and Benvolio was of the Montague faction. Farmer. Perhaps there is no mistake. Gregory may mean Tybalt, who enters immediately after Benvolio, but on a different part of the stage. The eyes of the servant may be directed the way he sees Tybalt coming, and in the mean time, Benvolio enters on the opposite side. Steevens.

Note return to page 8 7&lblank; thy swashing blow.] Ben Jonson uses this expression in his Staple for News: “I do confess a swashing blow.” In the Three Ladies of London, 1584, Fraud says: “I will flaunt it and brave it after the lusty Swash.” Again, in As you like it: “I'll have a martial and a swashing outside.” To swash seems to have meant to be a bully, to be noisily valiant. So, Green, in his Card of Fancy, 1608, “&lblank; in spending and spoiling, in swearing and swashing.” Barrett, in his Alvearie, 1580, says, that “to swash is to make a noise with swordes against “tergats.” Steevens.

Note return to page 9 8Give me my long sword.] The long sword was the sword used in war, which was sometimes wielded with both hands. Johnson. This long sword is mentioned in The Coxcomb, a comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher, where the justice says: “Take their confessions, and my long sword; “I cannot tell what danger we may meet with.” It appears that it was once the fashion to wear two swords of different sizes at the same time. So in Decker's Satiromastix: “Peter Salamander, tie up your great and your little sword.” Steevens.

Note return to page 10 9&lblank; mis-temper'd weapons, are angry weapons. So in K. John: “This inundation of mis-temper'd humour, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 11 1Peer'd forth the golden window of the east.] The same thought occurs in Spenser's Faery Queen, B. 2. C. 10. “Early before the morn with cremosin ray   “The windows of bright heaven opened had,   “Through which into the world the dawning day   “Might looke, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 12 2That most are busied, &c.] Edition 1597. Instead of which it is in the other edition thus: &lblank; by my own, Which then most sought, where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursu'd my humour, &c. Pope.

Note return to page 13 3And gladly shunn'd, &c.] The ten lines following, not in edition 1597, but in the next of 1599. Pope.

Note return to page 14 4Ben. Have you importun'd, &c.] These two speeches also omitted in edition 1597, but inserted in 1599. Pope.

Note return to page 15 5Or dedicate his beauty to the same.] When we come to consider, that there is some power else besides balmy air, that brings forth, and makes the tender buds spread themselves, I do not think it improbable that the poet wrote, Or dedicate his beauty to the Sun. Or, according to the more obsolete spelling, Sunne; which brings it nearer to the traces of the corrupted text, Theobald. I cannot but suspect that some lines are lost, which connected this simile more closely with the foregoing speech: these lines, if such there were, lamented the danger that Romeo will die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities were known to the world. Johnson. I suspect no loss of connecting lines. The same expression occurs in Timon, Act. 4. Sc. 2. “A dedicated beggar to the air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 16 6Is the day so young? i. e. is it so early in the day? The same expression (which might once have been popular) I meet with in Acolastus, a comedy 1529: “It is yet young nyghte, or there is yet moche of the nyghte to come.” Steevens.

Note return to page 17 7Rom. Out &lblank;] I take out not to be an imperfect part of a sentence cut off by aposiopesis; but rather the interjection still used in the north, where they say Out! much in the same sense as we say fye!—Romeo indeed afterwards tags a sentence with it, but that he is led into by Benvolio's supplement to the first Out. So, in another scene of this play:—Out alas! she's cold. Percy. Why should Romeo say, fye! on being asked if he were in love? Does he not acknowledge his being so, in the very next line? Would he, a character all made up of love, use such terms of resentment or shame, as Out! or fye! on being suspected of a passion in which he gloried? Steevens.

Note return to page 18 8&lblank; to his will!] Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read, to his ill. The present reading has some obscurity; the meaning may be, that love finds out means to pursue his desire. That the blind should find paths to ill is no great wonder. Johnson. I see no obscurity in the text. It is not unusual for those who are blinded by love to overlook every difficulty that opposes their pursuit. Nichols. The quarto 1597, reads Should, without laws, give path-ways to our will! This reading is the most intelligible. Steevens.

Note return to page 19 9Why then, O brawling love, &c.] Of these lines neither the sense nor occasion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an enemy; and to love one and hate another is no such uncommon state, as can deserve all this toil of antithesis. Johnson. Had Dr. Johnson attended to the letter of invitation in the next scene, he would have found that Rosaline was niece to Capulet. Anonymous. Every sonnetteer characterises Love by contrarieties. Watson begins one of his canzonets: “Love is a sowre delight, a sugred griefe, “A living death, an ever-dying life, &c.” Turberville makes Reason harangue against it in the same manner: “A fierie frost, a flame that frozen is with ise! “A heavie burden light to beare! a vertue fraught with vice! &c.” Immediately from the Romaunt of the Rose: “Loue it is an hatefull pees, “A free aquitaunce without reles &lblank; “An heavie burthen light to beare, “A wicked wawe awaie to weare: “And health full of maladie, “And charitie full of envie &lblank; “A laughter that in weping aie, “Rest that trauaileth night and daie, &c.” This kind of antithesis was very much the taste of the Provencal and Italian poets; perhaps it might be hinted by the ode of Sappho preserved by Longinus. Petrarch is full of it: “Pace non trovo, e non hó da far guerra, “E temo, e spero, e ardo, e son un ghiaccio, “E volo sopra'l ciel, e ghiaccio in terra, “E nulla stringo, e tutto'l mondo abbraccio, &c.” Son. 105. Sir Tho. Wyat gives a translation of this sonnet, without any notice of the original, under the title of, Description of the contrarious Passions in a Louer, amongst the Songes and Sonnettes, by the Earle of Surrey, and others, 1574. Farmer.

Note return to page 20 1Why, such is love's transgression. &lblank;] Such is the consequence of unskilful and mistaken kindness. Johnson.

Note return to page 21 2Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;] The author may mean being purged of smoke, but it is perhaps a meaning never given to the word in any other place. I would rather read, Being urg'd, a fire sparkling. Being excited and inforced. To urge the fire is the technical term. Johnson.

Note return to page 22 3Being vex'd, &c.] As this line stands single, it is likely that the foregoing or following line that rhym'd to it is lost. Johnson. It does not seem necessary to suppose any line lost. In the former speech about Love's contrarieties, there are several lines which have no other to rhime with them; as also in the following, about Rosalind's chastity. Steevens.

Note return to page 23 4Tell me in sadness,] That is, tell me gravely, tell me in seriousness. Johnson.

Note return to page 24 5And in strong proof &c.] As this play was written in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, I cannot help regarding these speeches of Romeo as an oblique compliment to her majesty, who was not liable to be displeased at hearing her chastity praised after she was suspected to have lost it, or her beauty commended in the 67th year of her age, though she never possessed any when she was young. Her declaration that she would continue unmarried increases the probability of the present supposition. Steevens.

Note return to page 25 6&lblank; in strong proof] In chastity of proof, as we say in armour of proof. Johnson.

Note return to page 26 7&lblank; with beauty dies her store.] Mr. Theobald reads, “With her dies beauty's store;” and is followed by the two succeeding editors. I have replaced the old reading, because I think it at least as plausible as the correction. She is rich, says he, in beauty, and only poor in being subject to the lot of humanity, that her store, or riches, can be destroyed by death, who shall, by the same blow, put an end to beauty. Johnson. Theobald's alteration may be countenanced by the following passage in Swetnam Arraign'd, a comedy, 1620: “Nature now shall boast no more “Of the riches of her store; “Since, in this her chiefest prize, “All the stock of beauty dies.” Again, in the 14th Sonnet of Shakespeare: “Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.” Again, in Massinger's Virgin-Martyr: “&lblank; with her dies “The abstract of all sweetness that's in woman.” Steevens.

Note return to page 27 8Rom. She hath, and in that sparing, &c.] None of the following speeches of this scene are in the first edition of 1597. Pope.

Note return to page 28 9For beauty, starv'd with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all posterity.] So in our author's Third Sonnet. “Or who is he so fond will be the tomb “Of his self-love, to stop posterity?” Malone.

Note return to page 29 1&lblank; too wisely fair.] Hanmer. For wisely too fair. Johnson.

Note return to page 30 2These happy masks, &c.] i. e. the masks worn by female spectators of the play. Former editors print those instead of these, but without authority. Steevens.

Note return to page 31 3Thou canst not teach me to forget.] “Of all afflictions taught a lover yet, “'Tis sure the hardest science, to forget.”— Pope's Eloisa. Steevens.

Note return to page 32 4And too soon marr'd are those so early made.] The 4to, 1597, reads:—And too soon marr'd are those so early married. Puttenham, in his Art of Poetry, 1589, uses this expression, which seems to be proverbial, as an instance of a figure which he calls the Rebound: “The maid that soon married is, soon marred is.” The jingle between marr'd and made is likewise frequent among the old writers. So Sidney: “Oh! he is marr'd that is for others made!” Spenser introduces it very often in his different poems. Steevens.

Note return to page 33 5She is the hopeful lady of my earth.] This line is not in the first edition. Pope. The lady of his earth is an expression not very intelligible, unless he means that she is heir to his estate, and I suppose no man ever called his lands his earth. I will venture to propose a bold change: She is the hope and stay of my full years. Johnson. She is the hopeful lady of my earth.—This is a Gallicism: Fille de terre is the French phrase for an heiress. King Richard II. calls his land, i. e. his kingdom, his earth: “Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth.” Again, “So weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth.” Earth, in other old plays is likewise put for lands, i. e. landed estate. So in a Trick to catch the old one, 1619: “A rich widow and four hundred a year in good earth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 34 6Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light:] This nonsense should be reformed thus: Earth-treading stars that make dark even light: i. e. When the evening is dark, and without stars, these earthly stars supply their place, and light it up. So again in this play: Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear. Warburton. But why nonsense? Is any thing more commonly said, than that beauties eclipse the sun? Has not Pope the thought and the word? “Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray, “And op'd those eyes that must eclipse the day.” Both the old and the new reading are philosophical nonsense; but they are both, and both equally, poetical sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 35 7&lblank; do lusty young men feel] To say, and to say in pompous words, that a young man shall feel as much in an assembly of beauties, as young men feel in the month of April, is surely to waste sound upon a very poor sentiment. I read: Such comfort as do lusty yeomen feel. You shall feel from the sight and conversation of these ladies, such hopes of happiness and such pleasure, as the farmer receives from the spring, when the plenty of the year begins, and the prospect of the harvest fills him with delight. Johnson. The following passage from Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose, will support the present reading, and shew the propriety of Shakespeare's comparison: for to tell Paris that he should feel the same sort of pleasure in an assembly of beauties, which young folk feel in that season when they are most gay and amorous, was surely as much as the old man ought to say: “That it was May, thus dremid me, “In time of love and jolite, “That al thing ginnith waxin gay, &c.— “Then yonge folke entendin aye, “For to ben gaie and amorous, “The time is then so savorous.” Romaunt of the Rose, v. 51, &c. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1098

Note return to page 36 8Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none.] The first of these lines I do not understand. The old folio gives no help; the passage is there, Which one more view. I can offer nothing better than this: Within your view of many, mine being one, May stand in number, &c. Johnson. A very slight alteration will restore the clearest sense to this passage. Shakespeare might have written the lines thus: Search among view of many: mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none. i. e. Amongst the many you will view there, search for one that will please you. Chuse out of the multitude. This agrees exactly with what he had already said to him: &lblank; Hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be.” My daughter (he proceeds) will, it is true, be one of the number, but her beauty can be of no reckoning (i. e. estimation) among those whom you will see here. Reckoning for estimation, is used before in this very scene: “Of honourable reckoning are you both.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1099

Note return to page 37 9Find them out, whose names are written here?] The quarto, 1597, adds. “And yet I know not who are written here: I must to the learned to learn of them; that's as much as to say, the tailor, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 38 1Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.] Tackius tells us, that a toad, before she engages with a spider, will fortify herself with some of this plant; and that, if she comes off wounded, she cures herself afterwards with it. Dr. Gray. The same thought occurs in Albumazar, in the following lines: “Help, Armellina, help! I'm fall'n i' the cellar: “Bring a fresh plantain leaf, I've broke my shin.” Again, in The Case is Alter'd, by Ben Jonson 1609, a fellow who has had his head broke, says: “'Tis nothing, a fillip, a device: fellow Juniper, prithee get me a plantain.” The plantain leaf is a blood-stauncher, and was formerly applied to green wounds. Steevens.

Note return to page 39 2&lblank; to supper?] Surely these words, to supper, must belong to the servant's answer in the next speech: To supper, to our house. Steevens.

Note return to page 40 3&lblank; crush a cup of wine.] This cant expression seems to have been once common among low people. I have met with it often in the old plays. So in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “Fill the pot, hostess, &c. and we'll crush it.” Again, in Hoffman's Tragedy, 1631: “&lblank; we'll crush a cup of thine own country wine.” Again, in the Pinder of Wakefield, 1599, the Cobler says: “Come, George, we'll crush a pot before we part.” We still say in cant language—to crack a bottle. Steevens.

Note return to page 41 4&lblank; let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid] But the comparison was not betwixt the love that Romeo's mistress paid him, and the person of any other young woman; but betwixt Romeo's mistress herself, and some other that should be matched against her. The poet therefore must certainly have wrote: Your lady-love against some other maid. Warburton. Your lady's love is the love you bear to your lady, which in our language is commonly used for the lady herself. Revisal.

Note return to page 42 5&lblank; to my teen &lblank;] To my sorrow. Johnson. So, in Tancred and Guismund, 1592: “And on his cinders wreak my cruel teen.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, B 1. C. 9. “&lblank; for dread and doleful teen.” This old word is introduced by Shakespeare for the sake of the jingle between teen, and four, and fourteen. Steevens.

Note return to page 43 6It is since the earthquake now eleven years;] But how comes the nurse to talk of an earthquake upon this occasion? There is no such circumstance, I believe, mentioned in any of the novels from which Shakespeare may be supposed to have drawn his story; and therefore it seems probable, that he had in view the earthquake, which had really been felt in many parts of England in his own time, viz. on the 6th of April 1580. [See Stowe's Chronicle, and Gabriel Harvey's letter in the preface to Spenser's works, ed. 1679.] If so, one may be permitted to conjecture, that Romeo and Juliet, or this part of it at least, was written in 1591; after the 6th of April, when the eleven years since the earthquake were completed; and not later than the middle of July, a fortnight and odd days before Lammas-tide. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 44 7Well, I do bear a brain.] So, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611. “Dash, we must bear some brain.” Again, in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, 1604: “&lblank; nay an I bear not a brain.” Again, in Heywood's Golden Age, 1611: “As I can bear a pack, so I can bear a brain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 45 8&lblank; could stand alone.] The 4to, 1597, reads: “could stand high lone, i. e. quite alone, completely alone. So in another of our author's plays, high fantastical means entirely fantastical. Steevens.

Note return to page 46 9&lblank; it stinted.] i. e. it stopped, it forbore from weeping. So Sir Thomas North, in his translation of Plutarch, speaking of the wound which Antony received, says: “for the blood stinted a little when he was laid.” So in Titus Andronicus: “He can at pleasure stint their melody.” Again, in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1607: “&lblank; a letter “New bleeding from their pens, scarce stinted yet.” Again, in Cynthia's Revenge, by Ben Jonson: “Stint thy babbling tongue.” Again, in What you will, by Marston, 1607: “Pish! for shame stint thy idle chat.” Again, in the Misfortunes of King Arthur, an ancient drama, 1587: “&lblank; Fame's but a blast that sounds a while, “And quickly stints, and then is quite forgot.” Spenser uses this word frequently in his Faerie Queene. Steevens.

Note return to page 47 1Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot chuse, &c.] This speech and tautology is not in the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 48 2It is an honour] The modern editors all read, it is an honour. I have restored the genuine word, hour, which is more seemly from a girl to her mother. Your, fire, and such words as are vulgarly uttered in two syllables, are used as dissyllables by Shakespeare. Johnson. The first quarto reads honour; the folio hour. I have chosen the reading of the quarto. The word hour seems to have nothing in it that could draw from the Nurse that applause which she immediately bestows. The word honour was likely to strike the old ignorant woman, as a very elegant and discreet word for the occasion. Steevens.

Note return to page 49 3Instead of this speech, the quarto, 1597, has only one line: Well, girl, the noble County Paris seeks thee for his wife. Steevens.

Note return to page 50 4&lblank; a man of wax.] So, in Wily Beguiled: “Why, he's a man as one should picture him in wax.” Steevens.

Note return to page 51 5Nurse.] After this speech of the Nurse, Lady Capulet in the old quarto says only: “Well, Juliet, how like you of Paris' love?” She answers, “I'll look to like, &c.” and so concludes the scene. without the intervention of that stuff to be found in the later quartos and the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 52 6La. Cap. What say you? &c.] This ridiculous speech is entirely added since the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 53 7Read o'er the volume &c.] The same thought occurs in Pericles Prince of Tyre: “Her face the book of praises, where is read “Nothing but curious pleasures.” Steevens.

Note return to page 54 8Examine ev'ry several lineament,] The quarto, 1599, reads, every married lineament.—Shakespeare meant by this last phrase, Examine how nicely one feature depends upon another, or accords with another, in order to produce that harmony of the whole face which seems to be implied in content.—In Troilus and Cressida, he speaks of “the married calm of states;” and in his 8th Sonnet has the same allusion: “If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, “By unions married, do offend thine ear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 55 9&lblank; the margin of his eyes.] The comments on ancient books were always printed in the margin. So Horatio in Hamlet says: “—I knew you must be edify'd by the margent, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 56 1That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;] The golden story is perhaps the golden legend, a book in the darker ages of popery much read, and doubtless often exquisitely embellished, but of which Canus, one of the popish doctors, proclaims the author to have been homo ferrei oris, plumbei cordis. Johnson. The poet may mean nothing more than to say, that those books are most esteemed by the world, where valuable contents are embellished by as valuable binding. Steevens.

Note return to page 57 2&lblank; endart mine eye,] The quarto 1597, reads: “engage mine eye.” Steevens.

Note return to page 58 3To this speech there have been likewise additions since the elder quarto, but they are not of sufficient consequence to be quoted. Steevens.

Note return to page 59 4Mercutio.] Shakespeare appears to have formed this character on the following slight hint in the original story: “&lblank; another gentleman called Mercutio, which was a courtlike gentleman, very wel beloved of all men, and by reason of his pleasant and curteous behavior was in al companies wel intertained.” Painter's Palace of Pleasure, tom. 2. p. 221. Steevens.

Note return to page 60 5The date is out of such prolixity.] i. e. Masks are now out of fashion. That Shakespeare was an enemy to these fooleries, appears from his writing none; and that his plays discredited such entertainments, is more than probable. But in James's time, that reign of false taste as well as false politics, they came again in fashion; and a deluge of this affected nonsense overflowed the court and country. Warburton. The diversion going forward at present is not a masque but a masquerade. In Henry VIII. where the king introduces himself to the entertainment given by Wolsey, he appears, like Romeo and his companions, in a mask, and sends a messenger before, to make an apology for his intrusion. This was a custom observed by those who came uninvited, with a desire to conceal themselves for the sake of intrigue, or to enjoy the greater freedom of conversation. Their entry on these occasions was always prefaced by some speech in praise of the beauty of the ladies, or the generosity of the entertainer; and to the prolixity of such introductions I believe Romeo is made to allude. So, in Histriomastix, 1610, a man expresses his wonder that the maskers enter without any compliment: “What come they in so blunt, without device?” In the accounts of many entertainments given in reigns antecedent to that of Elizabeth, I find this custom preserved. Of the same kind of masquerading, see a specimen in Timon, where Cupid precedes a troop of ladies with a speech. Steevens. Shakespeare has written a masque which the reader will find introduced in the 4th act of the Tempest. It would have been difficult for the reverend annotator to have proved they were discontinued during any period of Shakespeare's life. Percy.

Note return to page 61 6&lblank; like a crow-keeper;] The word crow-keeper is explained in Lear. Johnson.

Note return to page 62 7Nor no without-book prologue, &c.] The two following lines are inserted from the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 63 8Give me a torch,] The character which Romeo declares his resolution to assume, will be best explained by a passage in Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “He is just like a torch-bearer to maskers; he wears good cloaths, and is ranked in good company, but he doth nothing.” A torch-bearer seems to have been a constant attendant on every troop of masks. So, in the second part of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 1601: “&lblank; As on a masque; but for our torch-bearers, “Hell cannot rake so mad a crew as I.” Again, in the same play: “&lblank; a gallant crew, “Of courtly maskers landed at the stairs; “Before whom, unintreated, I am come, “And here prevented, I believe, their page, “Who, with his torch, is enter'd.” Again, in the Merchant of Venice: ““We have not spoke as yet of torch-bearers.” Again, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: “Night, like a masque, is enter'd heaven's great hall, “With thousand torches ushering the way.” Steevens.

Note return to page 64 9Mer. You are a lover, &c.] The twelve following lines are not to be found in the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 65 1&lblank; so bound, I cannot bound, &c.] Let Milton's example, on this occasion, keep Shakespeare in countenance: “&lblank; in contempt “At one slight bound high over-leap'd all bound “Of hill, &c.” Par. Lost, book iv. l. 180. Steevens.

Note return to page 66 2&lblank; doth quote deformities?] To quote is to observe. So, in Hamlet, Act 2. Sc. 1. I am sorry, that with better heed and judgment I had not quoted him. See a note on this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 67 3Let wantons light of heart, &c.] Middleton has borrowed this thought in his play of Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “&lblank; bid him, whose heart no sorrow feels, “Tickle the rushes with his wanton heels, “I have too much lead at mine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 68 4Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;] It has been already observed, that it was anciently the custom to strew rooms with rushes, before carpets were in use. So Hentzner in his Itinerary, speaking of Q. Elizabeth's presence-chamber at Greenwich, says: “The floor, after the English fashion, was strewed with hay,” meaning rushes. So, in the Dumb Knight, 1633: “Thou dancest on my heart, lascivious queen, “Even as upon these rushes which thou treadest.” The stage was anciently strewn with rushes. So, in Decker's Gul's Hornbook, 1609: “&lblank; on the very rushes when the commedy is to daunce.” Steevens.

Note return to page 69 5The grandsire phrase is—The black ox has trod upon my foot. Johnson. The proverb which Romeo means, is contain'd in the line immediately following: To hold the candle, is a very common proverbial expression, for being an idle spectator. Among Ray's proverbial sentences, is this—“A good candle-holder proves good gamester.” Steevens.

Note return to page 70 6Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:] This poor obscure stuff should have an explanation in mere charity. It is an answer to these two lines of Romeo: For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;—and The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. Mercutio, in his reply, answers the last line first. The thought of which, and of the preceding, is taken from gaming. I'll be a candle-holder (says Romeo) and look on. It is true, if I could play myself, I could never expect a fairer chance than in the company we are going to: but, alas! I am done. I have nothing to play with; I have lost my heart already. Mercutio catches at the word done, and quibbles with it, as if Romeo had said, The ladies indeed are fair, but I am dun, i. e. of a dark complexion. And so replies, Tut! dun's the mouse; a proverbial expression of the same import with the French, La nuit tous les chats sont gris: as much as to say, You need not fear, night will make all your complexions alike. And because Romeo had introduced his observations with, I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, Mercutio adds to his reply, the constable's own word: as much as to say, If you are for old proverbs, I'll fit you with one; 'tis the constable's own word; whose custom was, when he summoned his watch, and assigned them their several stations, to give them what the soldiers call, the word. But this night-guard being distinguished for their pacific character, the constable, as an emblem of their harmless disposition, chose that domestic animal for his word: which, in time, might become proverbial. Warburton. A proverbial saying, used by Mr. Tho. Heywood, in his play, intitled The Dutchess of Suffolk, act 3. “A rope for Bishop Bonner, Clunce run, “Call help, a rope, or we are all undone. “Draw dun out of the ditch.” Dr. Gray. Draw dun out of the mire, seems to have been a game. In an old collection of Satyres, Epigrams, &c. I find it enumerated among other pastimes: “At shove-groate, venter-point, or crosse and pile, “At leaping o'er a Midsommer bone-fier, “Or at the drawing dun out of the myer.” So, Skelton, in his Crowne of Lawrel: “Dun is in the mire, dame, reach me my spur.” Again, in Humour out of Breath, a comedy, 1607: “I must play dun, and draw them all out of the mire.” Again, in St. Patrick for Ireland, by Shirley, 1640: “Then draw dun out of the mire, “And throw the clog into the fire.” Dun's the mouse is a proverbial phrase, which I have likewise met with frequently in the old comedies. So in Every Woman in her Humour, 1609: “If my host say the word, the mouse shall be dun.” It is also found among Ray's proverbial similes. Again, in the Two merry Milkmaids, 1620: “Why then 'tis done, and dun's the mouse, and undone all the courtiers.” Of this cant expression I cannot determine the precise meaning. It is used again in Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607, but apparently in a sense different from that which Dr. Warburton would affix to it. Steevens.

Note return to page 71 7Or (save your reverence) love, &lblank;] The word or obscures the sentence; we should read O! for or love. Mercutio having called the affection with which Romeo was entangled by so disrespectful a word as mire, cries out, O! save your reverence, love. Johnson. Mercutio's meaning is lost if we dismiss the word or. “We'll draw thee from the mire (says he) or rather from this love wherein thou stick'st.” Dr. Johnson has imputed a greater share of politeness to Mercutio than he is found to be possessed of in the quarto, 1597. Mercutio, as he passes through different editions, “Works himself clear, and as he runs refines:” for in the former he is made to say, &lblank; from the mire Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st. Steev.

Note return to page 72 8&lblank; we burn day-light, ho.] To burn daylight is a proverbial expression, used when candles &c. are lighted in the day time. Steevens.

Note return to page 73 9&lblank; like lamps by day.] Lamps is the reading of the oldest quarto. The folio and subsequent quartos read lights, lights by day. Steevens.

Note return to page 74 1Five times in that.] The quarto, 1597, reads: “Three times a day;” and right wits, instead of fine wits. Steevens.

Note return to page 75 2In the quarto 1597, after the first line of Mercutio's speech, Romeo says, Queen Mab, what's she? and the printer, by a blunder, has given all the rest of the speech to the same character. Steevens.

Note return to page 76 3O, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife,] Thus begins that admirable speech upon the effects of the imagination in dreams. But, Queen Mab the fairies mid-wife? What is she then Queen of? Why, the fairies. What! and their midwife too? But this is not the greatest of the absurdities. Let us see upon what occasion she is introduced, and under what quality. It is as a being that has great power over human imagination. But then the title given her must have reference to the employment she is put upon: First then, she is called Queen: which is very pertinent, for that designs her power: then she is called the fairies' midwife; but what has that to do with the point in hand? If we would think that Shakespeare wrote sense, we must say, he wrote—the fancy's midwife; and this is a proper title, as it introduces all that is said afterwards of her vagaries. Besides, it exactly quadrates with these lines: &lblank; I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasie. These dreams are begot upon fantasie, and Mab is the midwife to bring them forth. And fancy's midwife is a phrase altogether in the manner of our authour. Warburton. All the copies (three of which were published in our author's life-time) concur in reading fairies' midwife, and Dr. Warburton's alteration appears to be quite unnecessary. The fairies' midwife does not mean the midwife to the fairies, but that she was the person among the fairies, whose department it was to deliver the fancies of sleeping men of their dreams, those children of an idle brain. When we say the king's judges, we do not mean persons who are to judge the king, but persons appointed by him to judge his subjects. Steevens.

Note return to page 77 4On the fore-finger of an alderman] The quarto, 1597, reads, of a burgo-master. The alteration was probably made by the poet himself, as we find it in the succeeding copy 1599; but in order to familiarize the idea, he has diminished its propriety. In the pictures of burgo-masters, the ring is generally placed on the forefinger; and from a passage in The First Part of Henry IV. we may suppose the citizens in Shakespeare's time to have worn this ornament on the thumb. So again, Glapthorne, in his comedy of Wit in a Constable, 1639: “&lblank; and an alderman, “As I may say to you, he has no more “Wit than the rest o' the bench; and that lies in his thumb-ring.” Steevens.

Note return to page 78 5&lblank; of atomies] Atomy is no more than an obsolete substitute for atom. So, in the Two Merry Milkmaids, 1620: “&lblank; I can tear thee “As small as atomies, and throw thee off “Like dust before the wind.” Again, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “I'll tear thy limbs into more atomies “Than in the summer play before the sun.” In Drayton's Nimphidia there is likewise a description of Queen Mab's chariot: Four nimble Gnats the Horses were, Their Harnesses of Gossamere, Fly Cranion, her Charioteer,   Upon the coach-box getting: Her Chariot of a Snail's fine Shell, Which for the Colours did excell, The fair Queen Mab becoming well,   So lively was the limning: The Seat, the soft Wool of the Bee, The Cover (gallantly to see) The Wing of a py'd Butterflee,   I trow, 'twas simple trimming: The wheels compos'd of Cricket's Bones, And daintily made for the nonce, For Fear of rattling on the Stones,   With Thistle-down they shod it. Steevens.

Note return to page 79 6Sometime she gallops o'er a lawyer's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit:] The old editions have it, courtier's nose; and this undoubtedly is the true reading: and for these reasons: First, In the present reading there is a vicious repetition in this fine speech; the same thought having been given in the foregoing line; O'er lawyers' fingers, who strait dream on fees: Nor can it be objected that there will be the same fault if we read courtiers', it having been said before: On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies strait; because they are shewn in two places under different views: in the first, their foppery; in the second, their rapacity is ridiculed. Secondly, In our authour's time, a court-solicitation was called, simply, a suit; and a process, a suit at law, to distinguish it from the other. “The King” (says an anonymous cotemporary writer of the life of Sir William Cecil) “called him [Sir William Cecil] and after long talk with him, being much delighted with his answers, willed his father to find [i. e. to smell out] a suit for him. Whereupon he became suiter for the reversion of the Custosbrevium office in the Common Pleas: which the king willingly granted, it being the first suit he had in his life.” Indeed our poet has very rarely turned his satire against lawyers and law proceedings, the common topic of later writers: for, to observe it to the honour of the English judicatures, they preserved the purity and simplicity of their first institution, long after chicane had over-run all the other laws of Europe. Warburton. In these lines Dr. Warburton has very justly restored the old reading courtier's nose, and has explained the passage with his usual learning; but I do not think he is so happy in his endeavour to justify Shakespeare from the charge of a vicious repetition in introducing the courtier twice. The second folio, I observe, reads: On countries knees: &lblank; which has led me to conjecture, that the line ought to be read thus: On counties knees, that dream on courtsies strait: &lblank; Counties I understand to signify noblemen in general. Paris, who, in one place, I think, is called earl, is most commonly stiled the countie in this play. And so in Much Ado about Nothing, Act 4. we find: “Princes and counties.” And in All's well that Ends well, Act 3: “A ring the County wears.” The Countie Egmond is so called more than once in Holingshead, p. 1150, and in the Burleigh papers, vol. I. p. 204. See also p. 7, The Countie Palatine Lowys. However, perhaps, it is as probable that the repetition of the Courtier, which offends us in this passage, may be owing (not to any error of the press, but) to the players having jumbled together the varieties of several editions, as they certainly have done in other parts of the play. Tyrwhitt. At the first entry of the characters in the History of Orlando Furioso, played before Queen Elizabeth, and published in 1594 and 1599, Sacripant is called the Countie Sacripant. Again, Orlando, speaking of himself: “Surnam'd Orlando, the Countie Palatine.” Countie is at least repeated twenty times in the same play. This speech at different times received much alteration and improvement. The part of it in question, stands thus in the quarto 1597: And in this sort she gallops up and down Through lovers braines, and then they dream of love: O'er courtiers knees, who strait on cursies dreame: O'er ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait; Which oft the angrie Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometimes she gallops o'er a lawyer's lap, And then dreames he of smelling out a suit: And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's taile, Tickling a parson's nose that lies asleepe, And then dreames he of another benefice. Sometimes she gallops o'er a souldier's nose, And then dreames he of cutting forraine throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, countermines, Of healths five fadome deep, &c. Shakespeare, as I have observed before, did not always attend to the propriety of his own alterations. Steevens.

Note return to page 80 7Spanish blades,] A sword is called a toledo, from the excellence of the Toletan steel. So Grotius: “&lblank; Enfis Toletanus “Unda Tagi non est alio celebranda metallo, “Utilis in cives est ibi lamna suos.” Johnson. The quarto 1597, instead of Spanish blades, reads countermines. Steevens.

Note return to page 81 8And cakes the elf-locks, &c.] This was a common superstition; and seems to have had its rife from the horrid disease called the Plica Polonica. Warburton. All the old copies that I have seen, concur in reading, “and bakes, &c.” Mr. Pope first made the alteration, which does not appear to be absolutely necessary. Steevens.

Note return to page 82 9&lblank; when maids, &c.] So, in Drayton's Nymphidia: And Mab, his merry Queen, by Night Bestrides young Folks that lie upright (In elder Times the Mare that high)   Which plagues them out of measure. So, in Gervase of Tilbury, Dec. 1, C. 17. Vidimus quosdam dæmones tanto zelo mulieres amare, quod ad inaudita prorumpunt ludibria, et cum ad concubitum earum accedunt, mirâ mole eas oprimunt, nec ab aliis videntur. &lblank; of good carriage.] So, in Love's Labour's Lost, Act 1. Sc. 2. “&lblank; let them be men of good repute and carriage. Moth. Sampson, master; he was a man of good carriage; great carriage; for he carried the town-gates, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 83 1&lblank; from thence.] The quarto 1597, reads:—“in haste.” Steevens.

Note return to page 84 2Direct my sail!] I have restored this reading from the elder quarto, as being more congruous to the metaphor in the preceeding line. Suit is the reading of the folio. Steevens. Direct my suit!] Guide the sequel of the adventure. Johnson.

Note return to page 85 3Strike drum.] Here the folio adds: They march about the stage, and serving men come forth with their napkins. Steevens.

Note return to page 86 4This scene is added since the first copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 87 5&lblank; he shift a trencher, &c.] Trenchers were still used by persons of good fashion in our author's time. In the houshold book of the earls of Northumberland, compiled at the beginning of the same century, it appears that they were common to the tables of the first nobility. Percy. They continued common much longer in many public societies, particularly in colleges and inns of court; and are still retained at Lincoln's-Inn. Nichols.

Note return to page 88 6&lblank; court-cupboard,] I am not very certain that I know the exact signification of court-cupboard. Perhaps it is what we call at present the side-board. It is however, frequently mentioned in the old plays: so, in a Humorous, Day's Mirth, 1509: “&lblank; shadow these tables with their white veils, and accomplish the court cupboard.” Again, in Monsieur D'Olive, 1606, by Chapman: “Here shall stand my court-cupboard with its furniture of plate.” Again, in the Roaring Girl, 1611: “Place that in the court cupboard.” “Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “&lblank; they are together on the cupboard of the court, or the court-cupboard.” Again, in Chapman's May-Day, 1611: “Court-cupboards planted with Flaggons, Cans, Cups, Beakers, &c.” Two of these court-cupboards are still in Stationers' Hall. Steevens. The use which to this day is made of those cupboards is exactly described in the above-quoted line of Chapman; to display at public festivals the flaggons, cans, cups, beakers, and other antique silver vessels of the company, some of which (with the names of the donors inscribed on them) are remarkably large. Nichols.

Note return to page 89 7Save me a piece of march-pane;] March-pane was a confection made of pistacho-nuts, almonds, and sugar, &c. and in high esteem in Shakespeare's time; as appears from the account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainment in Cambridge. It is said that the university presented Sir William Cecil their chancellor with two pair of gloves, a march-pane, and two sugar-loaves. Peck's Desiderata Curiosa, vol. ii. p. 29. Gray. March-pane was a kind of sweet bread or biscuit; called by some almond-cake. Hermolaus barbarus terms it mazapanis, vulgarly martius panis. G. macepain and massepain. It. marzapane. H. maçapan. B. marcepeyn, i. e. massa pura. But, as few understood the meaning of this term, it began to be generally though corruptly called massepeyn, marcepeyn, martsepeyn; and in consequence of this mistake of theirs it soon took the name of martius panis, an appellation transferred afterwards into other languages. See Junius. Hawkins. March-pane was a constant article in the deserts of our ancestors. So, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “&lblank; seeing that the issue of the table, fruits and chese or wafers hypocras and marchpanes or comfytures, be brought in.” See Dugdale's Orig. Jurid. p. 133. Steevens.

Note return to page 90 8You're welcome, gentlemen.] These two lines, omitted by the modern editors, I have replaced from the folio. Johnson.

Note return to page 91 9A hall! a hall!] Such is the old reading, and the true one, though the modern editors read, A hall! a hall! The former exclamation occurs frequently in the old comedies, and signifies, make room. So, in the comedy of Doctor Dodypoll, 1600: “Room! room! a hall! a hall!” Again, in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub: “&lblank; Then cry, a hall! a hall! Again, in an Epithalamium by Christopher Brooke, published at the end of England's Helicon, 1614: “Cry not a hall, a hall; but chamber-roome; “Dancing is lame, &c.” Again, in the Widow's Tears, a comedy, by Chapman, 1612: “A hall! a hall! who's without there?”— “A hall! a hall! let no more citizens in there.” Again, in Herod and Antipater, 1622: “A hall, a hall! let all the deadly sins “Come in, and here accuse me!—’. Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “His grace come.—A hall, varlets!—Where be my men?” Again, in the Two Maids of More-clacke, 1609: “&lblank; Hall, a hall there, musick sound.” Again, in Woman will have her will, 1631: “She comes, she comes; A hall, a hall!” Steevens. Mr. Steevens reads very rightly: “A hall! a hall! So, in Marston's Satires:—“A hall, a hall! Room for the spheres! &c.” And Davies, in one of his Epigrams: “A hall! my masters, give Rotundus room.” Farmer.

Note return to page 92 1&lblank; good cousin Capulet,] This cousin Capulet is unkle in the paper of invitation; but as Capulet is described as old, cousin is probably the right word in both places. I know not how Capulet and his lady might agree, their ages were very disproportionate; he has been past masking for thirty years, and her age, as she tells Juliet, is but eight-and-twenty. Johnson.

Note return to page 93 2&lblank; our dancing days:] Thus the folio: the quarto reads, “our standing days.” Steevens.

Note return to page 94 3&lblank; will you tell me, &c.] This speech stands thus in the first copy: Will you tell me that it cannot be so? His son was but a ward three years ago; Good youths i'faith!—Oh, youth's a jolly thing! There are many trifling variations in almost every speech of this play; but when they are of little consequence I have foreborn to encumber the page by the insertion of them. The last, however, of these three lines is natural, and worth preserving. Steevens.

Note return to page 95 4&lblank; cheek of night.] Shakespeare has the same thought in his 27th sonnet: “Which, like a jewel hung in gastly night, “Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.” The quartos, 1597. 1599. 1609, 1637, and the folio 1623, read: It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night. It is to the folio 1632, that we are indebted for the present reading; but I know not that it is the true one. Steevens.

Note return to page 96 5For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.] Thus K. Henry VIII. &lblank; o beauty, 'Till now I never knew thee! Steevens.

Note return to page 97 6To scathe you, i. e. to do you an injury. So, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “They shall amend the scath, or kiss the pound.” Again, in the interlude of Jacob and Esau, 1568: “Alas, what wretched villain hath done me such scath?” Steevens.

Note return to page 98 7You must contrary me.] The use of this verb is common to our old writers. So, in Tully's Love by Greene, 1616: “—rather wishing to die than to contrary her resolution.” Many instances more might be selected from Sidney's Arcadia. Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602. B. 10. Chap. 59. “&lblank; his countermand should have contraried so.” The same verb is used in Sir Tho. North's translation of Plutarch. Steevens.

Note return to page 99 8You are a princox, go:—] A princox is a coxcomb, a conceited person. The word is used by Ben Jonson in The Case is alter'd, 1609; by Chapman in his comedy of May-Day, 1610; in the Return from Parnassus, 1606: “Your proud university Princox;” again, in Fuimus Troes, 1603: “That Princox proud;” and indeed by most of the old dramatick writers. Cotgrave renders un jeune estoudeau superbe—a young princox boy. Steevens.

Note return to page 100 9Patience perforce,] This expression is in part proverbial: the old adage is, “Patience perforce is a medicine for a mad dog.” Steev.

Note return to page 101 1If I profane with my unworthy hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, My lips, two blushing pilgrims, &c.] All profanations are supposed to be expiated either by some meritorious action, or by some penance undergone and punishment submitted to. So Romeo would here say, If I have been profane in the rude touch of my hand, my lips stand ready, as two blushing pilgrims, to take off that offence, to atone for it by a sweet penance. Our poet therefore must have wrote, &lblank; the gentle fine is this. Warburton.

Note return to page 102 2We have a foolish trifling banquet towards.] Towards is ready, at hand. So, in Hamlet: “What might be towards, that this sweaty haste “Doth make the night joint labourer with the day!” Again, in the Phœnix, by Middleton, 1607: “&lblank; here's a voyage towards, will make us all.” Steevens.

Note return to page 103 3&lblank; honest gentlemen;] Here the quarto, 1597, adds: “I promise you, but for your company, “I would have been in bed an hour ago: “Light to my chamber, ho!” Steevens.

Note return to page 104 4Come hither, nurse: What is yon gentleman?] This and the following questions are taken from the novel. Steevens.

Note return to page 105 5CHORUS.] This chorus added since the first edition. Pope. ChorusChorus. The use of this chorus is not easily discovered; it conduces nothing to the progress of the play, but relates what is already known, or what the next scene will shew; and relates it without adding the improvement of any moral sentiment. Johnson.

Note return to page 106 6Cry but—Ay me! couple but—love and dove.] The quarto, 1597, reads pronounce, the two succeeding quartos and the first folio, provant: the 2d, 3d, and 4th folios, couply; and Mr. Rowe, who printed from the last of these, formed the present reading. Provant, in ancient language, signifies provision. So, in “The Court and Kitchen of Elizabeth, called Joan Cromwell, the wise of the late usurper, truly described and represented,” 1664, p. 14. “&lblank; carrying some dainty provant for her own and her daughter's repast.” To provant is to provide; and to provide is to furnish. “Provant but love and dove,” may therefore mean furnish but such hackney'd rhimes as these are, the trite effusions of lovers. Steevens.

Note return to page 107 7Young Adam Cupid,] Alluding to the famous archer Adam Bell. Gray.

Note return to page 108 8When king Cophetua, &c.] Alluding to an old ballad. Pope. This ballad is preserved in the first volume of Dr. Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry. Steevens. “&lblank; her pur-blind son and heir, “Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, “When, &c.” This word trim, the first editors consulting the general sense of the passage, and not perceiving the allusion, would naturally alter to true; yet the former seems the more humourous expression, and, on account of its quaintness, more likely to have been used by Mercutio. Percy. So trim is the reading of the oldest copy, and this ingenious conjecture is confirmed by it. In Decker's Satiromastix is a reference to the same archer: “&lblank; He shoots his bolt but seldom; but when Adam lets go, he hits:” “He shoots at thee too, Adam Bell; and his arrows stick here.” Steevens.

Note return to page 109 9&lblank; the humorous night.] I suppose Shakespeare means humid, the moist [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 110 For, t moist, read, the moist; and in line 2. ibid. for, hi, read, his.

Note return to page 111 1As maids, &c.] After this line in the quarto 1597, I find two other verses, containing such ribaldry, that I cannot venture to insert them in the text, though I exhibit them here as a proof that either the poet or his friends knew sometimes how to blot: O Romeo that she were, O that she were An open Et cætera, thou a Poprin Pear! This pear is mentioned in the Wise Woman of Hogsdon, 1638. “What needed I to have grafted in the stock of such a choke-pear, and such a goodly Poprin as this to escape me?” Again, in A Woman never vex'd, 1632: “&lblank; I requested him to pull me “A Katherine Pear, and had I not look'd to him “He would have mistook and given me a Popperin.” In the Atheist's Tragedy, by Cyril Turner, 1611, there is much conceit about this Pear. I am unable to explain it, nor does it appear indeed to deserve explanation. Thus much may safely be said; viz. that our Pear might have been of French extraction, as Popering was the name of a parish in the Marches of Calais. So, Chaucer's Rime of Sire Thopas, edit. 1775, ver. 13650: “In Flandres, al beyonde the see “At Popering in the place.” Steevens.

Note return to page 112 2He jests at scars,] That is, Mercutio jests, whom he overheard. Johnson.

Note return to page 113 3Be not her maid,] Be not a votary to the moon, to Diana. Johnson.

Note return to page 114 4It is my lady;] This line and half I have replaced. Johnson.

Note return to page 115 5O that I were a glove upon that hand,] This passage appears to have been ridiculed by Shirley in The School of Compliments, a comedy, 1637: “Oh that I were a flea upon that lip,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 116 6&lblank; touch that cheek!] The quarto, 1597, reads; “kiss that cheek.” Steevens.

Note return to page 117 7Oh, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night,] Though all the printed copies concur in this reading, yet the latter part of the simile seems to require, As glorious to this sight; &lblank; and therefore I have ventured to alter the text so. Theobald. I have restored the old reading, for surely the change was unnecessary. The plain sense is, that Juliet appeared as splendid an object in the vault of heaven obscured by darkness, as an angel could seem to the eyes of mortals, who were falling back to gaze upon him. As glorious to this night, means as glorious an appearance in this dark night, &c. It should be observed, however, that the simile agrees precisely with Theobald's alteration, and not so well with the old reading. Steevens.

Note return to page 118 8&lblank; the lazy-pacing clouds,] Thus corrected from the first edition, in the other lazy-puffing. Pope.

Note return to page 119 1Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.] i. e. you would be just what you are, although you were not of the House of Montague. Warburton. I think the true reading is, Thou art thyself, then not a Montague. Thou art a being of peculiar excellence, and hast none of the malignity of the family from which thou hast thy name.— Hanmer reads: Thou r't not thyself so, though a Montague. Johnson. This line is wanting in the elder quarto; all the other editions concur in one reading. I think the passage will support Dr. Johnson's sense without his proposed alteration. Thou art thyself (i. e. a being of distinguished excellence) though thou art not what thou appearest to others, akin to thy family in malice. Steevens.

Note return to page 120 2Take all myself.] The elder quarto reads, Take all I have. Steevens.

Note return to page 121 3&lblank; there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their swords;] B. & Fletcher have copied this thought in The Maid in the Mill: “The lady may command, sir; “She bears an eye more dreadful than your weapon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 122 4Than death prorogued,] To prorogue has not, in this place, its common signification, but means to delay. Steevens.

Note return to page 123 5&lblank; coying to be strange.] For coying, the modern editions have cunning. Johnson. Cunning is the reading of the elder quarto, and I have restored it. To coy is nevertheless an old verb. So, in A Woman never vex'd, 1632: “Love is so young, it coys but cannot speak.” To be strange, is to put on affected coldness, to appear shy. So, in Greene's Mamillia, 1593: “&lblank; Is it the fashion in Padua to be so strange with your friends?” Steevens.

Note return to page 124 6Ere one can say—It lightens.] So, in the Miracles of Moses, by Drayton: “&lblank; lightning ceaselessly to burn, “Swifter than thought from place to place to pass, “And being gone, doth suddenly return “Ere you could say precisely what it was.” The same thought occurs in the Midsummer Night's Dream. Steevens.

Note return to page 125 7Sweet, good night.] All the intermediate lines from Sweet, good night, to Stay but a little, &c. were added after the first copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 126 8To lure this tassel-gentle back again!] The tassel or tiercel (for so it should be spelt) is the male of the gosshawk; so called, because it is a tierce or third less than the female. This is equally true of all birds of prey. In the Booke of Falconrye, by George Turbervile, gent. printed in 1575, I find a whole chapter on the falcon-gentle, &c. So, in The Guardian, by Massinger, “&lblank; then for an evening flight “A tiercel-gentle.” Taylor the water poet uses the same expression, “&lblank; By casting out the lure, she makes the tassel-gentle come to her first.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. 3. c. 4. “Having far off espyde a tassel-gent, “Which after her his nimble wings doth straine.” Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “Your tassel-gentle, she's lur'd off and gone.” This species of hawk had the epithet of gentle annexed to it, from the ease with which it was tamed, and its attachment to man. Steevens.

Note return to page 127 9The grey-ey'd morn, &c.] These four first lines are here replaced, conformable to the first edition, where such a description is much more proper than in the mouth of Romeo just before, when he was full of nothing but the thoughts of his mistress. Pope. In the folio these lines are printed twice over, and given twice to Romeo, and once to the frier. Johnson. The same mistake has likewise happened in the quartos, 1599, 1609, and 1637. Steevens.

Note return to page 128 1And flecked darkness] Flecked is spotted, dappled, streak'd, or variegated. In this sense it is used by Churchyard, in his Legend of Tho. Mowbray Duke of Norfolk. Mowbray, speaking of the Germans, says: “All jagg'd and frounc'd, with divers colours deck'd, “They swear, they curse, and drink till they be fleck'd.” Lord Surrey uses the same word in his translation of the 4th Æneid: “Her quivering cheekes flecked with deadly staine.” The same image occurs in Much ado about nothing, act. 5 sc. 3. “Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.” Steevens.

Note return to page 129 2I must up-fill this ozier cage of ours, &c.] So, in the 13th song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “His happy time he spends the works of God to see, “In those so sundry herbs which there in plenty grow, “Whose sundry strange effects he only seeks to know. “And in a little maund, being made of oziers small, “Which serveth him to do full many a thing withal, “He very choicely sorts his simples got abroad.” Drayton is speaking of a hermit. Steevens.

Note return to page 130 3The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb;] “Omniparens, eadem rerum commune sepulchrum.” Lucretius. “The womb of nature, and perhaps her grave.” Milton. Steevens.

Note return to page 131 4&lblank; powerful grace,] Efficacious virtue. Johnson.

Note return to page 132 5For nought so vile that on the earth doth live.] The quarto, 1597, reads: For nought so vile that vile on earth doth live. Steevens.

Note return to page 133 6Two such opposed foes &lblank;] This is a modern sophistication. The old books have it opposed kings. So that it appears, Shakespeare wrote, Two such opposed kin. Why he calls them kin was, because they were qualities residing in one and the same substance. And as the enmity of opposed kin generally rises higher than that between strangers, this circumstance adds a beauty to the expression. Warburton. Foes may be the right reading, or kings, but I think kin can hardly be admitted. Two kings are two opposite powers, two contending potentates, in both the natural and moral world. The word encamp is proper to commanders. Johnson. Foes is the reading of the oldest copy; kings of that in 1609. Steevens.

Note return to page 134 7&lblank; with unstuft brain &c.] The copy, 1597, reads: “&lblank; with unstuff'd brains “Doth couch his limmes, there golden sleep remaines.” Steevens.

Note return to page 135 8Holy Saint Francis!] Old copy, Jesu Maria! Steevens.

Note return to page 136 9The two following lines were added since the first copy of this play. Steevens.

Note return to page 137 1More than prince of cats, &lblank;] Tybert, the name given to the Cat, in the story-book of Reynard the Fox. Warburton. So, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; tho' you were Tybert, the long-tail'd prince of Rats.” Again, in Have with you to Saffron Walden, &c. 1598: “&lblank; not Tibault prince of Cats, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 138 2&lblank; courageous captain of compliments:] A complete master of all the laws of ceremony, the principal man in the doctrine of punctilio. “A man of compliments, whom right and wrong “Have chose as umpire;” says our author of Don Armado, the Spaniard, in Love's Labour's Lost. Johnson.

Note return to page 139 3&lblank; keeps time, distance, and proportion.] So Jonson's Bobadil: “Note your distance, keep your due proportion of time.” Steevens.

Note return to page 140 4&lblank; the very butcher of a silk button,] So, in the Return from Parnassus: “Strikes his poinado at a button's breadth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 141 5A gentleman of the very first house;—of the first and second cause:] i. e. one who pretends to be at the head of his family, and quarrels by the book. See a note on As you like it, Act 5. Sc. 6. Warburton. Tybalt cannot pretend to be at the head of his family, as both Capulet and Romeo barr'd his claim to that elevation. “A gentleman of the first house;—of the first and second cause,” is a gentleman of the first rank, of the first eminence among these duellists; and one who understands the whole science of quarrelling, and will tell you of the first cause, and the second cause, for which a man is to fight.—The Clown, in As you like it, talks of the seventh cause in the same sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 142 6&lblank; the hay!] All the terms of the modern fencing-school were originally Italian; the rapier, or small thrusting sword, being first used in Italy. The hay is the word hai, you have it, used when a thrust reaches the antagonist, from which our fencers, on the same occasion, without knowing, I suppose, any reason for it, cry out, ha! Johnson.

Note return to page 143 7&lblank; affecting fantasticoes.] Thus the old copies, and rightly. The modern editors read, phantasies. Nash, in his Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1596, says—“Follow some of these new- fangled Galiardo's and Signor Fantastico's,” &c. Again, in Decker's Comedy of Old Fortunatus, 1600:—“I have danc'd with queens, dallied with ladies, worn strange attires, seen fantastico's, convers'd with humorists,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 144 8Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire,] Humourously apostrophising his ancestors, whose sober times were unacquainted with the fopperies here complained of. Warburton.

Note return to page 145 9&lblank; these pardonnez-mois,] Pardonnez-moi became the language of doubt or hesitation among men of the sword, when the point of honour was grown so delicate, that no other mode of contradiction would be endured. Johnson.

Note return to page 146 1O, their bones, their bones!] Mercutio is here ridiculing those frenchified fantastical coxcombs whom he calls pardonnez-moi's: and therefore, I suspect here he meant to write French too. O, their bon's! their bon's! i. e. how ridiculous they make themselves in crying out good, and being in ecstasies with every trifle; as he had just described them before. “&lblank; a very good blade!” &c. Theob. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1115 They stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench.”] This conceit is lost, if the double meaning of the word form be not attended to. Farmer. A quibble on the two meanings of the word form occurs in Love's Labour's Lost, Act. 1. Sc. 1:—sitting with her on the form, and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is, in manner and form following.” Steevens.

Note return to page 147 2Your French slop.] Slops are large loose breeches or trowsers worn at present only by sailors. They are mentioned by Jonson in his Alchymist: “&lblank; six great slops “Bigger than three Dutch boys.” Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611:   “&lblank; three pounds in gold “These slops contain.” Steevens. Hence evidently the term slop-seller for the venders of ready-made cloaths. Nichols.

Note return to page 148 3&lblank; What counterfeit, &c.? Mer. The slip, the slip, sir;] To understand this play upon the words counterfeit and slip, it should be observed that in our Author's time there was a counterfeit piece of money distinguished by the name of a slip. This will appear in the following instances: “And therefore he went and got him certain slips, which are counterfeit pieces of money, being brasse, and covered over with silver, which the common people call slips.” Thieves falling out, True men come by their goods; by Robert Greene. Again, “I had like t'have been “Abus'd i' the business, had the slip slur'd on me, “A counterfeit.” Magnetick Lady, A. 3. S. 6. Reed. The slip is again used equivocally in No Wit like a Woman's, a comedy, by Middleton, 1657: Clown. “Because you shall be sure on't, you have given me a nine pence here, and I'll give you the slip for it.” [Exit. Malone.

Note return to page 149 5&lblank; then is my pump well flower'd.] Here is a vein of wit too thin to be easily found. The fundamental idea is, that Romeo wore pinked pumps, that is, punched with holes in figures. Johnson. See the shoes of the morris-dancers in the plate at the conclusion of the first part of K. Henry IV, with Mr. Tollet's remarks annexed to it. It was the custom to wear ribbons in the shoes formed into the shape of roses, or of any other flowers. So Middleton, in the Masque, by the Gent. of Gray's-Inn, 1614: “Every masker's pump was fasten'd with a flower suitable to his cap.” Steevens.

Note return to page 150 4I will bite thine ear &lblank;] So Sir Epicure Mammon to Face in Jonson's Alchymist. “Slave, I could bite thine ear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 151 5&lblank; Good goose, bite not,] Is a proverbial expression, to be found in Ray's Collection; and is used in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599. Steevens.

Note return to page 152 6&lblank; a very bitter sweeting;] A bitter sweeting, is an apple of that name. So, in Summer's last Will and Testament, 1600: “&lblank; as well crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits.” Again, in Fair Em, 1631: “&lblank; what, in displeasure gone! And left me such a bitter sweet to gnaw upon?” Again, in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. 8. fol. 174. b: “For all such tyme of love is lore, “And like unto the bitter swete “For though it thinke a man fyrst swete “He shall well felen at laste “That it is sower, &c.” An allusion to fruit remains unexplained in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, Act 1: “A soft velvet head like a Mellicotton.” i. e. a Malacoton, a species of peach, at that time newly imported from France. Steevens.

Note return to page 153 7&lblank; a wit of cheverel,] Cheverel is soft leather for gloves. Johnson. So, in the Two Maids of More-clacke, 1609: “Drawing on love's white hand a glove of warmth, “Not cheveril stretching to such prophanation.” From Chevreau, a Kid, Fr. So again, in &grt;&gre;&grx;&grn;&gro;&grg;&gra;&grm;&gri;&gra;, or The Marriages of the Arts, 1618: “The quilting of Ajax his shield was but a thin cheverel to it.” Again, in the Cobler's Prophecy, 1594: “To day in pumps and cheveril gloves to walk she will be bold.” Again, in The Owl, by Drayton: “A cheverell conscience, and a searching wit.” Steevens. Cheveril is from Chevreuil, Roebuck. Musgrave.

Note return to page 154 8&lblank; to hide his bauble in a hole.] It has been already observed by Sir. J. Hawkins, in a note on All's Well, &c. that a bauble was one of the accoutrements of a licensed fool or jester. So again, in Sir W. D' Avenant's Albovine, 1629: “For such rich widows there, love court fools, and use to play with their baubles.” Again, in The longer thou livest, the greater Fool thou art, 1570: “And as stark an idiot as ever bare bable.” See the plate at the end of K. Henry IV. P. 1. with Mr. Tollet's observations on it. Steevens.

Note return to page 155 9&lblank; against the hair.] A contrepoil: Fr. An expression equivalent to one which we now use—“against the grain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 156 1My fan, Peter.] The business of Peter carrying the Nurse's fan, seems ridiculous according to modern manners; but I find such was formerly the practice. In an old pamphlet, called “The Serving-man's Comfort,” 1598, we are informed, “The mistress must have one to carry her cloake and hood, another her fanne.” Farmer. Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan. Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “If any lady, &c. wants an upright gentleman in the nature of a gentleman usher, &c. who can hide his face with her fan, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 157 2God ye good den,] i. e. God give you a good even. The first of these contractions is common among the ancient comic writers. So, in R. Brome's Northern Lass, 1633: “God you good even, sir.” Steevens.

Note return to page 158 3&lblank; the hand of the dial &lblank;] In the Puritan Widow, 1605, which has been attributed to our author, is a similar expression: “&lblank; the feskewe of the diall is upon the chrisse-crosse of noon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 159 4No hare, sir;] Mercutio having roared out, So ho! the cry of the sportsmen when they start a hare; Romeo asks what he has found. And Mercutio answers, No hare, &c. The rest is a series of quibbles unworthy of explanation, which he who does not understand, needs not lament his ignorance. Johnson.

Note return to page 160 5An old hare hoar,] Hoar or hoary, is often used for mouldy, as things grow white from moulding. So, in Pierce Pennyless's Supplication to the Devil, 1595: “&lblank; as hoary as Dutch butter.” Again, in F. Beaumont's letter to Speght on his edition of Chaucer, 1602: “Many of Chaucer's words are become as it were vinew'd and hoarie with over long lying.” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “&lblank; mice and rats “Eat up his grain; or else that it might rot “Within the hoary ricks e'en as it stands.” Steevens.

Note return to page 161 6&lblank; lady, lady, lady.] The burthen of an old song. See Dr. Farmer's note on Twelfth Night, p. 196. Steevens.

Note return to page 162 7&lblank; what saucy merchant was this, &c.] The term merchant which was, and even now is, frequently applied to the lowest sort of dealers, seems anciently to have been used on these familiar occasions in contradistinction to gentleman; signifying that the person shewed by his behaviour he was a low fellow. The term chap, i. e. chapman, a word of the same import with merchant in its less respectable sense, is still in common use among the vulgar, as a general denomination for any person of whom they mean to speak with freedom or disrespect. Steevens.

Note return to page 163 8&lblank; of his ropery?] Ropery was anciently used in the same sense as roguery is now. So, in the Three Ladies of London, 1584: “Thou art very pleasant and full of thy roperye.” Rope-tricks are mentioned in another place. Steevens.

Note return to page 164 9None of his skains-mates.] The word skains-mate, I do not understand, but suppose that skains was some low play, and skains-mate, a companion at such play. Johnson. A skein or skain was either a knife or a short dagger. By skains-mates the nurse means none of his loose companions who frequent the fencing-school with him, where we may suppose the exercise of this weapon was taught. The word is used in the old tragedy of Soliman and Perseda, 1599. “Against the light-foot Irish have I serv'd, “And in my skin bare tokens of their skeins.” Again, in the comedy called Lingua, &c. 1607. At the opening of the piece Lingua is represented as apparelled in a particular manner, and among other things—having “a little skene tied in “a purple scarf.” Green, in his Quip for an upstart Courtier, describes “an ill-favour'd knave, who wore by his side a skeine like a brewer's bung-knife.” Skein is the Irish word for a knife. Again, in the Fatal Contract, by J. W. Hemings, 1653: “How easily this skein is sheath'd in him.” Again, in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1626:   “&lblank; with this frantic and untamed passion, To whet their skeins.” Again, in Drayton's Miseries of Q. Margaret: “Came in the van-guard with his Irishmen, “With darts and skains.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 4: “&lblank; those crooked skaines they us'd in war to bear.” Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602, book 5. chap. 26: “And hidden skeines from underneath their forged garments drew.” Steevens. Swift has the word in his description of an Irish feast: “A cubit at least the length of their skains.” Nichols.

Note return to page 165 1&lblank; protest.] Whether the repetition of this word conveyed any idea peculiarly comic to Shakespeare's audience, is not at present to be determined. The use of it, however, is ridiculed in the old comedy of Sir Giles Goosecap, 1606: “There is not the best duke's son in France dares say, I protest, till he be one and thirty years old at least; for the inheritance of that word is not to be possessed before.” Steevens.

Note return to page 166 2&lblank; like a tackled stair,] Like stairs of rope in the tackle of a ship. Johnson.

Note return to page 167 3&lblank; top-gallant of my joy] The top-gallant is the highest extremity of the mast of a ship. The expression is common to many writers; among the rest, to Markham in his English Arcadia, 1607: “&lblank; beholding in the high top-gallant of his valour.” Again, in Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606: “&lblank; that, vailing top-gallant, she returned, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 168 4Rom. Ay, Nurse; what of that? both with an R. Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the no, I know it begins with no other letter;] I believe, I have rectified this odd stuff; but it is a little mortifying, that the sense, when found, should not be worth the pains of retrieving it. “&lblank; spissis indigna theatris “Scripta pudet recitare, & nugis addere pondus.” The Nurse is represented as a prating silly creature; she says, she will tell Romeo a good joke about his mistress, and asks him, whether Rosemary and Romeo do not begin both with a letter: He says, Yes, an R. She, who, we must suppose, could not read, thought he had mock'd her, and says, No, sure, I know better: our dog's name is R. yours begins with another letter. This is natural enough, and in character. R put her in mind of that sound which is made by dogs when they snarl; and therefore, I presume, she says, that is the dog's name, R in the schools, being called The dog's letter. Ben Jonson, in his English Grammar, says, R is the dog's letter, and hirreth in the sound. “Irritata canis quod R. R. quam plurima dicat.” Lucil. Warburton. Dr. Warburton reads:—R. is for Thee? Steevens. This passage is thus in the old folio. A mocker, that's the dog's name. R is for the no, I know it begins with some other letter. In this copy the error is but small. I read, Ah, mocker, that's the dog's name. R is for the nonce, I know it begins with another letter. For the nonce, is for some design, for a sly trick. Johnson. For the nonce is an expression common to all the ancient writers. For the nonce is for the present purpose. So Holinshead, p. 933: “&lblank; she withdrew into a little place made for the nones.” So Phaer, in his translation of Virgil, B. ii. speaking of Sinon: “That for the nonce had done himself, by yielding to be took.” Again, one of the stage-directions in Alphonsus Emperor of Germany, says: “They must have axes made for the nonce, to fight withal.” Again, in M. Kyffin's translation of the Andria of Terence, 1588: “&lblank; dost thou think but small difference between that one doth in good earnest, and that which is done for the nonce?” Steevens.

Note return to page 169 5Ah mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the No, &c.] I believe we should read, R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other letter. Tyrwhitt. I have adopted this emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 170 6&lblank; should be thoughts, &c.] The speech is thus continued in the quarto, 1597: &lblank; should be thoughts, And run more swift than hasty powder fir'd, Doth hurry from the fearful cannon's mouth. Oh, now she comes! Tell me, gentle Nurse, What says my love? &lblank; The greatest part of the scene is likewise added since that edition. Steevens.

Note return to page 171 7This scene was entirely new formed: the reader may be pleased to have it as it was at first written: Rom. Now, father Laurence, in thy holy grant Consists the good of me and Juliet. Friar. Without more words, I will do all I may To make you happy, if in me it lie. Rom. This morning here she 'pointed we should meet, And consummate those never-parting bands, Witness of our hearts' love, by joining hands; And come she will. Friar. I guess she will indeed: Youth's love is quick, swifter than swiftest speed. Enter Juliet somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo. See where she comes!— So light a foot ne'er hurts the trodden flower; Of love and joy, see, see the sovereign power! Jul. Romeo! Rom. My Juliet, welcome! As do waking eyes (Clos'd in night's mists) attend the frolick day, So Romeo hath expected Juliet; And thou art come. Jul. I am (if I be day) Come to my sun; shine forth, and make me fair. Rom. All beauteous fairness dwelleth in thine eyes. Jul. Romeo, from thine all brightness doth arise. Friar. Come, wantons, come, the stealing hours do pass; Defer embracements to some fitter time: Part for a time, “you shall not be alone, “'Till holy church hath join'd you both in one.” Rom. Lead, holy father, all delay seems long: Jul. Make haste, make haste, this ling'ring doth us wrong. Friar. O, soft and fair makes sweetest work they say; Haste is a common hind'rer in cross-way. [Exeunt. Steevens.

Note return to page 172 8Too swift arrives] He that travels too fast is as long before he comes to the end of his journey, as he that travels slow. Precipitation produces mishap. Johnson.

Note return to page 173 9Here comes the lady, &c.] However the poet might think the alteration of this scene on the whole to be necessary, I am afraid, in respect of the passage before us, he has not been very successful. The violent hyperbole of never wearing out the everlasting flint appears to me not only more reprehensible, but even less beautiful than the lines as they were originally written, where the lightness of Juliet's motion is accounted for from the cheerful effects the passion of love produced in her mind. Steevens.

Note return to page 174 1A lover may bestride the gossamour.] The Gossamer is the long white filament which flies in the air in summer. So, in Hannibal and Scipio, 1637, by Nabbes: “Fine as Arachne's web, or gossamer, “Whose curls when garnish'd by their dressing, shew “Like that spun vapour when 'tis pearl'd with dew?” Steevens.

Note return to page 175 2I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.] The old copies read: I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth, and, I cannot sum up some of half my wealth. Steevens.

Note return to page 176 3The day is hot,] It is observed, that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer. Johnson.

Note return to page 177 4These two speeches have been added since the first quarto, together with some few circumstances in the rest of the scene, as well as in the ensuing one. Steevens.

Note return to page 178 5A la stoccata &lblank;] Stoccata is the Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. So, in the Devil's Charter, 1607: “He makes a thrust; I with a swift passado “Make quick avoidance, and with this stoccata, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 179 6Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears?] We should read pilche, which signifies a cloke or coat of skins, meaning the scabbard. Warburton. The old quarto reads scabbard. Dr. Warburton's explanation is, I believe, just. Nash, in Pierce Pennyless his Supplication, 1595, speaks of a carman in a leather pilche. Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “I'll beat five pounds out of his leather pilch.” Again, Thou hast forgot how thou ambled'st in a leather pilch, by a play-waggon in the highway, and took'st mad Jeronimo's part, to get service among the mimics.” It appears from this passage, that Ben Jonson acted the part of Hieronimo in the Spanish tragedy, the speech being addressed to Horace, under which character old Ben is ridiculed. Steevens.

Note return to page 180 7&lblank; a grave man.] After this, the quarto 1597 continues Mercutio's speech as follows: &lblank; A pox o' both your houses! I shall be fairly mounted upon four men's shoulders for your house of the Montague's and the Capulets: and then some peasantly rogue, some sexton, some base slave, shall write my epitaph, that Tybalt came and broke the prince's laws, and Mercutio was slain for the first and second cause. Where's the surgeon? Boy. He's come, sir. Mer. Now he'll keep a mumbling in my guts on the other side.—Come, Benvolio, lend me thy hand: A pox o' both your houses! Steevens. “You will find me a grave man.” This jest was better in old language, than it is at present; Lidgate says, in his elegy upon Chaucer: “My master Chaucer now is grave.” Farmer. I meet with the same quibble in the Revenger's Tragedy, 1608, where Vindici dresses up a lady's scull, and observes: “&lblank; she has a somewhat grave look with her.” Steevens.

Note return to page 181 8&lblank; hath aspir'd the clouds.] So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608: “Her haughty mind is too lofty for me to aspire.” We never use this verb at present without some particle, as, to and after. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1120

Note return to page 182 9This day's black fate on more days does depend;] This day's unhappy destiny hangs over the days yet to come. There will yet be more mischief. Johnson.

Note return to page 183 1O! I am fortune's fool!] I am always running in the way of evil fortune, like the fool in the play. Thou art death's fool, in Measure for Measure. See Dr. Warburton's note. Johnson. In the first copy, O! I am fortune's slave. Steevens.

Note return to page 184 2&lblank; as thou art true,] As thou art just and upright. Johnson.

Note return to page 185 3How nice the quarrel &lblank;] How slight, how unimportant, how petty. So in the last act, The letter was not nice, but full of charge Of dear import. Johnson.

Note return to page 186 4&lblank; and urg'd withal &lblank;] The rest of this speech was new written by the poet, as well as a part of what follows in the same scene. Steevens.

Note return to page 187 5Affection makes him false,] The charge of falshood on Benvolio, though produced at hazard, is very just. The author, who seems to intend the character of Benvolio as good, meant perhaps to shew, how the best minds, in a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality. Johnson.

Note return to page 188 6I have an interest in your hearts' proceeding,] Sir Thomas Hanmer saw that this line gave no sense, and therefore put, by a very easy change, I have an interest in your heats proceeding: which is undoubtedly better than the old reading which Dr. Warburton has followed; but the sense yet seems to be weak, and perhaps a more licentious correction is necessary. I read therefore, I had no interest in your heats preceding. This, says the prince, is no quarrel of mine, I had no interest in your former discord; I suffer merely by your private animosity. Johnson. The quarto, 1597, reads hates' proceeding. This renders all emendation unnecessary. I have followed it. Steevens.

Note return to page 189 7Nor tears nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses;] This was probably designed as a stroke at the church of Rome, by which the different prices of murder, incest, and all other crimes, were minutely settled, and as shamelessly received. Steevens.

Note return to page 190 8Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.] So, in Hale's Memorials: “When I find myself swayed to mercy, let me remember likewise that there is a mercy due to the country.” Malone.

Note return to page 191 9&lblank; Phœbus' mansion;] The second quarto and folio read, lodging. Steevens.

Note return to page 192 1&lblank; immediately.] Here ends this speech in the eldest quarto. The rest of the scene has likewise received considerable alterations and additions. Steevens.

Note return to page 193 2Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That run-away's eyes may wink;] What run-aways are these, whose eyes Juliet is wishing to have stopt? Macbeth, we may remember, makes an invocation to night much in the same strain: “&lblank; Come, seeling night, “Scarp up the tender eye of pitiful day,” &c. So Juliet would have night's darkness obscure the great eye of the day, the sun; whom considering in a poetical light as Phœbus, drawn in his car with fiery-footed steeds, and posting through the heavens, she very properly calls him, with regard to the swiftness of his course, the run-away. In the like manner our poet speaks of the night in the Merchant of Venice: “For the close night doth play the run-away.” Warburton. I am not satisfied with this explanation, yet have nothing better to propose. Johnson. The construction of this passage, however elliptical or perverse, I believe to be as follows:   May that run-away's eyes wink! Or, That run-away's eyes, may (they) wink! These ellipses are frequent in Spenser; and that for oh! that is not uncommon, as Dr. Farmer observes in a note on the first scene of the Winter's Tale. So, in Antony and Cleopatra, Act 3. Sc. 6. That ever I should call thee cast-away! Juliet first wishes for the absence of the sun, and then invokes the night to spread its curtain close around the world: Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! next, recollecting that the night would seem short to her, she speaks of it as of a run-away, whose flight she would wish to retard, and whose eyes she would blind lest they should make discoveries. The eyes of night are the stars, so called in the Midsummer Night's Dream. Dr. Warburton has already proved that Shakespeare terms the night a run-away in the Merchant of Venice: and in the Fair Maid of the Exchange, 1607, it is spoken of under the same character: “The night hath play'd the swift-foot run-away.” Romeo was not expected by Juliet 'till the sun was gone, and therefore it was of no consequence to her that any eyes should wink but those of the night; for, as Ben Jonson says in Sejanus: “&lblank; night hath many eyes, “Whereof, tho' most do sleep, yet some are spies.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1121

Note return to page 194 3Come, civil night,] Civil is grave, decently solemn. Johnson.

Note return to page 195 4&lblank; unmann'd blood &lblank;] Blood yet unacquainted with man. Johnson. Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks,] These are terms of falconry. An unmanned hawk is one that is not brought to endure company. Bating (not baiting, as it has hitherto been printed) is fluttering with the wings as striving to fly away. So, in Ben Jonson's Sad Shepherd: “A hawk yet half so haggard and unmann'd.” Again, in the Booke of Haukyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “It is called bating, for she bateth with herselfe most often causelesse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 196 5Take him and cut him into little stars, &c.] The same childish thought occurs in The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll, which was acted before the year 1596: “The glorious parts of faire Lucilia, “Take them and joine them in the heavenly spheres; “And fixe them there as an eternal light, “For lovers to adore and wonder at.” Steevens.

Note return to page 197 6&lblank; the garish sun.] Milton had this speech in his thoughts when he wrote Il Penseroso: “&lblank; Civil night, “Thou sober-suited matron.”— Shakespeare. “Till civil-suited morn appear.”— Milton. “Pay no worship to the garish sun.”— Shakespeare. “Hide me from day's garish eye.”— Milton. Johnson. Garish is gaudy, showy. So, in Richard III: A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag. Again, in Marlow's Edward II, 1622: “&lblank; march'd like players “With garish robes.” It sometimes signifies wild, flighty. So, in the following instance: “&lblank; starting up and gairishly staring about, especially on the face of Eliosto.” Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606. Steevens.

Note return to page 198 7And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.] I question much whether the grammarians will take this new vowel on trust from Mr. Pope, without suspecting it rather for a diphthong. In short, we must restore the spelling of the old books, or we lose the poet's conceit. At his time of day, the affirmative adverb ay was generally written I: and by this means it both becomes a vowel, and answers in sound to eye, upon which the conceit turns in the second line. Theobald. &lblank; death-darting eye of cockatrice.] The strange lines that follow here in the common books, are not in the old edition. Pope. The strange lines are these: I am not I, if there be such an I, Or these eyes shot, that makes thee answer I; If he be slain, say I; or if not, no; Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. These lines hardly deserve emendation; yet it may be proper to observe, that their meanness has not placed them below the malice of fortune, the two first of them being evidently transposed; we should read: &lblank; That one vowel I shall poison more, Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice, Or those eyes shot, that make thee answer, I. I am not I, &c. Johnson. I think the transposition recommended may be spared. The second line is corrupted. Read shut instead of shot, and then the meaning will be sufficiently intelligible. Shot, however, may be the same as shut. So, in Chaucer's Miller's Tale, late edit. ver. 3358: “And dressed him up by a shot window.” Steevens.

Note return to page 199 8Dove-feather'd raven! &c.] In old editions, Ravenous dove, feather'd raven, &c.] The four following lines not in the first edition, as well as some others which I have omitted. Pope. Ravenous dove, feather'd raven, Wolvish-ravening lamb!] This passage Mr. Pope has thrown out of the text, because these two noble hemistichs are inharmonious: but is there no such thing as a crutch for a labouring, halting verse? I'll venture to restore to the poet a line that is in his own mode of thinking, and truly worthy of him. Ravenous was blunderingly coined out of raven and ravening; and, if we only throw it out, we gain at once an harmonious verse, and a proper contrast of epithets and images: Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-rav'ning lamb! Theobald.

Note return to page 200 9Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;] So, in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, tom. ii. p. 223: “is it possible that under such beautie and rare comelinesse, disloyaltie and treason may have their siedge and lodging?” Steevens.

Note return to page 201 1Back foolish tears, &c.] So, in the Tempest: &lblank; I am a fool To weep at what I am glad of. I think, in this speech of Juliet, the words woe and joy should change places; otherwise, her reasoning is inconclusive. Steevens.

Note return to page 202 2Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts.] Hath put Tybalt out of my mind, as if out of being. Johnson.

Note return to page 203 3Which modern lamentation, &c.] This line is left out of the later editions, I suppose because the editors did not remember that Shakespeare uses modern for common, or slight: I believe it was in his time confounded in colloquial language with moderate. Johnson.

Note return to page 204 4&lblank; More validity, More honourable state, more courtship lives In carrion flies, than Romeo.] Validity seems here to mean worth or dignity: and courtship the state of a courtier permitted to approach the highest presence. Johnson.

Note return to page 205 5But Romeo may not; he is banished.] This line is very aukwardly introduced here, and might better be inserted after—their own kisses sin. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1126

Note return to page 206 6What wilfulness] The folio reads—What simpleness. Steevens.

Note return to page 207 7O woeful sympathy! Piteous predicament!] One may wonder the editors did not see that this language must necessarily belong to the Friar. Farmer. Dr. Farmer's emendation may justly claim that place in the text to which I have now advanced it. Steevens.

Note return to page 208 8Why should you fall into so deep an oh?] Hamner reads: Why should you fall into so deep an— Rom. Oh nurse! Johnson.

Note return to page 209 9&lblank; cancell'd love?] The folio reads conceal'd love. Johnson. The quarto, cancell'd love. Steevens.

Note return to page 210 1Unseemly woman, &c.] This strange nonsense Mr. Pope threw out of his edition for desperate. But it is easily restored as Shakespeare wrote it into good pertinent sense. Unseemly woman in a seeming man! An ill-beseeming beast in seeming groth. i. e. you have the ill-beseeming passions of a brute beast in the well-seeming shape of a rational creature. For having in the first line said, he was a woman in the shape of a man, he aggravates the thought in the second, and says, he was even a brute in the shape of a rational creature. Seeming is used in both places for seemly. Warburton. The old reading is probable. Thou art a beast of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a man. Johnson.

Note return to page 211 2Like powder in the skill-less soldier's flask, &c.] To understand the force of this allusion, it should be remembered that the ancient English soldiers, using match-locks, instead of locks with flints as at present, were obliged to carry a lighted match hanging at their belts, very near to the wooden flask in which they kept their powder. The same allusion occurs in Humor's Ordinary, an old collection of English epigrams: “When she his flask and touch-box set on fire, “And till this hour the burning is not out.” Steevens

Note return to page 212 3And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.] And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons. Johnson.

Note return to page 213 4Romeo is coming.] Much of this speech has likewise been added since the first edition. Steevens.

Note return to page 214 5Go hence. Good night, &c.] These three lines are omitted in all the modern editions. Johnson.

Note return to page 215 6&lblank; here stands all your state;] The whole of your fortune depends on this. Johnson.

Note return to page 216 7Scene IV. Some few unnecessary verses are omitted in this scene according to the oldest editions. Pope. These verses are such as will by no means connect with the last and most improved copy of the play. Steevens.

Note return to page 217 8mew'd up.] This is a phrase from falconry. A mew was a place of confinement for hawks. Steevens.

Note return to page 218 9Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love. &lblank;] Desperate means only bold, advent'rous, as if he had said in the vulgar phrase, I will speak a bold word, and venture to promise you my daughter. Johnson. So, in The Weakest goes to the Wall, 1618: Witness this desperate tender of mine honour.” Steevens.

Note return to page 219 1Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:] This is not merely a poetical supposition. It is observed of the nightingale that, if undisturbed, she sits and sings upon the same tree for many weeks together. Steevens.

Note return to page 220 2&lblank; the pale reflex &lblank;] The appearance of a cloud opposed to the moon. Johnson.

Note return to page 221 3I have more care to stay, than will to go.] Would it be better thus, I have more will to stay, than care to go? Johnson.

Note return to page 222 4&lblank; sweet division;] Division seems to have been the technical term for the pauses or parts of a musical composition. So, in K. Henry IV. P. 1: Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division to her lute. Steevens.

Note return to page 223 5O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!] The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occasion of a common saying amongst the people, that the toad and lark had changed eyes. To this the speaker alludes. But sure she need not have wished that they had changed voices too. The lark appeared to her untunable enough in all conscience; as appears by what she said just before, It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. This directs us to the right reading. For how natural was it for her after this to add, Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes; O, now I wot they have chang'd voices too. i. e. the lark sings so harshly, that I now perceive the toad and she have changed voices as well as eyes. Warburton. This tradition of the toad and lark I have heard expressed in a rustick rhyme, &lblank; To heav'n I'd fly, But that the toad beguil'd me of mine eye. Johnson.

Note return to page 224 6Since arm from arm, &c.] These two lines are omitted in the modern editions, and do not deserve to be replaced, but as they may shew the danger of critical temerity. Dr. Warburton's change of I would to I wot was specious enough, yet it is evidently erroneous. The sense is this, The lark, they say, has lost her eyes to the toad, and now I would the toad had her voice too, since she uses it to the disturbance of lovers. Johnson.

Note return to page 225 7Hunting thee up with huntsup to the day.] The huntsup was the name of the tune anciently played to wake the hunters, and collect them together. So, in the play of Orlando Furioso, 1594 and 1599: “To play him huntsup with a point of war, “I'll be his minstrell with my drum and fife.” Again, in The Seven Champions of Christendom, a comedy, 1638:   “&lblank; When Calib's concert plays “A huntsup to her.” Again, in Westward Hoe, 1607: “&lblank; Make a noise, its no matter; any huntsup to waken vice.” Again, in the Return from Parnassus, 1606: “Yet will I play a hunts-up to my Muse.” Again, in Aristippus, or the Jovial Philosopher, 1630: “Heyday! there goes the huntsup—” Again, in Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “I'll pipe you such a huntsup.” Again, in the Four Prentices of London, 1632: “&lblank; a drum “To give me a huntsup.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 13th: “But hunts-up to the morn the feather'd sylvans sing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 226 8O! by this count I shall be much in years, Ere I again behold my Romeo. “Illa ego, quæ fueram te decedente puella,   “Protinus ut redeas, facta videbor anus.” Ovid. Epist. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 227 9O God! I have an ill-divining soul, &c.] This miserable prescience of futurity I have always regarded as a circumstance particularly beautiful. The same kind of warning from the mind Romeo seems to have been conscious of, on his going to the entertainment at the house of Capulet. “&lblank; my mind misgives, “Some consequence yet hanging in the stars, “Shall bitterly begin his fearful date “From this night's revels.” Steevens.

Note return to page 228 1Dry sorrow drinks our blood.] This is an allusion to the proverb —“Sorrow's dry.” Steevens.

Note return to page 229 2&lblank; procures her hither?] Procures for brings. Warburton.

Note return to page 230 3Ay, madam, from &lblank;] Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed by the loss of a new lover. Johnson.

Note return to page 231 4That shall bestow on him so sure a draught,] Thus the elder quarto, which I have followed in preference to the quartos 1599 and 1609, and the folio 1623, which read, less intelligibly, “Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram.” Steevens. &lblank; unaccustom'd dram,] In vulgar language, Shall give him a dram which he is not used to. Though I have, if I mistake not, observed, that in old books unaccustomed signifies wonderful, powerful, efficacious. Johnson.

Note return to page 232 5Find thou, &c.] This line in the quarto 1597, is given to Juliet. Steevens.

Note return to page 233 6&lblank; in happy time, &lblank;] A la bonne heure. This phrase was interjected, when the hearer was not quite so well pleased as the speaker. Johnson.

Note return to page 234 7The County Paris, &lblank;] It is remarked, that “Paris, though in one place called Earl, is most commonly stiled the Countie in this play. Shakespeare seems to have preferred, for some reason or other, the Italian Comte to our Count: perhaps he took it from the old English novel, from which he is said to have taken his plot.”—He certainly did so: Paris is there first stiled a young Earle, and afterward Counte, Countee, and County; according to the unsettled orthography of the time. The word however is frequently met with in other writers; particularly in Fairfax: “As when a captaine doth besiege some hold,   “Set in a marish or high on a hill, “And trieth waies and wiles a thousand sold,   “To bring the place subjected to his will; “So far'd the Countie with the Pagan bold,” &c. Godfrey of Bulloigne, Book 7. Stanza 90. Farmer.

Note return to page 235 8And yet not proud, &c.] This line is wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 236 9&lblank; Out, you baggage! You tallow-face!] Such was the indelicacy of the age of Shakespeare, that authors were not contented only to employ these terms of abuse in their own original performances, but even felt no reluctance to introduce them in their versions of the most chaste and elegant of the Greek or Roman poets. Stanyhurst, the translator of Virgil in 1582, makes Dido call Æneas—Hedge-brat, cullion, and tar-breech, in the course of one speech. Nay, in the Interlude of the Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567, Mary Magdalen says to one of her attendants: “Horeson, I beshrowe your heart, are you here?” Steevens.

Note return to page 237 1In that dim monument, &c.] The modern editors read dun monument. I have replaced dim from the old quarto 1597, and the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 238 2Faith, here it is: &lblank;] The character of the nurse exhibits a just picture of those whose actions have no principles for their foundation. She has been unfaithful to the trust reposed in her by Capulet, and is ready to embrace any expedient that offers, to avert the consequences of her first infidelity. Steevens.

Note return to page 239 3&lblank; so green, &lblank;] So the first editions. Hanmer reads,—so keen. Johnson. Perhaps Chaucer has given to Emetrius, in the Knight's Tale, eyes of the same colour: His nose was high, his eyin bright citryn: i. e. of the hue of an unripe lemon or citron. Again, in the Two Noble Kinsmen, by Fletcher and Shakespeare, Act 5. Sc. 1. “&lblank; oh vouchsafe, “With that thy rare green eye, &c.—” Steevens.

Note return to page 240 4As living here, &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer reads, as living hence; that is, at a distance, in banishment; but here may signify, in this world. Johnson.

Note return to page 241 5Ancient damnation!] This term of reproach occurs in the Malcontent, 1604: “&lblank; out, you ancient damnation!” Steevens.

Note return to page 242 6And I am, &c.] His haste shall not be abated by my slowness. It might be read: And I am nothing flow to back his haste: that is, I am diligent to abet and enforce his haste. Johnson. Slack was certainly the author's word, for, in the first edition, the line ran— “For I am nothing slack to flow his haste.” Back could not have stood there. Malone.

Note return to page 243 7&lblank; be slow'd.] So, in Sir A. Gorges' translation of the second book of Lucan: “&lblank; will you overflow “The fields, thereby my march to slow?” Steevens.

Note return to page 244 8&lblank; my lady and my wife!] As these four first lines seem intended to rhyme, perhaps the author wrote thus: &lblank; my lady and my life! Johnson.

Note return to page 245 9Shall play the umpire; &lblank;] That is, this knife shall decide the struggle between me and my distresses. Johnson.

Note return to page 246 1&lblank; commission of thy years and art] Commission is for authority or power. Johnson.

Note return to page 247 2&lblank; of yonder tower;] Thus the quarto 1597. All other ancient copies—of any tower. Steevens.

Note return to page 248 3Or chain me, &c.] Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears, Or hide me nightly, &c. It is thus the editions vary. Pope. My edition has the words which Mr. Pope has omitted; but the old copy seems in this place preferable; only perhaps we might better read, Where savage bears and roaring lions roam. Johnson. I have inserted the lines which Pope omitted; for which I must offer this short apology: in the lines rejected by him we meet with three distinct ideas, such as may be supposed to excite terror in a woman, for one that is to be found in the others. The lines now omitted are these: Or chain me to some steepy mountain's top, Where roaring bears and savage lions roam; Or shut me &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 249 4Take thou this phial, &c.] Thus Painter's Palace of Pleasure, tom. ii. p. 237. “Beholde heere I give thee a viole, &c. drink so much as is contained therein. And then you shall feele a certaine kinde of pleasant sleepe, which incroching by little and little all the parts of your body, wil constrain them in such wife, as unmoveable they shal remaine: and by not doing their accustomed duties, shall loose their natural feelings, and you abide in such extasie the space of xl houres at the least, without any beating of poulse or other perceptible motion, which shall so astonne them that come to see you, as they will judge you to be dead, and according to the custome of our citie, you shall be caried to the churchyard hard by our church, when you shall be intombed in the common monument of the Capellets your ancestors, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 250 5&lblank; through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour,] The first edition in 1597, has in general been here followed, except only, that instead of a cold and drowsy humour, we there find—‘a dull and heavy slumber.’ Malone.

Note return to page 251 6In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,] Between this line and the next, the quartos 1599, 1609, and the first folio, introduce the following verse, which the poet very probably had struck out on his revisal, because it is quite unnecessary, as the sense of it is repeated, and as it will not connect with either: Be borne to burial in thy kindred's grave. Had Virgil lived to have revised his Æneid, he would hardly have permitted both of the following lines to remain in his text: “At Venus obscuro gradientes aëre sepsit; “Et multo nebulæ circum dea fudit amictu.” The aukward repetition of the nominative case in the second of them, seems to decide very strongly against it. Steevens.

Note return to page 252 7&lblank; and he and I Will watch thy waking, &lblank;] These words are not in the folio. Johnson.

Note return to page 253 8If no unconstant toy, &lblank;] If no fickle freak, no light caprice, no change of fancy, hinder the performance. Johnson.

Note return to page 254 9&lblank; from shrift, i. e. from confession.] So, in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1626: “Ay, like a wench comes roundly to her shrift.” In the old Morality of Every Man, bl. l. no date, confession is personified: “Now I pray you shrifte, mother of salvacyon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 255 1All our whole city is much bound to him.] Thus the folio and the quartos 1599 and 1609. The oldest quarto reads, I think, more grammatically: All our whole city is much bound unto. Steevens.

Note return to page 256 2We shall be short &lblank;] That is, we shall be defective. Johnson.

Note return to page 257 3Enter Juliet, and Nurse.] Instead of the next speech, the quarto 1597, supplies the following short dialogue: Nurse. Come, come, what need you anie thing else? Juliet. Nothing good nurse, but leave me to myselfe. Nurse. Well there's a cleane smocke under your pillow, and so good night. Steevens.

Note return to page 258 4For I have need, &c.] Juliet plays most of her pranks under the appearance of religion: perhaps Shakespeare meant to punish her hypocrisy. Johnson.

Note return to page 259 5Farewel! &c.] This speech received considerable additions after the elder copy was published. Steevens.

Note return to page 260 6What if this mixture do not work at all?] So, in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, tom. ii. p. 239. “&lblank; but what know I (sayd she) whether the operation of this pouder will be to soone or to late, or not correspondent to the due time, and that my faulte being discovered, I shall remayne a jesting stocke and fable to the people? what know I moreover, if the serpents and other venomous and crauling wormes, which commonly frequent the graves and pittes of the earth, will hurt me thinkyng that I am dead? But how shall I indure the stinche of so many carions and bones of myne auncestors which rest in the grave, if by fortune I do awake before Romeo and frier Laurence doe come to help me? And as she was thus plunged in the deepe contemplation of things, she thought that she sawe a certaine vision or fansie of her cousin Thibault, in the very same sort as she sawe him wounded and imbrued with blood; &c.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1139

Note return to page 261 7Shall I of force be married to the count?] Thus the eldest quarto. Succeeding quartos and the folio read: Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? Steevens.

Note return to page 262 8&lblank; lie thou there. Laying down a dagger.] This stage-direction has been supplied by the modern editors. The quarto, 1597, reads: “&lblank; Knife, lie thou there.” It appears from several passages in our old plays, that knives were formerly part of the accoutrements of a bride; and every thing behoveful for Juliet's state had just been left with her. So, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “See at my girdle hang my wedding knives!” Again, in King Edward III. 1599: “Here by my side do hang my wedding knives: “Take thou the one, and with it kill thy queen, “And with the other, I'll dispatch my love.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1140

Note return to page 263 9I will not entertain so had a thought.] This line I have restored from the quarto, 1597. Steevens.

Note return to page 264 1As in a vault, &c.] This idea was probably suggested to our poet by his native place. The charnel at Stratford upon Avon is a very large one, and perhaps contains a greater number of bones than are to be found in any other repository of the same kind in England.—I was furnished with this observation by Mr. Murphy, whose very elegant and spirited defence of Shakespeare against the criticisms of Voltaire, is one of the least considerable out of many favours which he has conferred on the literary world. Steevens.

Note return to page 265 2&lblank; green in earth,] i. e. fresh in earth, newly buried. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; of our dear brother's death, “The memory be green.” Again, in the Opportunity, by Shirley: “&lblank; I am but “Green in my honours.” Steevens.

Note return to page 266 3Lies festring &lblank;] Tofester is to corrupt. So, in K. Edward III. 1599: “Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.” This line likewise occurs in the 94th Sonnet of Shakespeare. The play of Edward III. has been ascribed to him. Steevens.

Note return to page 267 4&lblank; is it not like, that I] This speech is confused, and inconsequential, according to the disorder of Juliet's mind. Johnson.

Note return to page 268 5&lblank; run mad &lblank;] So, in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “I have this night dig'd up a mandrake, “And am grown mad with't.” So, in The Atheist's Tragedy, 1611: “The cries of mandrakes never touch'd the ear “With more sad horror, than that voice does mine.” Again, in A Christian turn'd Turk, 1612: “I'll rather give an ear to the black shrieks “Of mandrakes,” &c. Again, in Aristippus, or the Jovial Philosopher: “This is the mandrake's voice that undoes me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 269 6&lblank; be distraught.] Distraught is distracted. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, Song 10: “Is, for that river's sake, near of his wits distraught.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, B. 1. C. 9: “What frantic fit, quoth he, hath thus distraught, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 270 7The curfeu bell &lblank;] I know not that the morning-bell is called the curfeu in any other place. Johnson. The curfew bell was rung at nine in the evening, as appears from a passage in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1626: “&lblank; well 'tis nine o'clock, 'tis time to ring curfew.” Steevens.

Note return to page 271 8&lblank; a mouse-hunt &lblank;] It appears from a passage in Hamlet, that mouse was once a term of endearment applied to a woman: “Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 272 9&lblank; set up his rest,] This expression, which is frequently employed by the old dramatick writers, is taken from the manner of firing the harquebuss. This was so heavy a gun, that the soldiers were obliged to carry a supporter called a rest, which they fixed in the ground before they levelled to take aim. Decker uses it in his comedy of Old Fortunatus, 1600: “&lblank; set your heart at rest, for I have set up my rest, that unless you can run swifter than a hart, home you go not.” The same expression occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher's Elder Brother: “&lblank; My rest is up, “Nor will I go less—” See Montfaucon's Monarchie Françoise, tom. v. plate 48. Steevens.

Note return to page 273 1O son, the night before thy wedding day Hath death lain with thy wife. &lblank;] Euripides has sported with this thought in the same manner. Iphig. in Aul. ver. 460. &gldquo;&grT;&grha;&grn;&grd;&grap; &gra;&grusc; &grt;&graa;&grl;&gra;&gri;&gra;&grn; &grp;&gra;&grr;&grq;&grea;&grn;&gro;&grn; (&grt;&gria; &grp;&gra;&grr;&grq;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grn;; &gldquo;&GRAra;&grd;&grh;&grst; &grn;&gri;&grn;, &grwr;&grst; &gresa;&gro;&gri;&grk;&gre;, &grn;&gru;&grm;&grf;&gre;&grua;&grs;&gre;&gri; &grt;&graa;&grx;&gra;.)” Sir W. Rawlinson.

Note return to page 274 2Hath death lain with thy bride:] Perhaps this line is coarsely ridiculed in Decker's Satiromastix: “Dead: she's death's bride; he hath her maidenhead.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1143

Note return to page 275 3Flower as she was, deflowered now by him.] This jingle was common to other writers; and among the rest, to Greene, in his Greene in Conceipt, 1598: “&lblank; a garden-house having round about it many flowers, and within it much deflowring.” Collins.

Note return to page 276 4Death is my son-in-law, &c.] The remaining part of the speech I have restored from the quarto, 1609. Steevens.

Note return to page 277 5&lblank; morning's face,] The quarto, 1597, continues the speech of Paris thus: And doth it now present such prodigies? Accurst, unhappy, miserable man, Forlorn, forsaken, destitute I am; Born to the world to be a slave in it: Distrest, remediless, unfortunate. O heavens! Oh nature! wherefore did you make me, To live so vile, so wretched as I shall? Steevens.

Note return to page 278 6O woe! oh woeful, &c.] This speech of exclamations is not in the edition above-cited. Several other parts, unnecessary or tautology, are not to be found in the said edition; which occasions the variation in this from the common books. Pope.

Note return to page 279 7Peace, ho, for shame, confusions: care lives not In these confusions.] This speech, though it contains good Christian doctrine, though it is perfectly in character for the Friar, Mr. Pope has curtailed to little or nothing, because it has not the sanction of the first old copy. But there was another reason: certain corruptions started, which should have required the indulging his private sense to make them intelligible, and this was an unreasonable labour. As I have reformed the passage above quoted, I dare warrant I have restored our poet's text; and a fine sensible reproof it contains against immoderate grief. Theobald.

Note return to page 280 8For though some nature bids us all lament,] Some nature? Sure, it is the general rule of nature, or she could not bid us all lament. I have ventured to substitute an epithet, which, I suspect, was lost in the idle corrupted word some; and which admirably quadrates with the verse succeeding this. Theobald.

Note return to page 281 9All things, &c.] Instead of this and the following speeches, the eldest quarto has only a couplet: Cap. Let it be so, come woeful sorrow-mates, Let us together taste this bitter fate. Steevens.

Note return to page 282 1Enter Peter.] From the quarto of 1599, it appears, that the part of Peter was originally performed by William Kempe. Malone.

Note return to page 283 2My heart is full of woe:] This, if I mistake not, is the beginning of an old ballad. Steevens.

Note return to page 284 3O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me.] This is not in the folio, but the answer plainly requires it. Johnson. It was omitted in the folio by mistake, for it is found in the quarto 1609, from which the folio was manifestly printed. Malone.

Note return to page 285 4A dump anciently signified some kind of dance, as well as sorrow. So, in Humour out of Breath, a comedy, by John Day, 1607: “He loves nothing but an Italian dump, “Or a French brawl.” But on this occasion it means a mournful song. So, in the Arraignment of Paris, 1584, after the shepherds have sung an elegiac hymn over the hearse of Colin, Venus says to Paris: “&lblank; How cheers my lovely boy after this dump of woe? “Paris. Such dumps, sweet lady, as bin these, are deadly dumps to prove.” Steevens.

Note return to page 286 5&lblank; the gleek:] So, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “Nay, I can gleek, upon occasion.” To gleek is to scoff. The term is taken from an ancient game at cards called gleek. Steevens. The game is mentioned in the beginning of the present century, by Dr. King of the Commons, in his Art of Love: “But whether we diversion seek “In these, in Comet, or in Gleek, “Or Ombre, &c.” Nichols.

Note return to page 287 6When griping grief, &c.] The epithet griping was by no means likely to excite laughter at the time it was written. Lord Surry, in his translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid, makes the hero say: “New gripes of dred then pearse our trembling brestes.” Dr. Percy thinks that the questions of Peter are designed as a ridicule on the forced and unnatural explanations too often given by us painful editors of ancient authors. Steevens. In Commendation of Musicke. Where griping grief ye hart would wo&ubar;d, (& dolful domps ye mind oppresse, There musick with her silver sound, is wont with spede to geue redresse, Of troubled minds for every sore, swete musick hath a salue in store. In ioy it maks our mirth abound, in grief it chers our heauy sprights, The carefull head releaf hath found, by musicks pleasant swete delights Our senses, what should I saie more, are subject unto musicks lore. The Gods by musick hath their pray, the soule therein doth ioye, For as the Romaine poets saie, in seas whom pirats would destroye A Dolphin sau'd from death most sharpe, Arion plaiyng on his harp. Oh heauenly gift that turnes the minde, like as the sterne doth rule the ship, Of musick whom ye Gods assignde to comfort ma, whom cares would nip, Sith thou both man, & beast doest moue, what wisem&abar; th&ebar; will thee reprove? From the Paradise of Daintie Richard Edwards. Deuises, Fol. 31. b. Of Richard Edwards and William Hunnis, the authors of sundry poems in this collection, see an account in Wood's Athenæ Oxon. and also in Tanner's Bibliotheca. Sir John Hawkins. Another copy of this song is published by Dr. Percy, in the first volume of his Reliques of ancient English Poetry. Steevens.

Note return to page 288 7And doleful dumps the mind oppress,] This line I have recovered from the old copy. It was wanting to complete the stanza as it is afterwards repeated. Steevens.

Note return to page 289 8Simon Catling?] A catling was a small lutestring made of catgut. Steevens.

Note return to page 290 9Hugh Rebeck?] The fidler is so called from an instrument with three strings, which is mentioned by several of the old writers. Rebec, rebecquin. See Menage, in v. Rebec. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle: “&lblank; 'Tis present death for these fidlers to tune their rebecks before the Great Turk's grace.” In England's Helicon, 1614, is The Shepherd Arsilius his Song to his Rebeck, by Bar. Yong. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1146

Note return to page 291 1&lblank; because such fellows as you &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1597. The others read—because musicians. I should suspect that a fidler made the alteration. Steevens.

Note return to page 292 2&lblank; silver sound,] So, in the Return from Parnassus, 1606: “Faith, fellow fidlers, here's no silver sound in this place.” Again, in Wily Beguiled: “&lblank; what harmony is this “With silver sound that glutteth Sophos' ears?” Spenser perhaps is the first who used this phrase: “A silver sound that heav'nly music seem'd to make.” Steevens.

Note return to page 293 3Act V.] The acts are here properly enough divided, nor did any better distribution than the editors have already made, occur to me in the perusal of this play; yet it may not be improper to remark, that in the first folio, and I suppose the foregoing editions are in the same state, there is no division of the acts, and therefore some future editor may try, whether any improvement can be made, by reducing them to a length more equal, or interrupting the action at more proper intervals. Johnson.

Note return to page 294 4If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,] The sense is, If I may only trust the honesty of sleep, which I know however not to be so nice as not often to practise flattery. Johnson. The oldest copy reads—the flattering eye of sleep. Whether this reading ought to supersede the more modern one, I shall not pretend to determine: it appears to me, however, the most easily intelligible of the two. Steevens.

Note return to page 295 5My bosom's lord &lblank;] So, in King Arthur, a Poem, by R. Chester, 1601: “That neither Uter nor his councell knew “How his deepe besome's lord the dutchess thwarted.” The Author, in a marginal note, declares, that by bosom's lord he means—Cupid. Thus too, Shakespeare (as Mr. Malone observes to me) in Twelfth Night and Othello: It gives a very echo to the seat Where love is thron'd.— Again, Yield up, o Love, thy crown and hearted throne. Steevens. My bosom's lord &lblank;] These three lines are very gay and pleasing. But why does Shakespeare give Romeo this involuntary cheerfulness just before the extremity of unhappiness? Perhaps to shew the vanity of trusting to those uncertain and casual exaltations or depressions, which many consider as certain foretokens of good and evil. Johnson. The poet has explained this passage himself a little further on: “How oft, when men are at the point of death, “Have they been merry? which their keepers call “A lightning before death.” Again, in G. Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576: “&lblank; a lightning delight against his souden destruction.” Steevens.

Note return to page 296 6&lblank; in Capulet's monument.] The old copies read in Capel's monument; and thus Gascoigne in his Flowers, p. 51: “Thys token whych the Mountacutes did beare alwaies, so that “They covet to be knowne from Capels where they passe, “For ancient grutch whych long ago 'tweene these two houses was.” Steevens.

Note return to page 297 7&lblank; I defy you, stars!] The folio reads—deny you, stars. Steevens.

Note return to page 298 8Pardon me, sir, I dare not leave you thus.] This line is taken from the quarto, 1597. The quarto, 1609, and the folio, read: “I do beseech you, sir, have patience.” Steevens.

Note return to page 299 9A beggarly account of empty boxes;] Dr. Warburton would read, a braggartly account; but beggarly is probably right: if the boxes were empty, the account was more beggarly, as it was more pompous. Johnson. This circumstance is likewise found in Painter's translation, tom. ii. p. 241. “&lblank; beholdyng an apoticaries shoppe of lytle furniture, and lesse store of boxes and other thynges requisite for that science, thought that the verie povertie of the mayster apothecarye woulde make him wyllyngly yelde to that whych he pretended to demaunde.” Steevens.

Note return to page 300 1Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,] The first quarto reads: “And starved famine dwelleth in thy cheeks.” The quartos, 1599, 1609, and the folio: “Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes.” Our modern editors, without authority, Need and oppression stare within thine eyes. Steevens.

Note return to page 301 2Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,] This is the reading of the oldest copy. I have restored it in preference to the following line, which is found in all the subsequent impressions: “Contempt and beggary hang upon thy back.” In the First Part of Jeronimo, 1605, is a passage somewhat resembling this of Shakespeare: “Whose famish'd jaws look like the chaps of death, “Upon whose eye-brows hang damnation.” Steevens.

Note return to page 302 3One of our order, to associate me,] Each friar has always a companion assigned him by the superior whenever he asks leave to go out; and thus, says Baretti, they are a check upon each other. Steevens.

Note return to page 303 4&lblank; was not nice, &lblank;] i. e. was not written on a trivial or idle subject. Nice signifies foolish in many parts of Gower, and Chaucer. So, in the second book De Confessione Amantis, fol. 37: “My sonne, eschewe thilke vice.— “My father elles were I nice.” So, in Chaucer's Scogan unto the lordes, &c. “&lblank; the most complaint of all,   “Is to thinkin that I have be so nice, “That I ne would in vertues to me call, &c.” Again, in The longer thou livest the more Fool thou art, 1570: “You must appeare to be straunge and nyce.” The learned editor of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 1775, observes, that H. Stephens informs us, that nice was the old French word for niais, one of the synonymes of sot. Apol. Herod. l. i. c. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 304 5Within these three hours will fair Juliet wake;] Instead of this line, and the concluding part of the speech, the quarto, 1597, reads only: “Lest that the lady should before I come “Be wak'd from sleep, I will hye “To free her from that tombe of miserie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 305 6Fair Juliet, that with angels, &c.] These four lines from the old edition. Pope, The folio has these lines: “Sweet flow'r, with flow'rs thy bridal bed I strew;   “O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones, “Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,   “Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans. “The obsequies which I for thee will keep, “Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave, and weep.” Johnson. Mr. Pope has followed no copy with exactness; but took the first and fourth lines from the elder quarto, omitting the two intermediate verses, which I have restored. Steevens.

Note return to page 306 7&lblank; dear employment,] That is, action of importance. Gems were supposed to have great powers and virtues. Johnson. Ben Jonson uses the word dear in the same sense: “Put your known talents on so dear a business.” Catiline, Act 1. Again, in Chapman's version of the 10th book of the Odyssey: “&lblank; full pitching on “The dearest joint his head was plac'd upon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 307 8&lblank; savage-wild;] Here the speech concludes in the old copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 308 9&lblank; detestable &lblank;] This word, which is now accented on the second syllable, was once accented on the first; therefore this line did not originally seem to be inharmonious. So, in the Tragedie of Cræsus, 1604: “Court with vain words and détestable lyes.” Again, in Shakespeare's K. John, Act 3. Sc. 3: “And I will kiss thy detestable bones,” Steevens.

Note return to page 309 1Pull not &c.] The quarto, 1597, reads:—heap not. The quartos 1599 and 1609, and all the folios:—Put not.—Mr. Rowe first made the change, which may be discontinued at the reader's pleasure. Steevens.

Note return to page 310 2I do defy &c.] The quarto, 1597, reads, I do defy thy conjuration,] Paris conceived Romeo to have burst open the monument for no other purpose than to do some villainous shame on the dead bodies, such as witches are reported to have practised; and therefore tells him he defies him, and the magic arts which he suspects he is preparing to use. So, in Painter's translation of the novel, tom. ii. p. 244. “&lblank; the watch of the city by chance passed by, and seeing light within the grave, suspected straight that they were necromancers which had opened the tombs to abuse the dead bodies for aide of their arte.” The folio reads: I do defy thy commiseration. To defy, anciently meant to refuse or deny. So, in the Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “Or, as I said, for ever I defy your company.” Again, “Even from my soul I villainy defy.” Again, in the Miseries of Queen Margaret, by Drayton: “My liege, quoth he, all mercy now defy.” Again, in R. Green's Planetomachia, 1585: “I defy thee for my father who hast so displeased the Gods.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. ii. c. 8: “Foole (said the Pagan) I thy gift defye.” Again, b. v. c. 5: “She daily told her, love he did defye.” Paris may, however, mean—I refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, i. e. to depart. Steevens.

Note return to page 311 3&lblank; presence &lblank;] A presence is a public room. Johnson. This thought, extravagant as it is, is borrowed by Middleton in his comedy of Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “The darkest dungeon which spite can devise “To throw this carcase in, her glorious eyes “Can make as lightsome as the fairest chamber “In Paris Louvie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 312 4&lblank; O, how may I Call this a lightning? &lblank;] I think we should read, &lblank; O, now may I Call this a lightning? &lblank; Johnson. This idea occurs frequently in the old dramatic pieces. So in the second part of The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “I thought it was a lightning before death, “Too sudden to be certain.” Again, in Chapman's translation of the 15th Iliad: “&lblank; since after this he had not long to live, “This lightning flew before his death.” Again, in his translation of the 18th Odyssey: “&lblank; extend their chear “To th' utmost lightning that still ushers death.” Steevens.

Note return to page 313 5And death's pale flag, &c.] So, in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1594: “And nought-respecting death (the last of paines) “Plac'd his pale colours (th' ensign of his might) “Upon his new-got spoil; &c.” In the first edition of Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare is less florid in his account of the lady's beauty; and only says: “&lblank; ah, dear Juliet, “How well thy beauty doth become the grave!” The speech, as it now stands, is first found in the quarto, 1599. Steevens. And death's pale flag is not advanced there.] An ingenious friend some time ago pointed out to me a passage of Marini, which bears a very strong resemblance to this: Morte la'nsegna sua pallida e bianca Vincitrice spiegó su'l volto mio. Rime lugubri, p. 149, ed. Venet. 1605. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 314 6Tybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloody sheet?] So, in Painter's translation, tom. ii. p. 242. “&lblank; what greater or more cruel satisfaction canste thou desyre to have, or henceforth hope for, than to see hym which murdered thee, to be empoysoned wyth hys owne handes, and buryed by thy syde?” Steevens.

Note return to page 315 7And never from this palace of dim night Depart again: (Come lie thou in my arms; Here's to thy health. O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick.)] Mr. Pope's, and some other of the worser editions acknowledge absurdly the lines which I have put into parenthesis here; and which I have expunged from the text, for this reason: Romeo is made to confess the effect of the poison before ever he has tasted it. I suppose, it hardly was so savoury that the patient should choose to make two draughts of it. And, eight lines after these, we find him taking the poison in his hands, and making an apostrophe to it; inviting it to perform its office at once; and then, and not till then, does he clap it to his lips, or can with any probability speak of its instant force and effects. Besides, Shakespeare would hardly have made Romeo drink to the health of his dead mistress. Though the first quarto in 1599, and the two old folios, acknowledge this absurd stuff, I find it left out in several later quarto impressions. I ought to take notice, that though Mr. Pope has thought fit to stick to the old copies in this addition, yet he is no fair transcriber; for he has sunk upon us an hemistich of most profound absurdity which possesses all those copies. &lblank; Come, lie thou in my arms; “Here's to thy health, where-e'er thou tumblest in. O true apothecary! &c. Theobald. I have no edition but the folio, which has all the passage here mentioned. I have followed Mr. Theobald. Johnson. I am sorry to say, that the foregoing note is an instance of disingenuousness, as well as inattention in Mr. Theobald, who, relying on the scarcity of the old quartos, very frequently makes them answerable for any thing he thinks proper to assert. The quarto in 1599, was not the first. It was preceded by one in 1597; and though Mr. Theobald declares, he found the passage left out in several of the later quarto impressions, yet in the list of those he pretends to have collated for the use of his edition, he mentions but one of a later date, and had never seen either that published in 1609, or another without any date at all; for in the former of these, the passage in question is preserved (the latter I have no copy of), and he has placed that in 1637, on the single faith of which his rejection is founded, among those quartos of middling authority: so that what he so roundly affirms of several, can with justice be said of only one; for there are in reality no later quarto editions of this play than I have here enumerated, and two of those (by his own confession) he had never met with. The hemistich, which Mr. Theobald pronounces to be of most profound absurdity, may deserve a somewhat better character; but being misplaced, could not be connected with that part of that speech where he found it; yet, being introduced a few lines lower, seems to make very good sense. “Come bitter conduct! come unsav'ry guide! “Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on “The dashing rocks my sea-sick, weary bark! “Here's to thy health, where'er thou tumblest in. “Here's to my love! O true apothecary! “Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.” To tumble into port in a storm, I believe to be a sea-phrase, as is a tumbling sea, and agrees with the allusion to the pilot or the tempest-beaten bark. Here's success, says he (continuing the allusion) to thy vessel wherever it tumbles in, or perhaps, to the pilot who is to conduct, or tumble it in; meaning, I wish it may succeed in ridding me of life, whatever may betide me after it, or wherever it may carry me. He then drinks to the memory of Juliet's love, adding (as he feels the poison work) a short apostrophe to the apothecary, the effect of whose drugs he can doubt no longer; and turning his thoughts back again to the object most beloved, he dies (like Othello) on a kiss. The other hemistich (not disposed of) may yet be introduced; how naturally, must be left to the reader to determine. The quarto of 1609, exhibits the passage thus: ”&lblank; Ah, dear Juliet! “Why art thou yet so fair? I will believe; “Shall I believe? that unsubstantial death is amorous, “And that the lean,” &c. If such an idea could have any foundation in nature, or be allowed in poetry, and Romeo, in consequence of having raised it to his imagination, was jealous of death, it would follow, that in his first frenzy, he might address himself to his mistress, and take her in his arms for the greater security. That being granted, with a slight transposition (one verse already exceeding the measure by two feet) the passage might be read thus: “&lblank; Ah, dear Juliet! “Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe— “I will believe (come lie thou in my arms) “That unsubstantial death is amorous, “And that the lean,” &c. The object of dispute may perhaps be such as hardly to deserve this toil of transposition, but one critick has just as good a right to attempt the insertion of what he thinks he understands, as another has to omit a passage, because he can make no use of it at all. The whole of the conjecture is offered with the least degree of confidence, and from no other motive than a desire of preserving every line of Shakespeare, when any reason, tolerably plausible, can be given in its favour. Mr. Theobald has not dealt very fairly in his account of this speech, as the absurdity is apparently owing to the repetition of some of the lines by a blunder of the printer, who had thereby made Romeo confess the effects of the poison before he had tasted it. On second thoughts, it is not improbable, that Shakespeare had written—I will believe, and afterwards corrected it to—Shall I believe, without erasing the former: by which means it has happened that the printer has given us both, Thus, in what follows— Come lie thou in my arms, &c. might have been the poet's first sketch of the conclusion of Romeo's speech, which he forebore to obliterate, when he substituted—here, here will I remain, &c. This seems indeed to be evident from the edition of 1599, and the other old editions after that, in all which—Depart again, as the catch word, from which his amendment was to begin, is repeated. Let some future editor decide. Steevens.

Note return to page 316 8&lblank; my everlasting rest;] See a note on scene 5th of the preceding act. So, in the Spanish Gipsie, by Middleton and Rowley, 1653: “&lblank; could I set up my rest “That he were lost, or taken prisoner, “I could hold truce with sorrow.” To set up one's rest is to be determined to any certain purpose, to rest in perfect confidence and resolution, to make up one's mind. Again, in the same play: “Set up thy rest; her marriest thou, or none.” Steevens.

Note return to page 317 9Come bitter conduct.] Marston also in his satires, 1599, uses conduct for conductor: “Be thou my conduct and my genius.” So, in a former scene in this play: “And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1152

Note return to page 318 1&lblank; how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves?] This accident was reckoned ominous. So, in K. Henry VI. p. 3. For many men that stumble at the threshold, Are well foretold, that danger lurks within. Again, in K. Richard III. Hastings, going to execution, says: Three times to-day my footcloth horse did stumble. Steevens.

Note return to page 319 2I dreamt my master and another fought,] This is one of the touches of nature that would have escaped the hand of any painter less attentive to it than Shakespeare. What happens to a person while he is under the manifest influence of fear, will seem to him, when he is recovered from it, like a dream. Homer, Book 8th, represents Rhesus dying fast asleep, and as it were beholding his enemy in a dream plunging a sword into his bosom. Eustathius and Dacier both applaud this image as very natural; for a man in such a condition, says Pope, awakes no further than to see confusedly what environs him, and to think it not a reality, but a vision. Steevens.

Note return to page 320 3&lblank; and unnatural sleep;] Shakespeare alludes to the sleep of Juliet, which was unnatural, being brought on by drugs. Steevens.

Note return to page 321 4Snatching Romeo's dagger.] So, in Painter's translation of Pierre Boisteau, tom. ii. p. 244.—Drawing out the dagger which Romeo ware by his side, she pricked herself with many blowes against the heart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 322 5&lblank; there rust and let me die.] Is the reading of the quarto 1599. That of 1597 gives the passage thus: “I, noise? then must I be resolute. “Oh, happy dagger! thou shalt end my fear, “Rest in my bosom, thus I come to thee.” The alteration was probably made by the poet, when he introduced the words, “This is thy sheath.” Steevens.

Note return to page 323 6Raise up the Montagues.—'Some other search: &lblank;] Here seems to be a rhyme intended, which may be easily restored; “Raise up the Montagues. Some others, go. “We see the ground whereon these woes do lie, “But the true ground of all this piteous woe “We cannot without circumstance descry.” Johnson. It was often thought sufficient, in the time of Shakespeare, for the second and fourth lines in a stanza, to rhime with each other. Steevens.

Note return to page 324 7What fear is this, which startles in your ears?] Read, “What fear is this, which startles in our ears?” Johnson.

Note return to page 325 8&lblank; lo! his house, &c.] The modern editors (contrary to the authority of all the ancient copies, and without attention to the disagreeable assonance of sheath and sheathed, which was first introduced by Mr. Pope) read, “This dagger hath mista'en; for, lo! the sheath “Lies empty on the back of Montague, “The point mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.” The quarto, 1597, erroneously, “&lblank; this dagger hath mistook, “For (loe) the backe is empty of yong Montague, “And it is sheathed in our daughter's breast.” The quarto, 1599, affords the true reading, “This dagger hath mistane, for, loe! his house “Is emptie on the back of Montague, “And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosome.” If we do not read it instead of is, Capulet will be made to say— The scabbard is at once empty on the back of Montague, and sheathed in Juliet's bosom. The construction even with this emendation will be irregular. The quartos, 1609, 1637, and the folio 1623, offer the same reading, except that they concur in giving is instead of it. It appears that the dagger was anciently worn behind the back. So, in The longer thou livest the more Fool thou art, 1570: “Thou must weare thy sworde by thy side, “And thy dagger handsumly at thy backe.” Again, in Humor's Ordinarie, &c. an ancient collection of fatires, no date: “See you the huge bum dagger at his backe?” Steevens. The passage, as it stands in the quarto of 1609, and in the first folio, if regulated thus, is perfectly grammatical: “This dagger hath mista'en, (for lo! his house “Lies empty on the back of Montague) “And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.” Malone.

Note return to page 326 9&lblank; for thou art early up, &c.] This speech (as appears from the following passage in The Second Part of the Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601) has something proverbial in it: “In you i'faith the proverb's verified, “You are early up, and yet are ne'er the near.” Steevens.

Note return to page 327 1Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;] After this line the quarto 1597 adds, “And young Benvolio is deceased too.” But this I suppose the poet rejected on his revision of the play, as unnecessary slaughter. Steevens.

Note return to page 328 2O, thou untaught! &c.] So, in The Tragedy of Darius, 1603: “Ah me! malicious fates have done me wrong: “Who came first to the world, should first depart. “It not becomes the old t'o'er-live the young; “This dealing is preposterous and o'er-thwart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 329 3Laurence.] It is much to be lamented, that the poet did not conclude the dialogue with the action, and avoid a narrative of events which the audience already knew. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1154

Note return to page 330 4A glooming peace, &c.] The modern editions read—gloomy; but glooming, which is the old reading, may be the true one. So, in the Spanish Tragedy, 1605: “Through dreadful shades of ever-glooming night.” To gloom is an ancient verb used by Spenser; and I meet with it likewise in the play of Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1598: “If either he gaspeth or gloometh.” Steevens.

Note return to page 331 5Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:] This seems to be not a resolution in the prince, but a reflection on the various dispensations of Providence; for who was there that could justly be punished by any human law? Edwards's MSS. This line has reference to the novel from which the fable is taken. Here we read that Juliet's female attendant was banished for concealing the marriage; Romeo's servant set at liberty because he had only acted in obedience to his master's orders; the apothecary taken, tortured, condemned, and hanged; while Friar Laurence was permitted to retire to a hermitage in the neighbourhood of Verona, where he ended his life in penitence and peace. Steevens.

Note return to page 332 6&lblank; Juliet and her Romeo.] Shakespeare has not effected the alteration of this play by introducing any new incidents, but merely by adding to the length of the scenes. The piece appears to have been always a very popular one. Marston, in his satires, 1598, says: “Luscus, what's play'd to-day?—faith, now I know “I set thy lips abroach, from whence doth flow “Nought but pure Juliet and Romeo.” Steevens.9Q1155

Note return to page 333 This play is one of the most pleasing of our author's performances. The scenes are busy and various, the incidents numerous and important, the catastrophe irresistibly affecting, and the process of the action carried on with such probability, at least with such congruity to popular opinions, as tragedy requires. Here is one of the few attempts of Shakespeare to exhibit the conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy sprightliness of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition, which might easily reach his time, of a declaration made by Shakespeare, that he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should have been killed by him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable person, but that he might have lived through the play, and died in his bed, without danger to a poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in quest of truth, that, in a pointed sentence, more regard is commonly had to the words than the thought, and that it is very seldom to be rigorously understood. Mercutio's wit, gaiety, and courage, will always procure him friends that wish him a longer life; but his death is not precipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of Shakespeare to have continued his existence, though some of his sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was not very fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour, but acute, argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime. The Nurse is one of the characters in which the author delighted: he has, with great subtilty of distinction, drawn her at once loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest. His comic scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetic strains are always polluted with some unexpected depravations. His persons, however distressed, have a conceit left them in their misery, a miserable conceit. Johnson.9Q1156

Note return to page 334 1Hamlet.] The original story on which this play is built, may be found in Saxo Grammaticus the Danish historian. From thence Belleforest adopted it in his collection of novels, in seven volumes, which he began in 1564, and continued to publish through succeeding years. From this work, The Hystorie of Hamblett, quarto, bl. l. was translated. I have hitherto met with no earlier edition of the play than one in the year 1604, though it must have been performed before that time, as I have seen a copy of Speght's edition of Chaucer, which formerly belonged to Dr. Gabriel Harvey, (the antagonist of Nash) who, in his own hand-writing, has set down the play, as a performance with which he was well acquainted, in the year 1598. His words are these: “The younger sort take much delight in Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis; but his Lucrece, and his tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmarke, have it in them to please the wiser sort, 1598.” In the books of the Stationers' Company this play was entered by James Roberts, July 26, 1602, under the title of “A booke called The Revenge of Hamlett, Prince of Denmarke, as it was lately acted by the Lord Chamberlain his servantes.” In Eastward Hoe by G. Chapman, B. Jonson, and T. Marston, 1605, is a fling at the hero of this tragedy. A footman named Hamlet enters, and a tankard-bearer asks him—“'Sfoote, Hamlet, are you mad?” The following particulars, relative to the date of the piece, are borrowed from Dr. Farmer's Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare, p. 85, 86, second edition. “Greene, in the Epistle prefixed to his Arcadia, hath a lash at some “vaine glorious tragedians,” and very plainly at Shakespeare in particular.—“I leave all these to the mercy of their mother-tongue, that feed on nought but the crums that fall from the translator's trencher.—That could scarcely latinize their neck verse if they should have neede, yet English Seneca read by candlelight yeelds many good sentences—hee will affoord you whole Hamlets, I should say, handfuls of tragicall speeches.”—I cannot determine exactly when this Epistle was first published; but, I fancy, it will carry the original Hamlet somewhat further back than we have hitherto done: and it may be observed, that the oldest copy now extant, is said to be “enlarged to almost as much againe as it was.” Gabriel Harvey printed at the end of the year 1592, “Foure Letters and certaine Sonnetts, especially touching Robert Greene:” in one of which his Arcadia is mentioned. Now Nash's Epistle must have been previous to these, as Gabriel is quoted in it with applause; and the Foure Letters were the beginning of a quarrel. Nash replied, in “Strange news of the intercepting certaine Letters, and a Convoy of Verses, as they were going privilie to victuall the Low Countries, 1593.” Harvey rejoined the same year in “Pierce's Supererogation, or a new praise of the old Asse.” And Nash again, in “Have with you to Saffron-Walden, or Gabriell Harvey's Hunt is up; containing a full answer to the eldest sonne of the halter-maker, 1596.”—Nash died before 1606, as appears from an old comedy called “The Return from Parnassus.” Steevens.

Note return to page 335 2Act I.] This play is printed both in the folio of 1623, and in the quarto of 1637, more correctly, than almost any other of the works of Shakespeare. Johnson.

Note return to page 336 3&lblank; me:] i. e. me who am already on the watch, and have a right to demand the watch-word. Steevens.

Note return to page 337 4The rivals of my watch,] Rivals, for partners. Warburton. By rivals of the watch are meant those who were to watch on the next adjoining ground. Rivals, in the original sense of the word, were proprietors of neighbouring lands, parted only by a brook, which belonged equally to both. Hanmer. So, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1636: “Tullia. Aruns, associate him. “Aruns. A rival with my brother, &c.” Again, in the Tragedy of Hoffman, 1637: “And make thee rival in those governments.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra, Act 3. Sc. 5:—having made use of him in the wars against Pompey, presently deny'd him rivality.” Steevens. I should propose to point and alter this passage thus— If you do meet Horatio, and Marcellus The rival of my watch— Horatio is represented throughout the play as a gentleman of no profession. Marcellus was an officer, and consequently did that through duty, for which Horatio had no motive but curiosity. Besides, there is but one person on each watch. Bernardo comes to relieve Francisco, and Marcellus to supply the place of some other on the adjoining station. The reason why Bernardo as well as the rest expect Horatio, was because he knew him to be informed of what had happened the night before. Warner.

Note return to page 338 5Hor. A piece of him.] But why a piece? He says this as he gives his hand. Which direction should be marked. Warb. A piece of him, is, I believe, no more than a cant expression. Steevens.

Note return to page 339 6What, &c.] The quartos give this speech to Horatio. Steevens.

Note return to page 340 7&lblank; the minutes of this night;] This seems to have been an expression common in Shakespeare's time. I find it in one of Ford's plays, The Fancies, Act 5. I promise ere the minutes of the night. Steevens.

Note return to page 341 8&lblank; approve our eyes, &lblank;] Add a new testimony to that of our eyes. Johnson. So, in Heywood's Iron Age, 1632: “I can by grounded arguments approve “Your power and potency.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: &lblank; I am full sorry That he approves the common lyar, who Thus speaks of him at Rome. &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 342 9What we two nights have seen.] This line is by Hanmer given to Marcellus, but without necessity. Johnson.

Note return to page 343 1It harrows me, &c.] To harrow is to conquer, to subdue. The word is of Saxon origin. So, in the old bl. l. romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys: “He swore by him that harowed hell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 344 2&lblank; an angry parle,] This is one of the affected words introduced by Lilly. So, in Two Wise Men and all the Rest Fools, 1619: “&lblank; that you told me at our last parle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 345 3He smote the sledded Polack on the ice.] Pole-ax in the common editions. He speaks of a prince of Poland whom he slew in battle. He uses the word Polack again, Act 2. Scene 4. Pope. Polack was, in that age, the term for an inhabitant of Poland: Polaque, French. As in F. Davison's translation of Passeratius's epitaph on Henry III. of France, published by Camden: “Whether thy chance or choice thee hither brings, “Stay, passenger, and wail the best of kings. “This little stone a great king's heart doth hold, “Who rul'd the fickle French and Polacks bold: “Whom, with a mighty warlike host attended, “With trait'rous knife a cowled monster ended. “So frail are even the highest earthly things, “Go, passenger, and wail the hap of kings.” Johnson. Again, in Vittoria Corombona, &c. 1612: “&lblank; I scorn him “Like a shav'd Pollack &lblank;” Steevens.

Note return to page 346 4A sled, or sledge] Is a carriage without wheels, made use of in the cold countries. So, in Tamburlaine or the Scythian Shepherd, 1590. “&lblank; upon an ivory sled “Thou shalt be drawn among the frozen poles.” Steev.

Note return to page 347 5&lblank; and just at this dead hour,] The old quarto reads jumpe: but the following editions discarded it for a more fashionable word. Warburton. The old reading is, jump at this same hour; same is a kind of correlative to jump; just is in the oldest folio. The correction was probably made by the author. Johnson. Jump and just were synonymous in the time of Shakespeare. Ben Jonson speaks of verses made on jump names, i. e. names that suit exactly. Nash says—“and jumpe, imitating a verse in As in præsenti.” So, in Chapman's May Day, 1611: “Your appointment was jump at three, with me.” Again, in The Arcadia by Shirley, 1640. “&lblank; so even and jump with his desires.” Again, in M. Kyffin's translation of the Andria of Terence, 1588: “Comes he this day so jump in the very time of this marriage?” Steevens.

Note return to page 348 6In what particular thought to work,] i. e. What particular train of thinking to follow. Steevens.

Note return to page 349 7&lblank; Gross and scope &lblank;] General thoughts, and tendency at large. Johnson.

Note return to page 350 8&lblank; daily cast &lblank;] The quartos read cost. Steevens.

Note return to page 351 9&lblank; who by a seal'd compact, Well ratified by law and heraldry,] The subject spoken of is a duel between two monarchs, who fought for a wager, and entered into articles for the just performance of the terms agreed upon. Two sorts of law then were necessary to regulate the decision of the affair: the civil law, and the law of arms; as, had there been a wager without a duel, it had been the civil law only; or a duel without a wager, the law of arms only. Let us see now how our author is made to express this sense. &lblank; a seal'd compact, Well ratified by law and heraldry. Now law, as distinguished from heraldry, signifying the civil law; and this seal'd compact being a civil law act, it is as much as to say, An act of law well ratified by law, which is absurd. For the nature of ratification requires that which ratifies, and that which is ratified, should not be one and the same, but different. For these reasons I conclude Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; who by seal'd compact Well ratified by law of heraldry. i. e. the execution of the civil compact was ratified by the law of arms; which, in our author's time, was called the law of heraldry. So the best and exactest speaker of that age: In the third kind, [i. e. of the Jus gentium] the law of heraldry in war is positive, &c. Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity. Warburton. Mr. Upton says, that Shakespeare sometimes expresses one thing by two substantives, and that law and heraldry means, by the herald law. So Ant. and Cleop. Act 4. “Where rather I expect victorious life, “Than death and honour, i. e. honourable death.” Steevens. Puttenham, in his Art of Poesie, speaks of the Figure of Twynnes, “horses and barbes, for barbed horses, venim & Dartes, for venimous Dartes, &c.” Farmer.

Note return to page 352 1&lblank; as, by that cov'nant, And carriage of the articles design'd,] The old quarto reads: &lblank; as by the same comart; and this is right. Comart signifies a bargain, and carriage of the articles, the covenants entered into to confirm that bargain. Hence we see the common reading makes a tautology. Warburton. I can find no such word as comart in any dictionary. Steev.

Note return to page 353 2And carriage of the articles design'd,] Carriage, is import: design'd, is formed, drawn up between them. Johnson.

Note return to page 354 3Of unimproved mettle &lblank;] Unimproved, for unrefined. Warburton. Full of unimproved mettle, is full of spirit not regulated or guided by knowledge or experience. Johnson.

Note return to page 355 4Shark'd up a list, &c.] I believe to shark up means to pick up without distinction, as the shark-fish collects his prey. The quartos read lawless instead of landless. Steevens.

Note return to page 356 5That hath a stomach in't; &lblank;] Stomach, in the time of our author, was used for constancy, resolution. Johnson.

Note return to page 357 6And terms compulsative, &lblank;] The old quarto, better, compulsatory. Warburton.

Note return to page 358 7&lblank; romage &lblank;] Tumultuous hurry. Johnson.

Note return to page 359 8I think, &c.] These, and all other lines confin'd within crotchets throughout this play, are omitted in the folio edition of 1623. The omissions leave the play sometimes better and sometimes worse, and seem made only for the sake of abbreviation. Johnson. It may be worth while to observe, that the title pages of the first quartos in 1604 and 1605, declare this play to be enlarged to almost as much againe as it was, according to the true and perfect coppy. Steevens.

Note return to page 360 9Well may it sort, &lblank;] The cause and the effect are proportionate and suitable. Johnson.

Note return to page 361 1A mote it is, &lblank;] The first quarto reads, a moth. Steevens.

Note return to page 362 2&lblank; palmy state of Rome,] Palmy, for victorious; in the other editions, flourishing. Pope.

Note return to page 363 3Stars shone with trains of fire, dews of blood fell; &c.] Thus Mr. Rowe altered these lines, which have no immediate connection with the preceding ones. The quartos read (for the passage is not in the folio): As stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun, &lblank; Perhaps an intermediate line is lost. Steevens.

Note return to page 364 4Disasters veil'd the sun; &lblank;] Disasters is here finely used in its original signification of evil conjunction of stars. Warburton.

Note return to page 365 5And even &lblank;] Not only such prodigies have been seen in Rome, but the elements have shewn our countrymen like forerunners and foretokens of violent events. Johnson.

Note return to page 366 6&lblank; precurse of fierce events,] Fierce, for terrible. Warburton. I rather believe that fierce signifies conspicuous, glaring. It is used in a somewhat similar sense in Timon.—O the fierce wretchedness that glory brings! Steevens.

Note return to page 367 7And prologue to the omen coming on,] But prologue and omen are merely synonymous here. The poet means, that these strange phænomena are prologues and forerunners of the events presag'd: and such sense the slight alteration, which I have ventured to make, by changing omen to omen'd, very aptly gives. Theobald. Omen, for fate. Warburton. Hanmer follows Theobald. A distich from the life of Merlin, by Heywood, will shew that there is no occasion for correction: “Merlin well vers'd in many an hidden spell, “His countries omen did long since foretell.” Farmer. Again, in the Vowbreaker: “And much I fear the weakness of her braine “Should draw her to some ominous exigent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 368 8If thou hast any sound, &lblank;] The speech of Horatio to the spectre is very elegant and noble, and congruous to the common traditions of the causes of apparitions. Johnson.

Note return to page 369 9Whether in sea, &c.] According to the pneumatology of that time, every element was inhabited by its peculiar order of spirits, who had dispositions different, according to their various places of abode. The meaning therefore is, that all spirits extravagant, wandering out of their element, whether aerial spirits visiting earth, or earthly spirits ranging the air, return to their station, to their proper limits in which they are confined. We might read, &lblank; And at his warning “Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies “To his confine, whether in sea or air, “Or earth, or fire. And of,” &c. But this change, though it would smooth the construction, is not necessary, and, being unnecessary, should not be made against authority. Johnson. Bourne of Newcastle, in his Antiquities of the common People, informs us, “It is a received tradition among the vulgar, that at the time of cock-crowing, the midnight spirits forsake these lower regions, and go to their proper places.—Hence it is, says he, that in country places, where the way of life requires more early labor, they always go chearfully to work at that time; whereas if they are called abroad sooner, they imagine every thing they see a wandering ghost.” And he quotes on this occasion, as all his predecessors had done, the well-known lines from the first hymn of Prudentius. I know not whose translation he gives us, but there is an old one by Heywood. The pious Chansons, the hymns and carrols, which Shakespeare mentions presently, were usually copied from the elder Christian poets. Farmer.

Note return to page 370 1Th' extravagant &lblank;] i. e. got out of its bounds. Warburton. So, in Nobody and Somebody, 1598: “&lblank; they took me up for a 'stravagant.” Steevens.

Note return to page 371 2It faded on the crowing of the cock.] This is a very ancient superstition. Philostratus giving an account of the apparition of Achilles' shade to Apollonius Tyaneus, says that it vanished with a little glimmer as soon as the cock crowed. Vit. Apol. iv. 16. Steevens.

Note return to page 372 3Dares stir abroad. Quarto. The folio reads—can walk—. Steevens.

Note return to page 373 4No fairy takes,] No fairy strikes with lameness or diseases. This sense of take is frequent in this author. Johnson.

Note return to page 374 5&lblank; high eastern hill:] The old quarto has it better eastward. Warburton. The superiority of the latter of these readings is not, to me at least, very apparent. I find the former used in Lingua, &c. 1607: “&lblank; and overclimbs “Yonder gilt eastern hills.” Eastern and eastward, alike signify toward the East. Steevens.

Note return to page 375 6With one auspicious, and one dropping eye;] Thus the folio. The quarto, with somewhat less of quaintness: With an auspicious, and a dropping eye. The same thought, however, occurs in the Winter's Tale: “She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband; another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled.” Steevens.

Note return to page 376 7Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,] The meaning is, He goes to war so indiscreetly, and unprepared, that he has no allies to support him but a dream, with which he is colleagued or confederated. Warburton. Hanmer reads—collogued, and perhaps rightly, as this word is frequently used by Shakespeare's contemporaries. So, in Marston's Malecontent, 1604: “Why look you, we must collogue sometimes, forswear sometimes.” Again, in Green's Tu Quoque, 1599: “Collogue with her again.” Again, in Heywood's Love's Mistress, 1636: “This colloguing lad.” Again, in Swetnam Arraign'd, 1620: “For they are cozening, colloguing, ungrateful, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 377 8&lblank; to suppress His further gait therein,] Gate or gait is here used in the northern sense, for proceeding, passage; from the A. S. verb gae. A gate for a path, passage, or street, is still current in the north. Percy.

Note return to page 378 9&lblank; more than the scope] More than is comprised in the general design of these articles, which you may explain in a more diffuse and dilated stile. Johnson.

Note return to page 379 1&lblank; these dilated articles] i. e. the articles when dilated. Musgrave.

Note return to page 380 2The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.] This is a flagrant instance of the first editor's stupidity, in preferring sound to sense. But head, heart, and hand, he thought must needs go together, where an honest man was the subject of the encomium: tho' what he could mean by the head's being native to the heart, I cannot conceive. The mouth indeed of an honest man might, perhaps, in some sense, be said to be native, that is, allied to the heart. But the speaker is here talking not of a moral, but a physical alliance. And the force of what is said is supported only by that distinction. I suppose, then, that Shakespeare wrote: The blood is not more native to the heart, &lblank; Than to the throne of Denmark is thy father. This makes the sentiment just and pertinent. As the blood is formed and sustained by the labour of the heart, the mouth supplied by the office of the hand, so is the throne of Denmark by your father, &c. The expression too of the blood's being native to the heart, is extremely fine. For the heart is the laboratory where that vital liquor is digested, distributed, and (when weakened and debilitated) again restored to the vigour necessary for the discharge of its functions. Warburton. Part of this emendation I have received, but cannot discern why the head is not as much native to the heart, as the blood, that is, natural and congenial to it, born with it, and co-operating with it. The relation is likewise by this reading better preserved, the counsellor being to the king as the head to the heart. Johnson. I am not certain that the part of Dr. Warburton's emendation which is received, is necessary. The sense seems to be this, the head is not formed to be more useful to the heart, the hand is not more at the service of the mouth, than my power is at your father's service. That is, he may command me to the utmost; he may do what he pleases with my kingly authority. Steevens.

Note return to page 381 3Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy fair graces: spend it at thy will.] This is the pointing in both Mr. Pope's editions; but the poet's meaning is lost by it, and the close of the sentence miserably flatten'd. The pointing, I have restored, is that of the best copies; and the sense, this: “You have my leave to go, Laertes; make the fairest use you please of your time, and spend it at your will with the fairest graces you are master of.” Theobald. I rather think this line is in want of emendation. I read, &lblank; Time is thine, And my best graces; spend it at thy will. Johnson.

Note return to page 382 4Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind.] The king had called him, cousin Hamlet, therefore Hamlet replies, A little more than kin, &lblank; i. e. A little more than cousin; because, by marrying his mother, he was become the king's son-in-law: so far is easy. But what means the latter part, &lblank; and less than kind? The king, in the present reading, gives no occasion for this reflection, which is sufficient to shew it to be faulty, and that we should read and point the first line thus, But now, my cousin Hamlet—kind my son &lblank; i. e. But now let us turn to you, cousin Hamlet. Kind my son (or, as we now say, Good my son) lay aside this clouded look. For thus he was going to expostulate gently with him for his melancholy, when Hamlet cut him short by reflecting on the titles he gave him; A little more than kin, and less than kind, which we now see is a pertinent reply. Warburton. A little more than kin, and less than kind.] It is not unreasonable to suppose that this was a proverbial expression, known in former times for a relation so confused and blended, that it was hard to define it. Hanmer. Kind is the Teutonick word for child. Hamlet therefore answers with propriety, to the titles of cousin and son, which the king had given him, that he was somewhat more than cousin, and less than son. Johnson. In this line, with which Shakespeare introduces Hamlet, Dr. Johnson has perhaps pointed out a nicer distinction than it can justly boast of. To establish the sense contended for, it should have been proved that kind was ever used by any English writer for child. A little more than kin, is a little more than a common relation. The king was certainly something less than kind, by having betrayed the mother of Hamlet into an indecent and incestuous marriage, and obtained the crown by means which he suspects to be unjustifiable. In the 5th Act, the Prince accuses his uncle of having popt in between the election and his hopes; which obviates Dr. Warburton's objection to the old reading, viz. that “the king had given no occasion for such a reflection.” A jingle of the same sort is found in Mother Bombie 1594, and seems to have been proverbial, as I have met with it more than once: “&lblank; the nearer we are in blood, the further we must be from love; the greater the kindred is, the less the kindness must be.” Again, in Gorboduc, a tragedy, 1565: “In kinde a father, but not in kindelyness.” As kind, however, signifies nature, Hamlet may mean that his relationship was become an unnatural one, as it was partly founded upon incest. Our author's Julius Cæsar, Antony and Cleopatra, King Richard II, and Titus Andronicus, exhibit instances of kind being used for nature; and so too in this play of Hamlet, Act 2. Sc. the last: Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain. Steevens.9Q1159

Note return to page 383 5&lblank; too much i' the sun.] He perhaps alludes to the proverb, Out of heaven's blessing into the warm sun. Johnson. &lblank; too much i' the sun. Meaning probably his being sent for from his studies to be exposed at his uncle's marriage as his chiefest courtier, &c. Steevens. I question whether a quibble between sun and son be not here intended. Farmer.

Note return to page 384 6&lblank; vailed lids,] With lowering eyes, cast down eyes. Johnson.

Note return to page 385 7&lblank; shews of grief,] Thus the folio. The first quarto reads— chapes—I suppose for shapes. Steevens.

Note return to page 386 8&lblank; your father lost a father; That father, his; and the survivor bound] Thus Mr. Pope judiciously corrected the faulty copies. On which the editor Mr. Theobald thus descants: This supposed refinement is from Mr. Pope, but all the editions else, that I have met with, old and modern, read, That father lost, lost his; &lblank; The reduplication of which word here gives an energy and an elegance, which is much easier to be conceived than explained in terms. I believe so: for when explained in terms it comes to this; That father after he had lost himself, lost his father. But the reading is ex fide codicis, and that is enough. Warburton. I do not admire the repetition of the word, but it has so much of our author's manner, that I find no temptation to recede from the old copies. Johnson. &lblank; your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his; &lblank; The meaning of the passage is no more than this. Your father lost a father, i. e. your grandfather, which lost grandfather, also lost his father. Steevens.

Note return to page 387 9&lblank; obsequious sorrow. &lblank;] Obsequious is here from obsequies or funeral ceremonies. Johnson. So, in Titus Andronicus: “To shed obsequious tears upon his trunk.” Steevens. Again, in our author's 31st Sonnet: How many a holy and obsequious tear, Hath dear religious love stoll'n from mine eye! Malone.

Note return to page 388 1In obstinate condolement,] Condolement, for sorrow. Warburton.

Note return to page 389 2&lblank; a will most incorrect &lblank;] Incorrect, for untutor'd. Warburton.

Note return to page 390 3To reason most absurd; &lblank;] Reason, for experience. Warburton. Reason is here used in its common sense, for the faculty by which we form conclusions from arguments. Johnson.

Note return to page 391 4And with no less nobility of love,] Nobility, for magnitude. Warburton. Nobility is rather generosity. Johnson.

Note return to page 392 5Do I impart toward you. &lblank;] Impart, for profess. Warburton. I believe impart is, impart myself, communicate whatever I can bestow. Johnson. Do I impart toward you. &lblank; The crown of Denmark was elective. So, in Sir Clyomon Knight of the Golden Shield, &c. 1599: “And me possess for spoused wife, who in election am “To have the crown of Denmark here, as heir unto the same.” The king means, that as Hamlet stands the fairest chance to be next elected, he will strive with as much love to ensure the crown to him, as a father would shew in the continuance of heirdom to a son. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1160

Note return to page 393 6&lblank; bend you to remain] i. e. subdue your inclination to go from hence, and remain, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 394 7No jocund health, &lblank;] The king's intemperance is very strongly impressed; every thing that happens to him gives him occasion to drink. Johnson.

Note return to page 395 8&lblank; resolve itself into a dew!] Resolve means the same as dissolve. Ben Jonson uses the word in his Volpone, and in the same sense. “Forth the resolved corners of his eyes.” Again, in the Country Girl, 1647: “&lblank; my swoln grief, resolved in these tears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 396 9Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!] The generality of the editions read thus, as if the poet's thought were, Or that the Almighty had not planted his artillery, or arms of vengeance, against self-murder. But the word which I restored (and which was espoused by the accurate Mr. Hughes, who gave an edition of this play) is the true reading, i. e. that he had not restrained suicide by his express law and peremptory prohibition. Theobald. There are yet those who suppose the old reading to be the true one, as they say the word fixed seems to decide very strongly in its favour. I would advise such to recollect Virgil's expression: &lblank; fixit leges pretio, atque refixit. Steevens.

Note return to page 397 1So excellent a king, that was, to this, Hyperion to a Satyr: &lblank;] This similitude at first sight seems to be a little far-fetch'd; but it has an exquisite beauty. By the Satyr is meant Pan, as by Hyperion, Apollo. Pan and Apollo were brothers, and the allusion is to the contention between those gods for the preference in musick. Warburton. All our English poets are guilty of the same false quantity, and call Hyp&eshort;r&ibar;on Hyp&ebar;r&ishort;on; at least the only instance I have met with to the contrary, is in the old play of Fuimus Troes, 1603: “&lblank; Blow gentle Africus, “Play on our poops, when Hyp&eshort;r&ibar;on's son “Shall couch in West.” Steevens.

Note return to page 398 2In former editions, That he permitted not the winds of heaven] This is a sophistical reading, copied from the players in some of the modern editions, for want of understanding the poet, whose text is corrupt in the old impressions: all of which that I have had the fortune to see, concur in reading; &lblank; So loving to my mother, That he might not beteene the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Beteene is a corruption without doubt, but not so inveterate a one, but that, by the change of a single letter, and the separation of two words mistakenly jumbled together, I am verily persuaded, I have retrieved the poet's reading—That he might not let e'en the winds of heaven, &c. Theobald. So, in the Enterlude of the Lyfe and Repentaunce of Marie Magdalaine, &c. by Lewis Wager, 1567: “But evermore they were unto me very tender, “They would not suffer the wynde on me to blowe.” Steevens. So again, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: “&lblank; she had a lord, “Jealous that air should ravish her chaste looks.” Malone.

Note return to page 399 3&lblank; I'll change that name &lblank;] I'll be your servant, you shall be my friend. Johnson.

Note return to page 400 4&lblank; what make you &lblank;] A familiar phrase for what are you doing. Johnson.

Note return to page 401 5&lblank; good even, sir.] So the copies. Sir Th. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton put it, good morning. The alteration is of no importance, but all licence is dangerous. There is no need of any change. Between the first and eighth scene of this act it is apparent, that a natural day must pass, and how much of it is already over, there is nothing that can determine. The king has held a council. It may now as well be evening as morning. Johnson.

Note return to page 402 6&lblank; the funeral bak'd meats] It was anciently the general custom to give a cold entertainment to mourners at a funeral. In distant counties this practice is continued among the yeomanry. See The Tragique Historie of the Faire Valeria of London, 1598. “His corpes was with funerall pompe conveyed to the church, and there sollemnly enterred, nothing omitted which necessitie or custom could claime; a sermon, a banquet, and like observations.” Again, in the old romance of Syr Degore, bl. l. no date. “A great feaste would he holde “Upon his quenes mornynge day “That was buryed in an abbay.” Collins.

Note return to page 403 7Dearest, for direst, most dreadful, most dangerous. Johnson. Dearest is most immediate, consequential, important. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; a ring that I must use “In dear employment.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's Maid in the Mill: You meet your dearest enemy in love, With all his hate about him. Again, in Timon: “&lblank; In our dear peril.” Again, in Twelfth Night: “Whom thou in terms so bloody and so dear “Hast made thine enemies.” Again, in K. Henry IV. P. 1. “&lblank; Which art my nearest and dearest enemy.” Again, in Any Thing for a quiet Life, 1662: “He was my nearest and dearest enemy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 404 8In my mind's eye.] This expression occurs again in our author's Rape of Lucrece: “&lblank; himself behind “Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind.” Ben Jonson has borrowed it in his Masque called Love's Triumph through Callipolis: “As only by the mind's eye may be seen.” Telemachus lamenting the absence of Ulysses, is represented in like manner: &GROs;&grs;&grs;&gro;&grm;&grea;&grn;&gro;&grst; &grp;&gra;&grt;&grea;&grr;&grap; &gres;&grs;&grq;&grl;&grog;&grn; &gres;&grn;&grig; &grf;&grr;&gre;&grs;&grig;&grn;, &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 405 9I shall not look upon like again.] Mr. Holt proposes to read from Sir—Samuel's emendation: “Eye shall not look upon his like again;” and thinks it is more in the true spirit of Shakespeare than the other. So, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 746: “In the greatest pomp that ever eye behelde.” Again, in Sandys's Travels, p. 150: “We went this day through the most pregnant and pleasant valley that ever eye beheld.” Steevens.

Note return to page 406 1Season your admiration &lblank;] That is, temper it. Johnson.

Note return to page 407 2Arm'd at all points,] Thus the folio. The quartos—armed at point. Steevens.

Note return to page 408 3&lblank; with the act of fear,] Shakespeare could never write so improperly as to call the passion of fear, the act of fear. Without doubt the true reading is, &lblank; with th' effect of fear. Warburton. Here is an affectation of subtilty without accuracy. Fear is every day considered as an agent. Fear laid hold on him; fear drove him away. If it were proper to be rigorous in examining trifles, it might be replied, that Shakespeare would write more erroneously, if he wrote by the direction of this critick; they were not distilled, whatever the word may mean, by the effect of fear; for that distillation was itself the effect; fear was the cause, the active cause, that distilled them by that force of operation which we strictly call act involuntary, and power in involuntary agents, but popularly call act in both. But of this too much. Johnson. The folio reads—bestil'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 409 4Let it be treble in your silence still:] If treble be right, in propriety it should be read, Let it be treble in your silence now: But the old quarto reads, Let it be Tenable in your silence still. And this is right. Warburton.

Note return to page 410 5The perfume, and suppliance of a minute:] Thus the quarto: the folio has it, &lblank; Sweet, not lasting, The suppliance of a minute. It is plain that perfume is necessary to exemplify the idea of sweet, not lasting. With the word suppliance I am not satisfied, and yet dare hardly offer what I imagine to be right. I suspect that soffiance, or some such word, formed from the Italian, was then used for the act of fumigating with sweet scents. Johnson. The perfume, and suppliance of a minute; i. e. what is supplied to us for a minute. The idea seems to be taken from the short duration of vegetable perfumes. Steevens.

Note return to page 411 6In thews,] i. e. in sinews, muscular strength. Steevens.

Note return to page 412 7And now no soil, nor cautel, &lblank;] From cautela, which signifies only a prudent foresight or caution; but, passing through French hands, it lost its innocence, and now signifies fraud, deceit. And so he uses the adjective in Julius Cæsar: Swear priests and cowards, and men cautelous, But I believe Shakespeare wrote, And now no soil of cautel &lblank; which the following words confirm: &lblank; doth besmirch The virtue of his will: &lblank; For by virtue is meant the simplicity of his will, not virtuous will: and both this and besmerch refer only to soil, and to the of craft and insincerity. Warburton. So, in the second part of Greene's Art of Coneycatching, 1592: “&lblank; and their subtill cautels to amend the statute.” To amend the statute was the cant phrase for evading the law. Steevens. Virtue seems here to comprise both excellence and power, and may be explained the pure effect. Johnson.

Note return to page 413 8The sanctity and the health of the whole state;] What has the sanctity of the state to do with the prince's disproportioned marriage? We should read with the old quarto safety. Warburton. Hanmer reads very rightly, sanity. Sanctity is elsewhere printed for sanity, in the old edition of this play. Johnson. Sanity and health may have the same meaning. I therefore read with all the quartos, The safety and the health, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 414 9&lblank; unmaster'd &lblank;] i. e. licentious. Johnson.

Note return to page 415 1&lblank; keep within the rear, &c.] That is, do not advance so far as your affection would lead you. Johnson.

Note return to page 416 2The chariest maid] Chary is cautious. So, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “Love requires not chastity, but that her soldiers be chary.” Again, “She liveth chastly enough, that liveth charily.” Steevens.

Note return to page 417 3Whilst, like a puft and careless libertine,] This reading gives us a sense to this effect, Do not you be like an ungracious preacher, who is like a careless libertine. And there we find, that he who is so like a careless libertine, is the careless libertine himself. This could not come from Shakespeare. The old quarto reads, Whiles a puft and reckless libertine, which directs us to the right reading, Whilst he, a puft and reckless libertine. The first impression of these plays being taken from the play-house copies, and those, for the better direction of the actors, being written as they were pronounced, these circumstances have occasioned innumerable errors. So a for he every where. &lblank; 'a was a goodly king, 'A was a man take him for all in all. &lblank; I warn't it will, for I warrant. This should be well attended to in correcting Shakespeare. Warburton. The emendation is not amiss, but the reason for it is very inconclusive: we use the same mode of speaking on many occasions. When I say of one, he squanders like a spendthrift, of another, he robbed me like a thief, the phrase produces no ambiguity; it is understood that the one is a spendthrift, and the other a thief. Johnson.

Note return to page 418 4&lblank; recks not his own read.] That is, heeds not his own lessons. Pope. So, in Hycke Scorner; “&lblank; I reck not a feder.” Ben Jonson uses the word reed in his Catiline: “So that thou couldst not move “Against a public reed.” Again, in Sir Tho. North's translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; Dispatch, I read you, for your enterprize is betray'd.” Again, in the old Morality of Hycke Scorner: “And of thy living, I reed amend thee.” So the Old Proverb in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “Take heed, is a good reed.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, book 5. chap. 27: “&lblank; and to his reed already bent.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1162

Note return to page 419 5&lblank; the shoulder of your sail,] This is a common sea phrase. Steevens.

Note return to page 420 6But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.] The literal sense is, Do not make thy palm callous by shaking every man by the hand. The figurative meaning may be, Do not by promiscuous conversation make thy mind insensible to the difference of characters. Johnson.

Note return to page 421 7&lblank; each man's censure,] Censure is opinion. So, in King Richard III:—To give your censures in this weighty business. Steevens.

Note return to page 422 8Are most select and generous, chief in that.] I think the whole design of the precept shews we should read, Are most select, and generous chief, in that. Chief is an adjective used adverbially, a practice common to our author. Chiefly generous. Yet it must be owned that the punctuation recommended is very stiff and harsh. Steevens.

Note return to page 423 9And it must follow, as the night the day.] The sense here requires, that the similitude should give an image not of two effects of different natures, that follow one another alternately, but of a cause and effect, where the effect follows the cause by a physical necessity. For the assertion is, Be true to thyself, and then thou must necessarily be true to others. Truth to himself then was the cause, truth to others the effect. To illustrate this necessity, the speaker employs a similitude: but no similitude can illustrate it, but what presents an image of a cause and effect: and such a cause as that, where the effect follows by a physical, not a moral necessity: for if only, by a moral necessity, the thing illustrating would not be more certain than the thing illustrated; which would be a great absurdity. This being premised, let us see what the text says, And it must follow, as the night the day. In this we are so far from being presented with an effect following a cause by a physical necessity, that there is no cause at all: but only two different effects, proceeding from two different causes, and succeeding one another alternately. Shakespeare, therefore, without question wrote, And it must follow, as the light the day. As much as to say, Truth to thyself, and truth to others, are inseparable, the latter depending necessarily on the former as light depends upon the day; where it is to be observed, that day is used figuratively for the sun. The ignorance of which, I suppose, contributed to mislead the editors. Warburton. And it must follow, as the night the day. This note is very acute, but the common succession of night to day was, I believe, all that our author meant to make Polonius think of, on the present occasion. So, in the 145th Sonnet of Shakespeare: “That follow'd it as gentle day “Doth follow night, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 424 1&lblank; my blessing season this in thee!] Season, for infuse. Warburton. It is more than to infuse, it is to infix it in such a manner as that it never may wear out. Johnson. So, in the mock tragedy represented before the king:   &lblank; who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy. Steevens.

Note return to page 425 2The time invites you: &lblank;] This reading is as old as the first folio; however, I suspect it to have been substituted by the players, who did not understand the term which possesses the elder quartos: The time invests you; i. e. besieges, presses upon you on every side. To invest a town, is the military phrase from which our author borrowed his metaphor. Theobald. Either reading may serve. Macbeth says, “I go, and it is done, the bell invites me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 426 3&lblank; your servants tend.] i. e. your servants are waiting for you. Johnson.

Note return to page 427 4&lblank; yourself shall keep the key of it.] That is, By thinking on you, I shall think on your lessons. Johnson. The meaning is, that your counsels are as sure of remaining locked up in my memory, as if you yourself carried the key of it. So, in North-ward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “You shall close it up like treasure of your own, and yourself shall keep the key of it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 428 5Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.] Unsifted, for untried. Untried signifies either not tempted, or not refined; unsifted, signifies the latter only, though the sense requires the former. Warburton.

Note return to page 429 6&lblank; Tender yourself more dearly; Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase) Wronging it thus, you'll tender me a fool.] The parenthesis is closed at the wrong place; and we must have likewise a slight correction in the last verse. Polonius is racking and playing on the word tender, till he thinks proper to correct himself for the licence; and then he would say—not farther to crack the wind of the phrase, by twisting and contorting it, as I have done. Warburton. I believe the word wronging has reference, not to the phrase, but to Ophelia; if you go on wronging it thus, that is, if you continue to go on thus wrong. This is a mode of speaking perhaps not very grammatical, but very common; nor have the best writers refused it. To sinner it or saint it, is in Pope. And Rowe, &lblank; Thus to coy it, To one who knows you too. The folio has it, &lblank; roaming it thus, &lblank; That is, letting yourself loose to such improper liberty. But wronging seems to be more proper. Johnson. “See you do not coy it,” is in Massinger's New way to pay old Debts. Mr. Rowe had read this author, and borrowed from him the plan of the Fair Penitent, though without the most trivial acknowledgement. Steevens.

Note return to page 430 7&lblank; fashion you may call it: &lblank;] She uses fashion for manner, and he for a transient practice. Johnson.

Note return to page 431 8&lblank; springes to catch woodcocks.] A proverbial saying. “Every woman has a springe to catch a woodcock.” Steevens.

Note return to page 432 9Set your entreatments] Entreatments here means company, conversation, from the French entrétien. Johnson.

Note return to page 433 1&lblank; larger tether &lblank;] A string to tie horses. Pope. Tether is that string by which an animal, set to graze in grounds uninclosed, is confined within the proper limits. Johnson. So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1601: “To tye the ape and the bear in one tedder.” Tether is a string by which any animal is fastened, whether for the sake of feeding or the air. Steevens.

Note return to page 434 2Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,] On which the editor Mr. Theobald remarks, Tho' all the editions have swallowed this reading implicitly, it is certainly corrupt; and I have been surprized how men of genius and learning could let it pass without some suspicion. What ideas can we frame to ourselves of a breathing bond, or of its being sanctified and pious, &c.? But he was too hasty in framing ideas before he understood those already framed by the poet, and expressed in very plain words. Do not believe (says Polonius to his daughter) Hamlet's amorous vows made to you; which pretend religion in them (the better to beguile) like those sanctified and pious vows [or bonds] made to heaven. And why should not this pass without suspicion? Warburton. Theobald for bonds substitutes bawds. Johnson.

Note return to page 435 3I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment's leisure,] The humour of this is fine. The speaker's character is all affectation. At last he says he will speak plain, and yet cannot for his life; his plain speech of slandering a moment's leisure being of the like fustian stuff with the rest. Warburton. Here is another fine passage, of which I take the beauty to be only imaginary. Polonius says, in plain terms, that is, not in language less elevated or embellished than before, but in terms that cannot be misunderstood: I would not have you so disgrace your most idle moments, as not to find better employment for them than lord Hamlet's conversation. Johnson.

Note return to page 436 4&lblank; takes his rouse,] A rouse is a large dose of liquor, a debauch. So, in Othello: “&lblank; they have given me a rouse already.” It should seem from the following passage in Decker's Guls Hornbook, 1609, that the word rouse was of Danish extraction. “Teach me, thou soveraigne skinker, how to take the German's upsy freeze, the Danish rousa, the Switzer's stoop of rhenish, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 437 5Keeps wassel,] See Macbeth, act I. Again, in the Hog hath lost his Pearl, 1614: “By Croesus name and by his castle, “Where winter nights he keepeth wassel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 438 6&lblank; the swagg'ring up-spring &lblank;] The blustering upstart. Johnson. It appears from the following passage in Alphonsus Emperor of Germany, by Chapman, that the up-spring was a German dance: “We Germans have no changes in our dances; “An almain and an up-spring, that is all.” Spring was anciently the name of a tune, so in B. and Fletcher's Prophetess: “&lblank; we will meet him, “And strike him such new springs &lblank;” The word is used by G. Douglas in his translation of Virgil, and, I think, by Chaucer. Again, in an old Scots proverb.—“Another would play a spring ere you tune your pipes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 439 7This heavy-headed revel, east and west,] i. e. This revelling that observes no hours, but continues from morning to night, &c. Warburton. I should not have suspected this passage of ambiguity or obscurity, had I not found my opinion of it differing from that of the learned critic. I construe it thus, This heavy-headed revel makes us traduced east and west, and taxed of other nations. Johnson.

Note return to page 440 8The pith and marrow of our attribute.] The best and most valuable part of the praise that would be otherwise attributed to us. Johnson.

Note return to page 441 9&lblank; complexion,] i. e. humour; as sanguine, melancholy, phlegmatic, &c. Warburton.

Note return to page 442 1&lblank; fortune's scar,] In the old quarto of 1637, it is &lblank; fortune's star: But I think scar is proper. Johnson. All the quartos read—star. Steevens.

Note return to page 443 2As infinite as man may undergo,] As large as can be accumulated upon man. Johnson.

Note return to page 444 3The dram of ease Doth all the noble substance of a doubt, To his own scandal.] I do not remember a passage throughout all our poet's works, more intricate and depraved in the text, of less meaning to outward appearance, or more likely to baffle the attempts of criticism in its aid. It is certain, there is neither sense nor grammar as it now stands: yet with a slight alteration, I'll endeavour to cure those defects, and give a sentiment too, that shall make the poet's thought close nobly. The dram of base (as I have corrected the text) means the least alloy of baseness or vice. It is very frequent with our poet to use the adjective of quality instead of the substantive signifying the thing. Besides, I have observed, that elsewhere, speaking of worth, he delights to consider it as a quality that adds weight to a person, and connects the word with that idea. Theobald.

Note return to page 445 4Doth all the noble substance of worth out,] Various conjectures have been employed about this passage. The author of The Revisal would read, “Doth all the noble substance oft eat out.” Or, “Doth all the noble substance soil with doubt.” Mr. Holt reads, “Doth all the noble substance oft adopt.” And Dr. Johnson thinks, that Theobald's reading may stand. I would read, Doth al the noble substance (i. e. the sum of good qualities) oft do out. Perhaps we should say, To its own scandal. His and its are perpetually confounded in the old copies. As I understand the passage, there is little difficulty in it. This is one of the low colloquial phrases which at present are neither employed in writing, nor perhaps are reconcileable to the propriety of language. To do a thing out, is to extinguish it, or to efface or obliterate any thing painted or written. In the first of these significations it is used by Drayton, in the 5th Canto of his Barons' Wars: “Was ta'en in battle, and his eyes out-done.” Steevens.

Note return to page 446 5Angels and ministers of grace defend us!] Hamlet's speech to the apparition of his father seems to me to consist of three parts. When first he sees the spectre, he fortifies himself with an invocation: Angels and ministers of grace defend us! As the spectre approaches, he deliberates with himself, and determines, that whatever it be he will venture to address it. Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee, &c. This he says while his father is advancing; he then, as he had determined, speaks to him, and calls him—Hamlet, King, Father, Royal Dane: oh! answer me. Johnson.

Note return to page 447 6Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, &c.] So in Acolastus his After-wit, 1600: “Art thou a god, a man, or else a ghost? “Com'st thou from heaven, where bliss and solace dwell? “Or from the airie cold-engendring coast? “Or from the darksome dungeon-hold of hell?” The first known edition of this play is in 1604. Steevens.

Note return to page 448 7&lblank; questionable shape,] By questionable is meant provoking question. Hanmer. So in Macbeth: Live you, or are you aught That man may question? Johnson. Questionable, I believe means only propitious to conversation, easy and willing to be conversed with. So in As you like it. “An unquestionable spirit, which you have not.” Unquestionable in this last instance certainly signifies unwilling to be talked to. Steevens. Questionable, I believe, only means capable of being conversed with. To question, certainly in our author's time signified to converse. So, in his Tarquin and Lucrece, 1593: “For after supper long he questioned With modest Lucrece &lblank;.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Out of our question wipe him.” Malone.

Note return to page 449 8&lblank; tell, Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their cearments?] Hamlet here speaks with wonder, that he who was dead should rise again and walk. But this, according to the vulgar superstition here followed, was no wonder. Their only wonder was, that one, who had the rites of sepulture performed to him, should walk; the want of which was supposed to be the reason of walking ghosts. Hamlet's wonder then should have been placed here: and so Shakespeare placed it, as we shall see presently. For hearsed is used figuratively, to signify reposited, therefore the place where should be designed: but death being no place, but a privation only, hearsed in death is nonsense. We should read, &lblank; tell, Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in earth, Have burst their cearments? It appears, for the two reasons given above, that earth is the true reading. It will further appear for these two other reasons. First, From the words, canoniz'd bones; by which is not meant (as one would imagine) a compliment for, made holy or sainted; but for bones to which the rites of sepulture have been performed; or which were buried according to the canon. For we are told he was murdered with all his sins fresh upon him, and therefore in no way to be sainted. But if this licentious use of the word canoniz'd be allowed, then earth must be the true reading, for inhuming bodies was one of the essential parts of sepulchral rites. Secondly, From the words, Have burst their cearments, which imply the preceding mention of inhuming, but no mention is made of it in the common reading. This enabled the Oxford editor to improve upon the emendation; so he reads, Why thy bones hears'd in canonized earth. I suppose for the sake of harmony, not of sense. For though the rites of sepulture performed canonizes the body buried; yet it does not canonize the earth in which it is laid, unless every funeral service be a new consecration. Warburton. It were too long to examine this note period by period, though almost every period seems to me to contain something reprehensible. The critic, in his zeal for change, writes with so little consideration, as to say, that Hamlet cannot call his father canonized, because we are told he was murdered with all his sins fresh upon him. He was not then told it, and had so little the power of knowing it, that he was to be told it by an apparition. The long succession of reasons upon reasons proves nothing, but what every reader discovers, that the king had been buried, which is implied by so many adjuncts of burial, that the direct mention of earth is not necessary. Hamlet, amazed at an apparition, which, though in all ages credited, has in all ages been considered as the most wonderful and most dreadful operation of supernatural agency, enquires of the spectre, in the most emphatic terms, why he breaks the order of nature, by returning from the dead; this be asks in a very confused circumlocution, confounding in his fright the soul and body. Why, says he, have thy bones, which with due ceremonies have been intombed in death, in the common state of departed mortals, burst the folds in which they were embalmed? Why has the tomb, in which we saw thee quietly laid, opened his mouth, that mouth which, by its weight and stability, seemed closed for ever? The whole sentence is this: Why dost thou appear, whom we know to be dead? Had the change of the word removed any obscurity, or added any beauty, it might have been worth a struggle; but either reading leaves the sense the same. If there be any asperity in this controversial note, it must be imputed to the contagion of peevishness, or some resentment of the incivility shewn to the Oxford editor, who is represented as supposing the ground canonized by a funeral, when he only meant to say, that the body was deposited in holy ground, in ground consecrated according to the canon. Johnson.

Note return to page 450 9&lblank; quietly in-urn'd.] The quartos read interr'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 451 1That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,] It is probable that Shakespeare introduced his ghost in armour, that it might appear more solemn by such a discrimination from the other characters; though it was really the custom of the Danish kings to be buried in that manner. Vide Olaus Wormius, cap. 7. “Struem regi nec vestibus, nec odoribus cumulant, sua cuique arma, quorundam igni et equus adjicitur.” “&lblank; sed postquam magnanimus ille Danorum rex collem sibi magnitudinis conspicuæ extruxisset (cui post obitum regio diademate exornatum, armis indutum, inferendum esset cadaver,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 452 2&lblank; us fools of nature] The expression is fine, as intimating we were only kept (as formerly, fools in a great family) to make sport for nature, who lay hid only to mock and laugh at us, for our vain searches into her mysteries. Warburton.

Note return to page 453 3&lblank; to shake our disposition] Disposition, for frame. Warburton.

Note return to page 454 4&lblank; pin's fee:] The value of a pin. Johnson.

Note return to page 455 5&lblank; deprive your sovereignty, &c.] Dr. Warburton would read deprave; but several proofs are given in the notes to King Lear of Shakespeare's use of the word deprive, which is the true reading. Steevens. I believe deprive in this place signifies simply to take away. Johnson.

Note return to page 456 6The very place] The four following lines added from the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 457 7&lblank; puts toys of desperation,] Toys, for whims. Warburton.

Note return to page 458 8&lblank; that lets me:] To let among our old authors signifies to prevent, to hinder. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1164

Note return to page 459 9Heaven will direct it;] Perhaps it may be more apposite to read “Heaven will detect it.” Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1165

Note return to page 460 1&lblank; confin'd to fast in fires,] We should read, &lblank; too fast in fires. i. e. very closely confined. The particle too is used frequently for the superlative most, or very. Warburton. I am rather inclined to read, confin'd to lasting fires, to fires unremitted and unconsumed. The change is slight. Johnson. Doom'd for a certain time to walk the night, And for the day confin'd to fast in fires. Chaucer has a similar passage with regard to the punishments of hell. Parson's Tale, p. 193. Mr. Urry's edition: “And moreover the misese of hell, shall be in defaute of mete and drinke.” Smith. Nash, in his Pierce Penniless's Supplication to the Devil, 1595, has the same idea: “Whether it be a place of horror, stench, and darkness, where men see meat, but can get none, and are ever thirsty, &c.” Before I had read the Persones Tale of Chaucer, I supposed that he meant rather to drop a stroke of satire on sacerdotal luxury, than to give a serious account of the place of future torment. Chaucer, however, is as grave as Shakespeare. So likewise at the conclusion of an ancient pamphlet called The Wyll of the Devyll, bl. l. no date: “Thou shalt lye in frost and fire   “With sicknesse and hunger; &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 461 2Are burnt and purg'd away. &lblank;] Gawin Douglas really changes the Platonic hell into the “punytion of Saulis in purgatory:” and it is observable, that when the ghost informs Hamlet of his doom there, “Till the foul crimes done in his days of nature “Are burnt and purg'd away, &lblank; the expression is very similar to the bishop's: I will give you his version as concisely as I can; “It is a nedeful thyng to suffer panis and torment—Sum in the wyndis, sum under the watter, and in the fire uthir sum: thus the mony vices— “Contrakkit in the corpis be done away “And purgit.” &lblank; Sixte Book of Eneados, fol. p. 191. Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1166

Note return to page 462 3&lblank; fretful porcupine:] The quartos read fearful porcupine. Either may serve. This animal is at once irascible and timid. The same image occurs in the Romant of the Rose, where Chaucer is describing the personage of danger: “Like sharpe urchons his heere was grow.” An urchin is a hedge-hog. Steevens.

Note return to page 463 4Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.] As a proof that this play was written before 1597, of which the contrary has been asserted by Mr. Holt in Dr. Johnson's appendix, I must borrow, as usual, from Dr. Farmer. “Shakespeare is said to have been no extraordinary actor; and that the top of his performance was the Ghost in his own Hamlet. Yet this chef d'oeuvre did not please: I will give you an original stroke at it. Dr. Lodge published in the year 1596 a pamphlet called Wit's Miserie, or the World's Madness, discovering the incarnate devils of the age, quarto. One of these devils is, Hate virtue, or sorrow for another man's good successe, who, says the doctor, is a foule lubber, and looks as pale as the vizard of the Ghost, which cried so miserably at the theatre, Hamlet revenge.” Steevens.

Note return to page 464 5As meditation or the thoughts of love,] This similitude is extremely beautiful. The word meditation is consecrated, by the mystics, to signify that stretch and flight of mind which aspires to the enjoyment of the supreme good. So that Hamlet, considering with what to compare the swiftness of his revenge, chooses two of the most rapid things in nature, the ardency of divine and human passion, in an enthusiast and a lover. Warburton. The comment on the word meditation is so ingenious, that I hope it is just. Johnson.

Note return to page 465 6And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe's wharf, &c.] Shakespeare, apparently through ignorance, makes Roman Catholicks of these Pagan Danes; and here gives a description of purgatory; but yet mixes it with the Pagan fable of Lethe's wharf. Whether he did it to insinuate to the zealous Protestants of his time, that the Pagan and Popish purgatory stood both upon the same footing of credibility, or whether it was by the same kind of licentious inadvertence that Michael Angelo brought Charon's bark into his picture of the Last Judgment, is not easy to decide. Warburton.

Note return to page 466 7That rots itself, &c.] The quarto reads—That roots itself. Mr. Pope follows it. Otway has the same thought: “&lblank; like a coarse and useless dunghill weed “Fix'd to one spot, and rot just as I grow.” The superiority of the reading of the folio is to me apparent: to be in a crescent state (i. e. to root itself) affords an idea of activity; to rot better suits with the dullness and inaction to which the Ghost refers. Nevertheless, the accusative case (itself) may seem to demand the verb roots. Steevens.

Note return to page 467 8&lblank; mine orchard,] Orchard for garden. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb.” Steevens.

Note return to page 468 9With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,] The word here used was more probably designed by a metathesis, either of the poet or transcriber, for henebon, that is, henbane; of which the most common kind (hyoscyamus niger) is certainly narcotic, and perhaps, if taken in a considerable quantity, might prove poisonous. Galen calls it cold in the third degree; by which in this, as well as opium, he seems not to mean an actual coldness, but the power it has of benumbing the faculties. Dioscorides ascribes to it the property of producing madness (&grn;&gro;&grs;&grk;&grua;&grk;&grm;&gro;&grst; &grm;&gra;&grn;&gri;&grwc;&grd;&grh;&grst; [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 469 for, &grn;&gro;&grs;&grk;&gru;&grk;&grm;&gro;&grst;, read, &grur;&gro;&grs;&grk;&gru;&gra;&grm;&gro;&grst;.

Note return to page 470 For, Heywood's Jew of Malta, read, Marlowe's:

Note return to page 471 1&lblank; at once dispatch'd:] Dispatch'd, for bereft. Warburton.

Note return to page 472 2Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, &c.] The very words of this part of the speech are taken (as I have been informed by a gentleman of undoubted veracity) from an old Legend of Saints, where a man, who was accidentally drowned, is introduced as making the same complaint. Steevens.

Note return to page 473 3Unhousel'd,] Without the sacrament being taken. Pope.

Note return to page 474 4Unanointed,] Without extreme unction. Pope.

Note return to page 475 5Unanel'd;] No knell rung. Pope. In other editions, Unhouzzled, unanointed, unaneal'd: The ghost, having recounted the process of his murder, proceeds to exaggerate the inhumanity and unnaturalness of the fact, from the circumstances in which he was surprized. But these, I find, have been stumbling blocks to our editors; and therefore I must amend and explain these three compound adjectives in their order. Instead of unhouzzel'd, we must restore, unhousel'd, i. e. without the sacrament taken; from the old Saxon word for the sacrament, housel. In the next place, unanointed is a sophistication of the text: the old copies concur in reading, disappointed. I correct, Unhousel'd, unappointed, &lblank; i. e. no confession of sins made, no reconciliation to heaven, no appointment of penance by the church. Unaneal'd I agree to be the poet's genuine word; but I must take the liberty to dispute Mr. Pope's explication of it, viz. no knell rung. The adjective formed from knell, must have been unknell'd, or unknoll'd. There is no rule in orthography for sinking the k in the deflection of any verb or compound formed from knell, and melting it into a vowel. What sense does unaneal'd then bear? Skinner, in his Lexicon of old and obsolete English terms, tells us, that aneal'd is unctus; from the Teutonic preposition an, and ole, i. e. oil: so that unaneal'd must consequently signify, unanointed, not having the extreme unction. The poet's reading and explication being ascertained, he very finely makes his ghost complain of these four dreadful hardships: that he had been dispatched out of life without receiving the hoste, or sacrament; without being reconcil'd to heaven and absolv'd; without the benefit of extreme unction; or without so much as a confession made of his sins. The having no knell rung, I think, is not a point of equal consequence to any of these; especially, if we consider, that the Romish church admits the efficacy of praying for the dead. Theobald. This is a very difficult line. I think Theobald's objection to the sense of unaneal'd, for notified by the bell, must be owned to be very strong. I have not yet by my enquiry satisfied myself. Hanmer's explication of unaneal'd by unprepar'd, because to anneal metals, is to prepare them in manufacture, is too general and vague; there is no resemblance between any funeral ceremony and the practice of annealing metals. Disappointed is the same as unappointed, and may be properly explained unprepared; a man well furnished with things necessary for any enterprize, was said to be well appointed. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation of the word disappointed may be countenanced by the advice which Isabella gives to her brother in Measure for Measure. “Therefore your best appointment make with speed.” The hope of gaining a worthless alliteration is all that can tempt an editor to prefer unappointed or unanointed to disappointed. Milton has the following lines, consisting of three words each, in which this childish practice is constantly observed. Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd. Par. Lost. B. 2. &lblank; unmov'd, Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrified. B. 5. Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreform'd. Par. Reg. B. 3. Again, in Daniel's Civil Wars, &c. B. 2. “Uncourted, unrespected, unobey'd.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, B. 2. C. 10. “Unpeopled, unmanur'd, unprov'd, unprais'd.” In the Textus Rossensis we meet with two of these words— “The monks offering themselves to perform all priestly functions of houseling and aveyling.” Aveyling, I believe, is misprinted for aneyling. Steevens. See Mort d' Arthur, p. iii. c. 175. “So when he was houseled and aneled, and had all that a Christian man ought to have, &c.” Tyrwhitt. The subsequent extract from a very scarce and curious copy of Fabian's Chronicle, printed by Pynson, 1516, seems to remove every possibility of doubt concerning the true signification of the words unhousel'd and unanel'd. The historian, speaking of Pope Innocent's having laid the whole kingdom of England under an interdict, has these words: “Of the maner of this interdiction of this lande have I seen dyverse opynyons, as some ther be that saye that the lande was enterdyted thorowly and the churchis and housys of relygyon closyd, that no where was used masse, nor dyvyne servyce, by whiche reason none of the VII sacramentis all this terme should be mynystred or occupyed, nor chyld crystened, nor man confessed nor marryed; but it was not so strayght. For there were dyverse placys in Englond, whiche were occupyed with dyvyne servyce all that season by lycence purchased than or before, also chyldren were crystenyd thoroughe all the lande and men houselyd and anelyd.” Fol. 14. Septima Pars Johannis. The Anglo-Saxon noun-substantives husel (the eucharist) and ele (oil) are plainly the roots of these last-quoted compound adjectives—For the meaning of the affix an to the last, I quote Spelman's Gloss. in Loco. “Quin et dictionibus (an) adjungitur, siquidem vel majoris notationis gratia, vel ad singulare aliquid, vel unicum demonstrandum.” Hence anelyd should seem to signify oilea or anointed by way of eminence, i. e. having received extreme unction. For the confirmation of the sense given here there is the strongest internal evidence in the passage. The historian is speaking of the VII sacraments, and he expressly names five of them, viz. baptism, marriage, auricular confession, the eucharist, and extreme unction. The antiquary is desired to consult the edition of Fabian, printed by Pynson, 1516, because there are others, and I remember to have seen one in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, with a continuation to the end of Queen Mary, London, 1559, in which the language is much modernized. Newscastle upon Tyne. J. B. This note is taken from the St. James's Chronicle. Steevens.

Note return to page 476 6O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!] It was ingeniously hinted to me by a very learned lady, that this line seems to belong to Hamlet, in whose mouth it is a proper and natural exclamation; and who, according to the practice of the stage, may be supposed to interrupt so long a speech. Johnson.

Note return to page 477 7A couch for luxury &lblank;] i. e. for lewdness. So, in K. Lear: To't luxury pell-mell for, &c. Again, in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1607, where the old duke, who is remarkable for his incontinence, is repeatedly called &lblank; a parch'd and juiceless luxur. Steevens.

Note return to page 478 8&lblank; uneffectual fire.] i. e. shining without heat. Warburton. To pale is a verb used by Lady Elizabeth Carew, in her Tragedy of Mariam, 1613: “&lblank; Death can pale as well “A cheek of roses as a cheek less bright.” Again, in Urry's Chaucer, p. 368: “The sterre paleth her white cheres by the flambes of the sonne, &c.” Uneffectual fire, I believe, rather means, fire that is no longer seen when the light of morning approaches. So, in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “&lblank; like a glow worm, &lblank; “The which hath fire in darkness, none in light.” Steevens.

Note return to page 479 9Adieu, adieu, adieu! &c.] The folio reads: Adieu, adieu, Hamlet: remember me. Steevens.

Note return to page 480 1&lblank; this distracted globe.] i. e. in this head confused with thought. Steevens.

Note return to page 481 2My tables, &lblank; meet it is I set it down,] This is a ridicule of the practice of the time. Hall says, in his character of the Hypocrite, “He will ever sit where he may be seene best, and in the midst of the sermon pulles out his tables in haste, as if he feared to loose that note, &c.” Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1168 So, in the induction to Webster's Malecontent, 1604: “I tell you I am one that hath seen this play often, and can give them intelligence for their action: I have most of the jests of it here in my table-book.” Again, in Love's Sacrifice, 1633:   “You are one loves courtship: “He had some change of words; 'twere no lost labour “To stuff your table-books.” Again, in Antonio's Revenge, 1602: “Balurdo draws out his writing-tables and writes.” “Retort and obtuse, good words, very good words.” Again, in Every Woman in her Humour, 1609: “Let your tables befriend your memory; write &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 482 3&lblank; now to my word;] Hamlet alludes to the watch-word given every day in military service, which at this time he says is, Adieu, Adieu, remember me. So, in The Devil's Charter, a tragedy, 1607: “Now to my watch-word.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 483 4&lblank; come, bird, come.] This is the call which falconers use to their hawk in the air when they would have him come down to them. Hanmer. This expression is used in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, and by many others among the old dramatic writers. It appears from all these passages, that it was the falconer's call, as Hanmer has observed. Steevens.

Note return to page 484 5There needs no ghost, &c.] The piece of humour is repeated by our author in Timon, &c. Act 5. Sc. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 485 6&lblank; by St. Patrick, &lblank;] How the poet comes to make Hamlet swear by St. Patrick, I know not. However, at this time all the whole northern world had their learning from Ireland; to which place it had retired, and there flourished under the auspices of this Saint. But it was, I suppose, only said at random; for he makes Hamlet a student of Wittenberg. Warburton. Dean Swift's “Verses on the sudden drying-up of St. Patrick's “Well, 1726,” contain many learned allusions to the early cultivation of literature in Ireland. Nichols.

Note return to page 486 7&lblank; true-penny.] This word, as well as some of Hamlet's former exclamations, we find in the Malecontent, 1604: “Illo, ho, ho, ho; art there old True-penny?” Steevens.

Note return to page 487 8Swear by my sword.] Here the poet has preserved the manners of the ancient Danes, with whom it was religion to swear upon their swords. See Bartholinus, De causis contempt. mort. apud Dan. Warburton. I was once inclinable to this opinion, which is likewise well defended by Mr. Upton; but Mr. Garrick produced me a passage, I think, in Brantôme, from which it appeared, that it was common to swear upon the sword, that is, upon the cross which the old swords always had upon the hilt. Johnson. Shakespeare, it is more than probable, knew nothing of the ancient Danes, or their manners. Every extract from Dr. Farmer's pamphlet must prove as instructive to the reader as the following: “In the Passus Primus of Pierce Plowman, “David in his daies dubbed knightes, “And did them swere on her sword to serve truth ever.” “And in Hieronymo, the common butt of our author, and the wits of the time, says Lorenzo to Pedringano: &lblank; “Swear on this cross, that what thou say'st is true, “But if I prove thee perjur'd and unjust, “This very sword, whereon thou took'st thine oath, “Shall be a worker of thy tragedy.” To the authorities produced by Dr. Farmer, the following may be added from Holinshed, p. 664: “Warwick kissed the cross of K. Edward's sword, as it were a vow to his promise.” Again, p. 1038. it is said, “that Warwick drew out his sword, which other of the honourable and worshipful that were then present likewise did, whom he commanded, that each one should kiss other's sword, according to an ancient custom amongst men of war in time of great danger; and herewith they made a solemn vow,” &c. Again, in Green's Tu quoque: “By the cross of these hiltes.” Again, in Decker's comedy of Old Fortunatus, 1600: “He has sworn to me on the cross of his pure Toledo.” Again, in the Second Part of The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “&lblank; by the cross of my good blade, “An excellent mother to bring up a maid.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “By the cross of this sword and dagger, captain, you shall take it.” In the soliloquy of Roland addressed to his sword, the cross on it is not forgotten: “&lblank; capulo eburneo candidissime, cruce aurea splendidissime, &c.” Turpini Hist. de Gestis Caroli Mag. cap. 22. Steevens.

Note return to page 488 9And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.] i. e. receive it to yourself; take it under your own roof; as much as to say, Keep it secret. Alluding to the laws of hospitality. Warburton.

Note return to page 489 1&lblank; denote.] The old copies concur in reading to note. The alteration, which seems necessary, is Theobald's. Steevens. If we read “Nor by pronouncing,” the passage as it stands in the folio, though embarrassed, is still intelligible, provided the punctuation be changed. That you, at such time seeing me, never shall With arms encumber'd thus, or thus, head shake; Nor by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, As, well, we know, or, we could and if we would, Or, if we lift to speake; or, there be and if there might, Or such ambiguous giving out, to note That you know aught of me; this not to do (So grace and mercy at your most need help you!) Swear. Malone.

Note return to page 490 2&lblank; this do you swear, &c.] The folio reads, this not to do. Steevens.

Note return to page 491 3The quartos read, Enter old Polonius with his man or two. Steevens.

Note return to page 492 4Danskers] Danske (in Warner's Albions England) is the ancient name of Denmark. Steevens.

Note return to page 493 5&lblank; drinking, [fencing,] swearing,] Fencing, an interpolation. Warburton. How fencing can be an interpolation, I know not. I find it in all the old copies. Steevens. I suppose, by fencing is meant a too diligent frequentation of the fencing-school, a resort of violent and lawless young men. Johnson.

Note return to page 494 6&lblank; another &lblank;] Thus the old editions. Theobald reads, an utter. Johnson.

Note return to page 495 7A savageness &lblank;] Savageness, for wildness. Warburton.

Note return to page 496 8Of general assault.] i. e such as youth in general is liable to. Warburton.

Note return to page 497 9And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant:] So the folio. The quarto reads,—a fetch of wit. Steevens.

Note return to page 498 1&lblank; prenominate crimes.] i. e. crimes already named. Steevens.

Note return to page 499 2Good sir, or so, or friend, &c.] We should read, &lblank; or sire, i. e. father. Warburton. I know not that fire was ever a general word of compliment, as distinct from sir; nor do I conceive why any alteration should be made. It is a common mode of colloquial language to use, or so, as a slight intimation of more of the same, or a like kind, that might be mentioned. We might read, but we need not, Good, sir, forsooth, or friend, or gentleman. Forsooth, a term of which I do not well know the original meaning, was used to men as well as to women. Johnson. Good sir, or so, &c. Dr. Johnson would read—Good sir, forsooth, &c. Forsooth, which has been sometimes supposed to be a form of address, and, since its proper meaning has been forgot, may perhaps have been sometimes so applied by vulgar ignorant people, originally had no such signification. It was a more inforcing of an asseveration. Sooth is truth, and insooth or forsooth signify originally and properly only in truth and for truth. In Shakespeare's time the proper sense was not left out of use; and therefore I think he could hardly have inserted forsooth in the text, as a form of address. Percy. I believe we should read, Good sir, or so forth, friend or gentleman; So, in Humor's Ordinarie, a collection of ancient satires, no date: “Then tells him, brother, friend, or so forth, heare ye.” In the Winter's Tale, the same expression occurs. Act I. “Sicilia is a so forth.” Nay, Polonius uses it again a little further on in this very speech. Steevens. We might read Good sir, or sir, &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 500 3&lblank; in yourself.] Hanmer reads, e'en yourself, and is followed by Dr. Warburton; but perhaps in yourself means, in your own person, not by spies. Johnson.

Note return to page 501 4&lblank; his stockings foul'd, Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his angle,] I have restored the reading of the elder quartos—his stockings loose.—The change, I suspect, was first from the players, who saw a contradiction in his stockings being loose, and yet shackled down at ancle. But they, in their ignorance, blundered away our author's word, because they did not understand it: Ungarter'd, and down-gyred, i. e. turned down. So, the oldest copies; and, so his stockings were properly loose, as they were ungarter'd and rowl'd down to the ancle. Theobald. Theobald is unfaithful in his account of this elder quarto. I have all the quartos and the folios before me, and they concur in reading: &lblank; his stockings foul'd. I believe gyred to be nothing more than a false print. Down-gyved means hanging down like the loose cincture which confines the fetters round the ancles. Gyve always signifies a circle formed by a top, or any other body when put into motion. It is so used by Drayton in the Black Prince's letter to Alice countess of Salisbury: “In little circlets first it doth arise, “Then somewhat larger seemeth in mine eyes; “And in this gyring compass as it goes, “So more and more my love in greatness grows.” Again, in the Second Part of Heywood's Iron Age, 1632: “&lblank; this bright and flaming brand “Which I so often gyre about mine ears.” Again, in Lingua, &c. 1607: “First I beheld him hovering in the air, “And then down stooping with a hundred gires, &c.” Again, in Barten Holyday's Poem, called the Woes of Esay: “His chariot-wheels wrapt in the whirlwind's gyre, “His horses hoof'd with flint, and shod with fire.” Steevens.

Note return to page 502 5&lblank; foredoes itself.] To foredo is to destroy. So, in Othello: “That either makes me, or foredoes me quite.” Steevens.

Note return to page 503 6I had not quoted him: &lblank;] The old quarto reads coted. It appears Shakespeare wrote noted. Quoted is nonsense. Warburton. To quote is, I believe, to reckon, to take an account of, to take the quotient or result of a computation. Johnson. Since I proposed a former explanation, I met with a passage in the Isle of Gulls, a comedy, by John Day, 1633, which proves Dr. Johnson's sense of the word to be not far from the true one: &lblank; “'twill be a scene of mirth “For me to quote his passions, and his smiles.” To quote on this occasion undoubtedly means to observe. Again, in Drayton's Mooncalf: “This honest man the prophecy that noted, “And things therein most curiously had quoted; “Found all these signs, &c.” Again, in The Woman Hater, by B. and Fletcher, the Intelligencer says—“I'll quote him to a tittle.” i. e. I will observe him. Again, in Certaine Satyres, 1598: “But must our moderne crittick's envious eye, “Seeme thus to quote some grosse deformity?” Steevens.

Note return to page 504 7&lblank; it is a proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion. &lblank;] This is not the remark of a weak man. The vice of age is too much suspicion. Men long accustomed to the wiles of life cast commonly beyond themselves, let their cunning go further than reason can attend it. This is always the fault of a little mind, made artful by long commerce with the world. Johnson. The quartos read—By heaven it is as proper &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 505 8This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide, than hate to utter love.] i. e. This must be made known to the king, for (being kept secret) the hiding Hamlet's love might occasion more mischief to us from him and the queen, than the uttering or revealing of it will occasion hate and resentment from Hamlet. The poet's ill and obscure expression seems to have been caused by his affectation of concluding the scene with a couplet. Hanmer reads, More grief to hide hate, than to utter love. Johnson.

Note return to page 506 9&lblank; and humour.] Thus the folio. The quartos read, haviour. Steevens.

Note return to page 507 1Whether aught, &c.] This line is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 508 2To shew us so much gentry &lblank;] Gentry, for complaisance. Warburton.

Note return to page 509 3For the supply, &c.] That the hope which your arrival has raised may be completed by the desired effect. Johnson.

Note return to page 510 4&lblank; in the full bent,] Bent, for endeavour, application. Warburton. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1169

Note return to page 511 4&lblank; the trail of policy &lblank;] The trail is the course of an animal pursued by the scent. Johnson.

Note return to page 512 5&lblank; the fruit &lblank;] The desert after the meat. Johnson.

Note return to page 513 6&lblank; borne in hand, &lblank;] i. e. deceived, imposed on. So, in Macbeth, Act 3: “How you were borne in hand, how crost, &c.” See a note on this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 514 7Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;] This reading first obtained in the edition put out by the players. But all the old quartos (from 1605, downwards) read as I have reformed the text. Theobald.

Note return to page 515 8&lblank; annual fee.] Fee in this place signifies reward, recompence. So, in All's well that ends well: “&lblank; Not helping, death's my fee; “But if I help, what do you promise me?” The word is commonly used in Scotland for wages, as we say lawyer's fee, physician's fee. Steevens.

Note return to page 516 9&lblank; at night we'll feast &lblank;] The king's intemperance is never suffered to be forgotten. Johnson.

Note return to page 517 1My liege, and madam, to expostulate] The strokes of humour in this speech are admirable. Polonius's character is that of a weak, pedant, minister of state. His declamation is a fine satire on the impertinent oratory then in vogue, which placed reason in the formality of method, and wit in the gingle and play of words. With what art is he made to pride himself in his wit: That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true, 'tis pity; And pity 'tis, 'tis true: A foolish figure, But farewel it &lblank; And how exquisitely does the poet ridicule the reasoning in fashion, where he makes Polonius remark on Hamlet's madness: Though this be madness, yet there's method in't: As if method, which the wits of that age thought the most essential quality of a good discourse, would make amends for the madness. It was madness indeed, yet Polonius could comfort himself with this reflection, that at least it was method. It is certain Shakespeare excels in nothing more than in the preservation of his characters; To this life and variety of character (says our great poet in his admirable preface to Shakespeare) we must add the wonderful preservation. We have said what is the character of Polonius; and it is allowed on all hands to be drawn with wonderful life and spirit, yet the unity of it has been thought by some to be grossly violated in the excellent precepts and instructions which Shakespeare makes his statesman give to his son and servant in the middle of the first, and beginning of the second act. But I will venture to say, these critics have not entered into the poet's art and address in this particular. He had a mind to ornament his scenes with those fine lessons of social life; but his Polonius was too weak to be author of them, though he was pedant enough to have met with them in his reading, and fop enough to get them by heart, and retail them for his own. And this the poet has finely shewn us was the case, where, in the middle of Polonius's instructions to his servant, he makes him, though without having received any interruption, forget his lesson, and say, And then, sir, does he this; He does—What was I about to say? I was about to say something—where did I leave? The servant replies, At, closes in the consequence. This sets Polonius right, and he goes on, At, closes in the consequence. &lblank; Ay marry, He closes thus:—I know the gentleman, &c. which shews they were words got by heart which he was repeating. Otherwise closes in the consequence, which conveys no particular idea of the subject he was upon, could never have made him recollect where he broke off. This is an extraordinary instance of the poet's art, and attention to the preservation of character. Warburton. This account of the character of Polonius, though it sufficiently reconciles the seeming inconsistency of so much wisdom with so much folly, does not perhaps correspond exactly to the ideas of our author. The commentator makes the character of Polonius, a character only of manners, discriminated by properties superficial, accidental, and acquired. The poet intended a nobler delineation of a mixed character of manners and of nature. Polonius is a man bred in courts, exercised in business, stored with observation, confident of his knowledge, proud of his eloquence, and declining into dotage. His mode of oratory is truly represented as designed to ridicule the practice of those times, of prefaces that made no introduction, and of method that embarrassed rather than explained. This part of his character is accidental, the rest is natural. Such a man is positive and confident, because he knows that his mind was once strong, and knows not that it is become weak. Such a man excels in general principles, but fails in the particular application. He is knowing in retrospect, and ignorant in foresight. While he depends upon his memory, and can draw from his repositories of knowledge, he utters weighty sentences, and gives useful counsel; but as the mind in its enfeebled state cannot be kept long busy and intent, the old man is subject to sudden dereliction of his faculties, he loses the order of his ideas, and entangles himself in his own thoughts, till he recovers the leading principle, and falls again into his former train. This idea of dotage encroaching upon wisdom, will solve all the phænomena of the character of Polonius. Johnson.

Note return to page 518 2&lblank;to expostulate] To exposulate, for to enquire or discuss. Warburton.

Note return to page 519 3To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia &lblank;] I have ventured at an emendation here, against the authority of all the copies; but, I hope, upon examination, it will appear probable and reasonable. The word beautified may carry two distinct ideas, either as applied to a woman made-up of artificial beauties, or to one rich in native charms. As Shakespeare has therefore chose to use it in the latter acceptation, to express natural comeliness; I cannot imagine, that here he would make Polonius except to the phrase, and call it a vile one. But a stronger objection still, in my mind, lies against it. As celestial and soul's idol are the introductory characteristics of Ophelia, what a dreadful anticlimax is it to descend to such an epithet as beautified? On the other hand, beatified, as I have conjectured, raises the image: but Polonius might very well, as a Roman Catholic, call it a vile phrase, i. e. favouring of profanation; since the epithet is peculiarly made an adjunct to the Virgin Mary's honour, and therefore ought not to be employed in the praise of a mere mortal. Theobald. Dr. Warburton has followed Theobald; but I am in doubt whether beautified, though, as Polonius calls it, a vile phrase, be not the proper word. Beautified seems to be a vile phrase, for the ambiguity of its meaning. Johnson. The most beautified Ophelia.] Heyward, in his History of Edward VI, says, “Katherine Parre, queen dowager to king Henry VIII, was a woman beautified with many excellent virtues.” Farmer. So, in The Hog hath lost his Pearl, 1614: “A maid of rich endowments, beautified “With all the virtues nature could bestow.” Again, Nash dedicates his Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, 15—. “to the most beautified lady the lady Elizabeth Carey.” Again, in Greene's Mamillia, 1593: “&lblank; although thy person is so bravely beautified with the dowries of nature.” Ill and vile as the phrase may be, our author has used it again in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: &lblank; seeing you are beautified With good shape, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 520 4These to her excellent white bosom,] So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: Thy letters &lblank; Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love. See a note on this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 521 5&lblank; O most best &lblank;] So, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “&lblank; that same most best redresser or reformer, is God.” Steevens.

Note return to page 522 6&lblank; more above, &lblank;] is, moreover, besides. Johnson.

Note return to page 523 7If I had play'd the desk or table-book; Or giv'n my heart a working, mute and dumb; Or look'd upon this love with idle fight; What might you think? &lblank;] i. e. If either I had conveyed intelligence between them, and been the confident of their amours [play'd the desk or table-book], 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 [looked upon this love with idle sight]; what would you have thought of me? Warburton.

Note return to page 524 8Or given my heart a working, &lblank;] The folio reads a winking. Steevens.

Note return to page 525 9Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere,] All princes were alike out of her sphere. I give it thus: Lord Hamlet is a prince:—out of thy sphere. Two of the quartos, and the first folio, read star. Steevens.

Note return to page 526 1&lblank; precepts gave her.] Thus the folio. The two elder quartos read, prescripts. Steevens.

Note return to page 527 2Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; And he, repulsed &lblank;] The fruits of advice are the effects of advice. But how could she be said to take them? The reading is corrupt. Shakespeare wrote, Which done, see too the fruits of my advice; For, he repulsed &lblank; Warburton. She took the fruits of advice when she obeyed advice, the advice was then made fruitful. Johnson.

Note return to page 528 3&lblank; a short tale to make, Fell into a sadness; then into a fast, &c.] The ridicule of this character is here admirably sustained. He would not only be thought to have discovered this intrigue by his own sagacity, but to have remarked all the stages of Hamlet's disorder, from his sadness to his raving, as regularly as his physician could have done; when all the while the madness was only feigned. The humour of this is exquisite from a man who tells us, with a confidence peculiar to small politicians, that he could find Where truth was hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre. Warburton.

Note return to page 529 4&lblank; four hours together,] Perhaps it would be better were we to read indefinitely, &lblank; for hours together. Tyrwhitt. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1170

Note return to page 530 5For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a good kissing carrion— Have you a daughter?] The editors seeing Hamlet counterfeit madness, thought they might safely put any nonsense into his mouth. But this strange passage, when set right, will be seen to contain as great and sublime a reflection as any the poet puts into his hero's mouth throughout the whole play. We shall first give the true reading, which is this; For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a god, kissing carrion &lblank; As to the sense we may observe, that the illative particle [for] shews the speaker to be reasoning from something he had said before: what that was we learn in these words, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one picked out of ten thousand. Having said this, the chain of ideas led him to reflect upon the argument which libertines bring against Providence from the circumstance of abounding evil. In the next speech therefore he endeavours to answer that objection, and vindicate Providence, even on a supposition of the fact, that almost all men were wicked. His argument in the two lines in question is to this purpose, But why need we wonder at this abounding of evil? For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, which though a god, yet shedding its heat and influence upon carrion—Here he stops short, lest talking too consequentially the hearer should suspect his madness to be feigned; and so turns him off from the subject, by enquiring of his daughter. But the inference which he intended to make, was a very noble one, and to this purpose. If this (says he) be the case, that the effect follows the thing operated upon [carrion] and not the thing operating [a god;] why need we wonder, that the supreme cause of all things diffusing its blessings on mankind, who is, as it were, a dead carrion, dead in original sin, man, instead of a proper return of duty, should breed only corruption and vices? This is the argument at length; and is as noble a one in behalf of Providence as could come from the schools of divinity. But this wonderful man had an art not only of acquainting the audience with what his actors say, but with what they think. The sentiment too is altogether in character, for Hamlet is perpetually moralizing, and his circumstances makes this reflection very natural. The same thought, something diversified, as on a different occasion, he uses again in Measure for Measure, which will serve to confirm these observations: The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Not she; nor doth she tempt; but it is I That lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt by virtuous season. &lblank; And the same kind of expression is in Cymbeline, Common-kissing Titan. Warburton. This is a noble emendation, which almost sets the critic on a level with the author. Johnson.

Note return to page 531 6&lblank; conception is a blessing; &c.] Thus the folio. The quartos read thus: &lblank; conception is a blessing; But as your daughter may conceive, friend, look to't. The meaning seems to be, conception (i. e. understanding) is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive (i. e. be pregnant), friend look to't, i. e. have a care of that. The same quibble occurs in the first scene of K. Lear: “Kent. I cannot conceive you, sir. “Glo. Sir, this young fellow's mother could.” Steevens.

Note return to page 532 7Slanders, sir: for the satirical slave says here, that old men, &c.] By the satirical slave he means Juvenal in his tenth satire: Da spatium vitæ, multos da Jupiter annos: Hoc recto vultu, solum hoc et pallidus optas. Sed quàm continuis et quantis longa senectus Plena malis! deformem, et tetrum ante omnia vultum, Dissimilemque sui, &c. Nothing could be finer imagined for Hamlet, in his circumstances, than the bringing him in reading a description of the evils of long life. Warburton. Had Shakespeare read Juvenal in the original, he had met with “De temone Britanno, Excidet Arviragus”— and &lblank; “Uxorem, Posthume, ducis?” We should not then have had continually in Cymbeline, Arvir&abar;gus and Posth&ubar;mus. Should it be said that the quantity in the former word might be forgotten, it is clear from the mistake in the latter, that Shakespeare could not possibly have read any one of the Roman poets. There was a translation of the 10th satire of Juvenal by Sir John Beaumont, the elder brother of the famous Francis: but I cannot tell whether it was printed in Shakespeare's time. In that age of quotation, every classic might be picked up by piece-meal. I forgot to mention in its proper place, that another decription of Old Age in As you like it, has been called a parody on a passage in a French poem of Garnier. It is trifling to say any thing about this, after the observation I made in Macbeth: but one may remark once for all, that Shakespeare wrote for the people; and could not have been so absurd to bring forward any allusion, which had not been familiarized by some accident or other. Farmer.

Note return to page 533 8How pregnant &c.] Pregnant is ready, dexterous, apt. Steevens.

Note return to page 534 9And suddenly &c.] This, and the greatest part of the two following lines, are omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 535 1[Let me &c.] All within the crotchets, is wanting in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 536 2&lblank; the shadow of a dream.] Shakespeare has accidentally inverted an expression of Pindar, that the state of humanity is &grs;&grk;&gri;&grag;&grst; &grosa;&grn;&gra;&grr;, the dream of a shadow. Johnson. So Davies, “Man's life is but a dreame, nay, less than so, “A shadow of a dreame.” Farmer. So, in the tragedy of Darius 1603, by Lord Sterline: “Whose best was but the shadow of a dream.” Steevens.

Note return to page 537 3Then are our beggars, bodies; &lblank;] Shakespeare seems here to design a ridicule of these declamations against wealth and greatness, that seem to make happiness consist in poverty. Johnson.

Note return to page 538 4Nay, then I have an eye of you: &lblank;] An eye of you means, I have a glimpse of your meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 539 5I have of late, &c.] This is an admirable description of a rooted melancholy sprung from thickness of blood; and artfully imagined to hide the true cause of his disorder from the penetration of these two friends, who were set over him as spies. Warburton.

Note return to page 540 6&lblank; this brave over-hanging firmament,] Thus the quarto. The folio reads,—this brave o'er-hanging, this &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 541 7&lblank; lenten entertainment] i.e. sparing, like the entertainments given in Lent. So, in the Duke's Mistress, by Shirly, 1631: “&lblank; to maintain you with bisket, “Poor John, and half a livery, to read moral virtue “And lenten lectures.” Steevens.

Note return to page 542 8We coted them on the way, &lblank;] To cote is to overtake. I meet with this word in The Return from Parnassus, a comedy, 1606: “&lblank; marry we presently coted and outstript them.” I have observed the same verb to be used in several more of the old plays. So, in the Second Part of Marston's Antonio and Mellida, 1602: “&lblank; quick observation scud “To cote the plot.” &lblank; Again, in our author's K. Henry VI. P. III: “Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, “Will cote my crown.” Again, in the 23d Song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “Which dog first turns the hare, which first the other coats.” i. e. outstrips the other in the course. Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602, book 6 chap. 30: “Was of the gods and goddesses for wantonness out-coted.” Again, in Drant's translation of Horace's satires, 1567: “For he that thinks to coat all men, and all to overgoe.” Chapman has more than once used the word in his version of the 23d Iliad. In the laws of coursing, says Mr. Tollet, “a cote is when a greyhound goes endways by the side of his fellow, and gives the hare a turn.” This quotation seems to point out the etymology of the verb to be from the French coté, the side. Steevens.

Note return to page 543 9&lblank; shall end his part in peace:] After these words the folio adds, the clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickled o' th' sere. Warburton. This passage I have omitted, for the same reason, I suppose, as the other editors: I do not understand it. Johnson. The clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickled o' th' sere, i. e. those who are asthmatical, and to whom laughter is most uneasy. This is the case (as I am told) with those whose lungs are tickled by the sere or serum: but about this passage I am neither very confident, not very solicitous. The word seare occurs as unintelligibly in an ancient Dialogue betweene the Comen Secretary and Jelowsy, touchynge the unstableness of harlottes, bl. l. no date: “And wyll byde whysperynge in the eare, “Thynke ye her tayle is not lyght of the seare.” The sere is likewise a part about a hawk. Steevens.

Note return to page 544 1&lblank; the lady shall, &c.] The lady shall have no obstruction, unless from the lameness of the verse. Johnson.

Note return to page 545 1I think, their inhibition &lblank;] I fancy this is transposed: Hamlet enquires not about an inhibition, but an innovation; the answer therefore probably was, I think, their innovation, that is, their new practice of strolling, comes by means of the late inhibition. Johnson. The drift of Hamlet's question appears to be this.—How chances it they travel?—i. e. How happens it that they are become strollers?—Their residence, both in reputation and profit, was better both ways.—i. e. to have remained in a settled theatre, was the more honourable as well as the more lucrative situation. To this, Rosencrantz replies—Their inhibition comes by means of the late innovation. —i. e. their permission to act any longer at an established house is taken away, in consequence of the new custom of introducing personal abuse into their comedies. Several companies of actors in the time of our author were silenced on account of this licentious practice. See a dialogue between Comedy and Envy at the conclusion of Mucedorus, 1598, as well as the Preludium to Aristippus, or the Jovial Philosopher, 1630, from whence the following passage is taken: “Shews having been long intermitted and forbidden by authority, for their abuses, could not be raised but by conjuring.” Shew enters, whipped by two furies, and the prologue says to her: “&lblank; with tears wash off that guilty sin, “Purge out those ill-digested dregs of wit, “That use their ink to blot a spotless name: “Let's have no one particular man traduc'd &lblank; “&lblank; spare the persons &c.” Alteration therefore in the order of the words seems to be quite unnecessary. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1172

Note return to page 546 2The lines enclosed in crotches are in the folio of 1623, but not in the quarto of 1637, nor, I suppose, in any of the quartos. Johnson.

Note return to page 547 3&lblank; an Aiery of children, &c.] Relating to the play-houses then contending, the Bankside, the Fortune, &c. played by the children of his majesty's chapel. Pope. It relates to the young singing men of St. Paul's, concerning whose performances and success in attracting the best company, I find the following passage in Jack Drum's Entertainment, or Pasquil and Katherine, 1601: “I saw the children of Powles last night; “And troth they pleas'd me pretty, pretty well, “The apes, in time, will do it handsomely. &lblank; “I like the audience that frequenteth there “With much applause: a man shall not be choak'd “With the stench of garlick, nor be pasted “To the barmy jacket of a beer-brewer. &lblank; “'Tis a good gentle audience, &c.” It is said in Richard Flecknoe's Short Discourse of the English Stage, 1674, that “both the children of the chappel and St. Paul's, acted playes, the one in White-Frier's, the other behinde the Convocation-house in Paul's; till people growing more precise, and playes more licentious, the theatre of Paul's was quite supprest, and that of the children of the chappel converted to the use of the children of the revels.” Steevens. Little Yases, that cry out on the top of question, &lblank;] The poet here steps out of his subject to give a lash at home, and sneer at the prevailing fashion of following plays performed by the children of the chapel, and abandoning the established theatres. But why are they called little Yases? As he first calls 'em an Aiery of children (now, an Aiery or Eyery is a hawk's or eagle's nest); there is not the least question but we ought to restore—little Eyases; i. e. young nestlings, creatures just out of the egg. Theobald. So, in the Booke of Haukyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “And so bycause the best knowledge is by the eye, they be called eyessed. Ye may also knowe an eyesse by the paleness of the seres of her legges, or the sere over the beake.” Steevens.

Note return to page 548 4&lblank; cry out on the top of question, &lblank;] The meaning seems to be, they ask a common question in the highest notes of the voice. Johnson. I believe question, in this place, as in many others, signifies conversation, dialogue. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; Think you question with a Jew.” The meaning of the passage may therefore be—Children that perpetually recite in the highest notes of voice that can be uttered. Steevens.

Note return to page 549 4&lblank; escoted?] Paid. From the French escot, a shot or reckoning. Johnson.

Note return to page 550 5Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing?] Will they follow the profession of players no longer than they keep the voices of boys? So afterwards he says to the player, Come, give us a taste of your quality; come, a passionate speech. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1173

Note return to page 551 6&lblank; most like, &lblank;] The old copy reads,—like most. Steevens.

Note return to page 552 7&lblank; their writers do them wrong, &c.] I should have been very much surprized if I had not found Ben Jonson among the writers here alluded to. Steevens.

Note return to page 553 8&lblank; to tarre them on to controversy.] To provoke any animal to rage, is to tarre him. The word is said to come from the Greek &grt;&gra;&grr;&graa;&grs;&grs;&grw;. Johnson.

Note return to page 554 9&lblank; Hercules and his load too.] i. e. they not only carry away the world, but the world-bearer too: alluding to the story of Hercules's relieving Atlas. This is humorous. Warburton. The allusion may be to the Globe playhouse, on the Bankside, the sign of which was Hercules carrying the Globe. Steevens.

Note return to page 555 1It is not very strange: for mine uncle &lblank;] I do not wonder that the new players have so suddenly risen to reputation, my uncle supplies another example of the facility with which honour is conferred upon new claimants. Johnson.

Note return to page 556 2&lblank; in little.] i. e. in miniature. So, in the Noble Soldier, 1634: “The perfection of all Spaniards, Mars in little.” Again, in Drayton's Shepherd's Sirena: “Paradise in little done.” Again, in Massinger's New way to pay old debts: “His father's picture in little.” Steevens.

Note return to page 557 3There is something &lblank;] The old editions read,—'sblood, there is, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 558 4&lblank; let me comply &lblank;] Hanmer reads, Let me compliment with you. Johnson.

Note return to page 559 5When the wind is southerly, &c.] So, in Damon and Pythias, 1582: “But I perceive now, either the winde is at the south, “Or else your tunge cleaveth to the rooffe of your mouth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 560 6&lblank; I know a hawk from a hand-saw.] This was a common proverbial speech. The Oxford Editor alters it to, I know a hawk from an hernshaw, as if the other had been a corruption of the players; whereas the poet found the proverb thus corrupted in the mouths of the people: so that this critic's alteration only serves to shew us the original of the expression. Warburton. Similarity of sound is the source of many literary corruptions. In Holborn we have still the sign of the Bull and Gate, which exhibits but an odd combination of images. It was originally (as I learn from the title page of an old play) the Bullogne Gate, i. e. one of the gates of Bullogne; designed perhaps as a compliment to Henry VIII. who took that place in 1544. The Bullogne mouth, now the Bull and Mouth, had probably the same origin, i. e. the mouth of the harbour of Bullogne. Steevens.

Note return to page 561 7Buz, buz! &lblank;] Mere idle talk, the buz of the vulgar. Johnson. Buz, buz! are, I believe, only interjections employed to interrupt Polonius. B. Jonson uses them often for the same purpose, as well as Middleton in A Mad World my Masters, 1608. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1174

Note return to page 562 8Then came, &c.] This seems to be a line of a ballad. Johnson.

Note return to page 563 9&lblank; tragical &c.] The words within the crotchets I have recovered from the folio, and see no reason why they were hitherto omitted. There are many plays of the age, if not of Shakespeare, that answer to these descriptions. Steevens.

Note return to page 564 1Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light.] The tragedies of Seneca were translated into English by Tho. Newton, and published in 1581. One comedy of Plautus, viz. the Menæchmi, was likewise translated and published in 1595. Steevens.

Note return to page 565 2For the law of writ, and the liberty, these are the only men.] All the modern editions have, the law of wit, and the liberty; but both my old copies have, the law of writ, I believe rightly. Writ, for writing, composition. Wit was not, in our author's time, taken either for imagination, or acuteness, or both together, but for understanding, for the faculty by which we apprehend and judge. Those who wrote of the human mind, distinguished its primary powers into wit and will. Ascham distinguishes boys of tardy and of active faculties into quick wits and slow wits. Johnson.

Note return to page 566 3Why, as by lot, God wot &lblank; &c.] The old song from which these quotations are taken, I communicated to Dr. Percy, who has honoured it with a place in the second and third editions of his Reliques of ancient English Poetry. In the books belonging to the Stationers' Company, there is a late entry of this Ballad among others. “Jeffa Judge of Israel,” p. 93. vol. iii. Dec. 14, 1621. Steevens.

Note return to page 567 4the pious chanson &lblank;] It is pons chansons in the first folio edition. The old ballads sung on bridges, and from thence called Pons chansons. Hamlet is here repeating ends of old songs. Pope. It is pons chansons in the quarto too. I know not whence the rubric has been brought, yet it has not the appearance of an arbitrary addition. The titles of old ballads were never printed red; but perhaps rubric may stand for marginal explanation. Johnson. There are five large vols. of ballads in Mr. Pepys's collection in Magdalen college library, Cambridge, some as ancient as Henry VII's reign, and not one red letter upon any one of the titles. Gray. The first row of the rubric will, &c.] The words, of the rubric were first inserted by Mr. Rowe, in his edition in 1709. The old quartos in 1604, 1605, and 1611, read pious chanson, which gives the sense wanted, and I have accordingly inserted it in the text. The pious chansons were a kind of Christmas carols, containing some scriptural history thrown into loose rhimes, and sung about the streets by the common people when they went at that season to solicit alms. Hamlet is here repeating some scraps from a song of this kind, and when Polonius enquires what follows them, he refers him to the first row (i. e. division) of one of these, to obtain the information he wanted. Steevens.

Note return to page 568 5&lblank; my abridgment &lblank;] He calls the players afterwards, the brief chronicles of the time; but I think he now means only those who will shorten my talk. Johnson. An abridgement is used for a dramatic piece in the Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 5. Sc. 1. “Say what abridgment have you for this evening?” but it does not commodiously apply to this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 569 6&lblank; by the altitude of a chioppine.] A chioppine is a high shoe worn by the Italians, as in Tho. Heywood's Challenge of Beauty, Act 5. Song. The Italian in her high chopeene,   Scotch lass and lovely froe too; The Spanish Donna, French Madame,   He doth not feare to go to. So, in Ben Jonson's Cynthia's Revels: “I do wish myself one of my mistress's Cioppini.” Another demands, why would he be one of his mistress's Cioppini? a third answers, “because he would make her higher.” Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “I'm only taking instructions to make her a lower Chopeene; she finds fault that she's lifted too high.” Again, in Chapman's Cæsar and Pompey, 1631: “&lblank; and thou shalt “Have Chopines at commandement to any height “Of life thou canst wish.” Steevens.

Note return to page 570 7&lblank; be not crack'd within the ring.] That is, crack'd too much for use. This is said to a young player who acted the parts of women. Johnson. I find the same phrase in The Captain, by B. and Fletcher: “Come to be married to my lady's woman, “After she's crack'd in the ring.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Magnetic Lady: “Light gold, and crack'd within the ring.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; not a penny the worse “For a little use, whole within the ring. Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “You will not let my oaths be crack'd in the ring, will you? Steevens.

Note return to page 571 8&lblank; like friendly falconers &lblank;] Hanmer, who has much illustrated the allusions to falconry, reads, like French falconers. Johnson. French falconers is not a correction by Hanmer, but the reading of the first folio. The amusement of falconry was much cultivated in France. In All's well that ends well, Shakespear has introduced an astringer or falconer at the French court. Mr. Tollet, who has mentioned the same circumstance, likewise adds that it is said in Sir Tho. Browne's Tracts, p. 116. that “the French seem to have been the first and noblest falconers in the western part of Europe;” and, that the French king sent over his falconers to shew that sport to King James the first.” See Weldon's Court of King James. Steevens.

Note return to page 572 9Caviare to the general:] Caviare is the spawn of sturgeon pickled, and is imported hither from Russia. Sir J. Hawkins. The Caviare is not the spawn of the sturgeon, but of the sterlett, a fish of the sturgeon kind, which seldom grows above thirty inches long. It is found in many of the rivers of Russia, but the Volga produces the best and in the greatest plenty. See Bell's Journey from Petersburgh to Ispahan. B. Jonson has ridiculed the introduction of these foreign delicacies in his Cinthia's Revels.—“He doth learn to eat Anchovies, Macaroni, Bovoli, Fagioli, and Caviare,” &c. Again, in the Muses Looking Glass, by Randolph, 1638: “&lblank; the pleasure that I take in spending it, “To feed on Caviare and eat anchovies.” Again, in the White Devil, 1612: “&lblank; one citizen “Is lord of two fair manors that call'd you master, “Only for Caviare.” Again, in Marston's What you will, 1607: “&lblank; a man can scarce eat good meat, “Anchovies, Caviare, but he's satired.” Mr. Malone observes that lord Clarendon uses the general for the people, in the same manner. And so by undervaluing many particulars (which they truly esteemed) as rather to be consented to than that the general should suffer.” B. 5. p. 530. Steevens.

Note return to page 573 1&lblank; cried in the top of mine &lblank;] i. e. whose judgment I had the highest opinion of. Warburton. I think it means only that were higher than mine. Johnson. Whose judgment, in such matters, was in much higher vogue than mine. Revisal. Perhaps it means only—whose judgment was more clamorously delivered than mine. We still say of a bawling actor, that he speaks on the top of his voice. Steevens.

Note return to page 574 2&lblank; set down with as much modesty &lblank;] Modesty, for simplicity. Warburton.

Note return to page 575 3&lblank; there were no sallets, &c.] Such is the reading of the old copies. I know not why the later editors continued to adopt the alteration of Mr. Pope, and read, no salt, &c. Mr. Pope's alteration may indeed be in some degree supported by the following passage in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; a prepar'd troop of gallants, who shall distaste every unsalted line in their fly-blown comedies.” Though the other phrase was used as late as in the year 1665, in a Banquet of Jests, &c. “&lblank; for junkets, joci; and for curious sallets, sales.” Steevens.

Note return to page 576 4&lblank; that might indite the author &lblank;] Indite, for convict. Warburton. &lblank; indite the author of affection:] i. e. convict the author of being a fantastical affected writer. Maria calls Malvolio an affectioned ass, i. e. an affected ass; and in Love's Labour's Lost, Nathaniel tells the Pedant, that his reasons “have been witty without affection.” Again, in the translation of Castiglione's Courtier, by Hobby, 1556: “Among the chiefe conditions and qualityes in a waiting gentlewoman,” is “to flee affection or curiosity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 577 5&lblank; but call'd it, an honest method, &lblank;] Hamlet is telling how much his judgment differed from that of others. One said, there was no salt in the lines, &c. but called it an honest method. The author probably gave it, But I called it an honest method, &c. Johnson. &lblank; an honest method, &lblank;] Honest, for chaste. Warburton.

Note return to page 578 6&lblank; wholesome &c.] This passage was recovered from the quartos by Dr. Johnson. Steevens.

Note return to page 579 7Now is he total gules;] Gules is a term in the barbarous jargon peculiar to heraldry, and signifies red. Shakespeare has it again in Timon: “With man's blood paint the ground; gules, gules.” Heywood, in his Second Part of the Iron Age, has made a verb from it: “&lblank; old Hecuba's reverend locks “Be gul'd in slaughter.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 580 8&lblank; the mobled queen &lblank;] Mobled or mabled signifies veiled. So Sandys, speaking of the Turkish women, says, their heads and faces are mabled in fine linen, that no more is to be seen of them than their eyes. Travels. Warburton. Mobled signifies huddled, grossly covered. Johnson. The folio reads—the inobled queen; and in all probability it is the true reading. This pompous but unmeaning epithet might be introduced merely to make her Pnrygian majesty, appear more ridiculous in the following lines, where she is represented as wearing a clout on her head; or, innobled queen may however signify the queen unnobled, i. e. divested of her former dignities. Mr. Upton would read mob-led queen: Magna comitante caterva. I am informed that mab-led, in Warwickshire (where it is pronounced mob-led) signifies led astray by a will o' the wisp, an ignis fatuus. Steevens. “The mobbled queen.” I meet with this word in Shirley's Gentleman of Venice, “The moon does mobble up herself.” Farmer. In the latter end of the reign of King Charles II. the rabble that attended the Earl of Shaftsbury's partizans was first called mobile vulgus, and afterwards, by contraction, the mob; and ever since, the word mob has become proper English. Consequently Mr. Upton's supposition must fall to the ground. Tollet. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1179

Note return to page 581 9With bisson rheum: &lblank;] Bisson or beesen, i. e. blind. A word still in use in some parts of the north of England. So in Coriolanus: “What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character?” Steevens.

Note return to page 582 1&lblank; made milch &lblank;] Drayton in the 13th Song of his Polyolbion gives this epithet to dew. “Exhaling the milch dew, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 583 2Is it not monstrous, that this player here,] It should seem from the complicated nature of such parts as Hamlet, Lear, &c. that the time of Shakespeare had produced many excellent performers. He would scarce have taken the pains to form characters which he had no prospect of seeing represented with force and propriety on the stage. Steevens.

Note return to page 584 3&lblank; all his visage warm'd;] This might do, did not the old quarto lead us to a more exact and pertinent reading, which is, &lblank; visage wan'd; i. e. turn'd pale or wan. For so the visage appears when the mind is thus affectioned, and not warm'd or flush'd. Warburton. The working of the soul, and the effort to shed tears, will give a colour to the actor's face, instead of taking it away. The visage is always warm'd and flush'd by any unusual exertion in a passionate speech; but no performer was ever yet found, I believe, whose feelings were of such exquisite sensibility as to produce paleness in any situation in which the drama could place him. But if players were indeed possessed of that power, there is no such circumstance in the speech uttered before Hamlet, as could introduce the wanness for which Dr. Warburton contends. Steevens.

Note return to page 585 4“Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect.”] The word aspect (as Dr. Farmer very properly observes) was in Shakespeare's time accented on the second syllable. The folio exhibits the passage as I have printed it. Steevens.

Note return to page 586 5What's Hecuba to him, &c.] The expression of Hamlet, What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, is plainly an allusion to a passage in Plutarch's Life of Pelopidas, so exquisitely beautiful, and so pertinent, that I wonder it has never yet been taken notice of. “And another time, being in a theatre where the tragedy of Troades of Euripides was played, he [Alexander Pheræus] went out of the theatre, and sent word to the players notwithstanding, that they should go on with their play, as if he had been still among them; saying, that he came not away for any misliking he had of them or of the play, but because he was ashamed his people should see him weep, to see the miseries of Hecuba and Andromache played, and that they never saw him pity the death of any one man, of so many of his citizens as he had caused to be slain.” Sir John Hawkins. This observation had been already made by Mr. Upton. Steevens.

Note return to page 587 6&lblank; the cue for passion.] The hint, the direction. Johnson.

Note return to page 588 7&lblank; the general ear &lblank;] The ears of all mankind. So before, Caviare to the general, that is, to the multitude. Johnson.

Note return to page 589 8Like John-a-dreams, &lblank;] Perhaps this name is corrupted. John-a-droynes seems to have been some well known character, as I have met with more than one allusion to him. So, in Have with you to Saffron Walden, or Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is up, by Nashe, 1596: “The description of that poor John-a-droynes his man, whom he had hired, &c.” John a Droynes is likewise a foolish character in Whetstone's Promos and Cassandra, 1578, who is seized by informers, has not much to say in his defence, and is cheated out of his money. Steevens.

Note return to page 590 9&lblank; unpregnant of my cause,] Unpregnant, for having no due sense of. Warburton. Rather, not quickened with a new desire of vengeance; not teeming with revenge. Johnson.

Note return to page 591 1A damn'd defeat was made. &lblank;] Defeat, for destruction. Warburton. Rather, dispossession. Johnson. The word defeat is very licentiously used by the old writers. Shakespeare in another play employs it yet more quaintly.— “Defeat my favour with an usurped beard;” and Middleton, in his comedy called Any Thing for a Quiet Life, says—“I have heard of your defeat made upon a mercer.” Again, in Revenge for Honour, by Chapman: “That he might meantime make a sure defeat “On our aged father's life.” Again, in the Wits, by Sir W. D'Avenant, 1637: “&lblank; Not all the skill I have can pronounce him free of the defeat upon my gold and jewels.” Again, in the Isle of Gulls, 1633: “My late shipwreck has made a defeat both of my friends and treasure.” Steevens.

Note return to page 592 2&lblank; kindless &lblank;] Unnatural. Johnson.

Note return to page 593 3Why, what an ass am I? This is most brave,] The folio reads, “O vengeance! “Who? what an ass am I? Sure this is most brave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 594 4A scullion!] Thus the folio. The quartos read, a stallion. Steevens.

Note return to page 595 5About, my brain!] Wits, to your work. Brain, go about the present business. Johnson. This expression occurs in the Second Part of the Iron Age, by Heywood, 1632: “My brain about again! for thou hast found “New projects now to work on.” Steevens.

Note return to page 596 6&lblank; I've heard, That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,] A number of these stories are collected together by Tho. Heywood, in his Actor's Vindication. Steevens.

Note return to page 597 7&lblank; tent him &lblank;] Search his wounds. Johnson.

Note return to page 598 8&lblank; if he but blench,] If he shrink, or start. The word is used by B. and Fletcher in the Wild Goose Chace: “Your sister, sir? Do you blench at that?” &lblank; Again, in The Night-walker: “Blench at no danger, though it be the gallows.” Again in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. vi. fol. 128: “Without blenchinge of mine eie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 599 9More relative than this; &lblank;] Relative, for convictive. Warburton. Convictive is only the consequential sense. Relative is, nearly related, closely connected. Johnson.

Note return to page 600 1&lblank; conference] The folio reads, circumstance. Steevens.

Note return to page 601 2Niggard of question; but, of our demands, Most free in his reply.] This is given as the description of the conversation of a man whom the speaker found not forward to be sounded; and who kept aloof when they would bring him to confession: but such a description can never pass but at cross-purposes. Shakespeare certainly wrote it just the other way: Most free of question; but, of our demands, Niggard in his reply. That this is the true reading, we need but turn back to the preceding scene, for Hamlet's conduct, to be satisfied. Warburton.

Note return to page 602 3&lblank; o'er-raught on the way: &lblank;] Over-raught is over-reached, that is, over-took. Johnson. So, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. 6. c. 3: “Having by chance a close advantage view'd, “He over-raught him, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 603 4Affront Ophelia.] To affront, is only to meet directly. Johnson. Affrontare. Ital. So, in the Devil's Charter, 1607: “Affronting that port where proud Charles should enter.” Again, in Sir W. D'Avenant's Cruel Brother, 1630: “In sufferance affronts the winter's rage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 604 5&lblank; espials] i. e. spies. So in one of our author's historical plays: &lblank; as he march'd along By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops. The words—lawful espials, are wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 605 6Your loneliness.] Thus the folio. The first and second quartos read lowliness. Steevens.

Note return to page 606 7'Tis too much prov'd, &lblank;] It is found by too frequent experience. Johnson.

Note return to page 607 8&lblank; more ugly to the thing that helps it,] That is, compared with the thing that helps it. Johnson.

Note return to page 608 9To be, or not to be? &lblank;] Of this celebrated soliloquy, which bursting from a man distracted with contrariety of desires, and overwhelmed with the magnitude of his own purposes, is connected rather in the speaker's mind, than on his tongue, I shall endeavour to discover the train, and to shew how one sentiment produces another. Hamlet, knowing himself injured in the most enormous and atrocious degree, and seeing no means of redress, but such as must expose him to the extremity of hazard, meditates on his situation in this manner: Before I can form any rational scheme of action under this pressure of distress, it is necessary to decide, whether, after our present state, we are to be, or not to be. That is the question, which, as it shall be answered, will determine, whether 'tis nobler, and more suitable to the dignity of reason, to suffer the outrages of fortune patiently, or to take arms against them, and by opposing end them, though perhaps with the loss of life. If to die, were to sleep, no more, and by a sleep to end the miseries of our nature, such a sleep were devoutly to be wished; but if to sleep in death, be to dream, to retain our powers of sensibility, we must pause to consider, in that sleep of death what dreams may come. This consideration makes calamity so long endured; for who would bear the vexations of life, which might be ended by a bare bodkin, but that he is afraid of something in unknown futurity? This fear it is that gives efficacy to conscience, which, by turning the mind upon this regard, chills the ardour of resolution, checks the vigour of enterprize, and makes the current of desire stagnate in inactivity. We may suppose that he would have applied these general observations to his own case, but that he discovered Ophelia. Johnson. I cannot but think that Dr. Johnson's explication of this passage, though excellent on the whole, is wrong in the outset.—He explains the words—To be, or not to be—“Whether after our present state, we are to be, or not;” whereas the obvious sense of them— To live, or to put an end to my life, seems clearly to be pointed out by the following words, which are manifestly a paraphrase on the foregoing—Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, &c. or to take arms—The train of Hamlet's reasoning, which Dr. Johnson has so well explained, is sufficiently clear, which ever way the words are understood. Malone.

Note return to page 609 1&lblank; arrows of outrageous fortune;] “Homines nos ut esse meminerimus, eâ lege natos, ut omnibus telis fortunæ proposita sit vita nostra.” Cic. Epist. Fam. v. 16. Steevens.

Note return to page 610 2Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,] Without question Shakespeare wrote, &lblank; against assail of troubles, i. e. assault. Warburton. Mr. Pope proposed siege. I know not why there should be so much solicitude about this metaphor. Shakespeare breaks his metaphors often, and in this desultory speech there was less need of preserving them. Johnson. The change which Mr. Pope would recommend, may be justified from a passage in Romeo and Juliet, scene the last: You—to remove that siege of grief from her &lblank; Steevens. Again, from another in Timon: “&lblank; Not even nature “To whom all sores lay siege.” The same metaphor is used by Marston, in the Second Part of Antonio and Mellida, 1602: “Whom fretful galls of chance, stern fortune's siege.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “She will not stay the siege of loving terms.” Again, in our author's 65th Sonnet: “Or how shall summer's honey-breath hold out “Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days &lblank;” Malone.

Note return to page 611 3To die,—to sleep, &lblank;] This passage is ridiculed in the Scornful Lady of B. and Fletcher, as follows: “&lblank; be deceas'd, that is, asleep, for so the word is taken. To sleep, to die; to die, to sleep; a very figure, sir.” &c. &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 612 4&lblank; mortal coil,] i. e. turmoil, bustle. Warburton.

Note return to page 613 5&lblank; the whips and scorns of time,] The evils here complained of are not the product of time or duration simply, but of a corrupted age or manners. We may be sure, then, that Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; the whips and scorns of th' time. And the description of the evils of a corrupt age, which follows, confirms this emendation. Warburton. I doubt whether the corruption of this passage is not more than the editor has suspected. Whips and scorns have no great connexion with one other, or with time: whips and scorns are evils of very different magnitude, and though at all times scorn may be endured, yet the times that put men ordinarily in danger of whips are very rare. Falstaff has said, that the courtiers would whip him with their fine wits; but I know not that whip can be used for a scoff or insult, unless its meaning be fixed by the whole expression. I am afraid lest I should venture too far in correcting this passage. If whips be retained, we may read, For who would bear the whips and scorns of tyrants. But I think that quip, a sneer, a sarcasm, a contemptuous jest, is the proper word, as suiting very exactly with scorn. What then must be done with time? it suits no better with the new reading than with the old, and tyrant is an image too bulky and serious. I read, but not confidently: For who would bear the quips and scorns of title. It may be remarked, that Hamlet, in his enumeration of miseries, forgets, whether properly or not, that he is a prince, and mentions many evils to which inferior stations only are exposed. Johnson. I think we might venture to read the whips and scorns o'th' times, i. e. of times satirical as the age of Shakespeare, which probably furnished him with the idea. In the reigns of Elizabeth and James (particularly in the former) there was more illiberal private abuse and peevish satire published, than in any others I ever knew of, except the present one. I have many of these publications, which were almost all pointed at individuals. Daniel, in his Musophilus, 1599, has the same complaint: “Do you not see these pamphlets, libels, rhimes,   “These strange confused tumults of the mind, “Are grown to be the sickness of these times,   “The great disease inflicted on mankind?” Whips and scorns are surely as inseparable companions, as public punishment and infamy. Quips, the word which Dr. Johnson would introduce, is derived, by all etymologists, from whips. Hamlet is introduced as reasoning on a question of general concernment. He therefore takes in all such evils as could befall mankind in general, without considering himself at present as a prince, or wishing to avail himself of the few exemptions which high place might once have claimed. In part of K. James Ist's Entertainment passing to his Coronation, by Ben Jonson and Decker, is the following line, and note on that line: “And first account of years, of months, of time.” “By time we understand the present.” This explanation affords the sense for which I have contended, and without alteration. Steevens.

Note return to page 614 6&lblank; of despis'd love,] The folio reads—Of dispriz'd love. Steevens.

Note return to page 615 7&lblank; might his Quietus make With a bare bodkin? &lblank;] The first expression probably alluded to the writ of discharge, which was formerly granted to those barons and knights who personally attended the king on any foreign expedition. This discharge was called a Quietus. It is at this time the term for the acquittance which every sheriff receives on settling his accounts at the exchequer. The word is used for the discharge of an account, by Webster, in his Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “You had the trick in audit time to be sick “Till I had sign'd your Quietus.” Again, “And 'cause you shall not come to me in debt “(Being now my steward) here upon your lips “I sign your Quietus.” A bodkin was, I believe, the ancient term for a small dagger. Gascoigne, speaking of Julius Cæsar, says, “At last with bodkins, dub'd and doust to death “All all his glory vanish'd with his breath.” In the margin of Stowe's Chronicle, edit. 1614, it is said, that Cæsar was slain with bodkins; and in The Muses' Looking-glass, by Randolph, 1638: “Apho. A rapier's but a bodkin, “Deil. And a bodkin “Is a most dang'rous weapon; since I read “Of Julius Cæsar's death, I durst not venture “Into a taylor's shop for fear of bodkins.” Again, in The Custom of the Country, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; Out with your bodkin, “Your pocket-dagger, your stilletto.” &lblank; Again, in Sapho and Phao, 1591: “&lblank; there will be a desperate fray between two, made at all weapons, from the brown bill to the bodkin.” Again in Chaucer, as he is quoted at the end of a pamphlet called the Serpent of Division, &c. whereunto is annexed the Tragedy of Gorboduc, &c. 1591: “With bodkins was Cæsar Julius “Murdered at Rome, of Brutus Crassus.” Steevens.

Note return to page 616 8To groan and sweat &lblank;] All the old copies have, to grunt and sweat. It is undoubtedly the true reading, but can scarcely be borne by modern ears. Johnson. This word occurs in the Death of Zoroas, a fragment in blank verse, printed at the end of Lord Surry's Poems: “&lblank; none the charge could give; “Here grunts; here grones; echwhere strong youth is spent.” And Stanyhurst in his translation of Virgil, 1582, for supremum congemuit gives us: “&lblank; for sighing it grunts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 617 9That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns &lblank;] This has been cavilled at by Lord Orrery and others, but without reason. The idea of a traveller in Shakespeare's time, was of a person who gave an account of his adventures. Every voyage was a Discovery. John Taylor has “A Discovery by sea from London to Salisbury.” Farmer. Again, Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: “&lblank; wrestled with death, “From whose stern cave none tracks a backward path.” Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum Illuc unde negant redire quenquam. Catullus. Steevens.

Note return to page 618 1&lblank; great pith] Thus the folio. The quartos read, of great pitch. Steevens.

Note return to page 619 2&lblank; turn away,] Thus the quartos. The folio—turn away. Steevens.

Note return to page 620 3&lblank; Nymph, in thy orisons, &c.] This is a touch of nature. Hamlet, at the sight of Ophelia, does not immediately recollect, that he is to personate madness, but makes her an address grave and solemn, such as the foregoing meditation excited in his thoughts. Johnson.

Note return to page 621 4That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no discourse to your beauty.] This is the reading of all the modern editions, and is copied from the quarto. The folio reads, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty. The true reading seems to be this, If you be honest and fair, you should admit your honesty to no discourse with your beauty. This is the sense evidently required by the process of the conversation. Johnson.

Note return to page 622 5&lblank; inoculate] This is the reading of the first folio. The first quarto reads euocutat; the second, euacuat; and the third, evacuate. Steevens.

Note return to page 623 6&lblank; at my beck, &lblank;] That is, always ready to come about me. With more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.] What is the meaning of thoughts to put them in? A word is dropt out. We should read, &lblank; thoughts to put them in name. This was the progress. The offences are first conceived and named, then projected to be put in act, then executed. Warburton. To put a thing into thought, is to think on it. Johnson.

Note return to page 624 7I have heard of your paintings too, well enough, &c.] This is according to the quarto; the folio, for painting, has prattlings, and for face, has pace, which agrees with what follows, you jig, you amble. Probably the author wrote both. I think the common reading best. Johnson. I would continue to read, paintings, because these destructive aids of beauty seem, in the time of Shakespeare, to have been general objects of satire. So, in Drayton's Mooncalf: “No sooner got the teens, “But her own natural beauty she disdains; “With oyls and broths most venomous and base “She plaisters over her well-favour'd face; “And those sweet veins by nature rightly plac'd “Wherewith she seems that white skin to have lac'd, “She soon doth alter; and with fading blue, “Blanching her bosom, she makes others new.” Steevens.

Note return to page 625 8&lblank; make your wantonness your ignorance.] You mistake by wanton affectation, and pretend to mistake by ignorance. Johnson.

Note return to page 626 9The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;] The poet certainly meant to have placed his words thus: The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword; otherwise the excellence of tongue is appropriated to the soldier, and the scholar wears the sword. Warner. This regulation is needless. So, in Tarquin and Lucrece: “Princes are the glass, the school, the book, “Where subjects eyes do learn, do read, do look.” And in Quintilian: “Multum agit sexus, ætas, conditio; ut in faminis, senibus, pupillis, liberos, parentes, conjuges, alligantibus.” Farmer.

Note return to page 627 1&lblank; the mould of form,] The model by whom all endeavoured to form themselves. Johnson.

Note return to page 628 2&lblank; most deject] So, in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “&lblank; What knight is that “So passionately deject?” Steevens.

Note return to page 629 3&lblank; out of tune] Thus the folio. The quarto—out of time. Steevens.

Note return to page 630 4&lblank; and feature] Thus the folio. The quartos read stature. Steevens.

Note return to page 631 5&lblank; with ecstasy.] The word ecstasy was anciently used to signify some degree of alienation of mind. So G. Douglas, translating—stetit acri fixa dolore: “In ecstasy she stood, and mad almaise.” So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; on the torture of the mind to lie “In restless ecstasy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 632 6&lblank; be round with him;] To be round with a person, is to reprimand him with freedom. So, in A Mad World my Masters, by Middleton, 1640: “She's round with her i'faith.” Malone.

Note return to page 633 7&lblank; perriwig-pated] This is a ridicule on the quantity of false hair worn in Shakespeare's time, for wigs were not in common use till the reign of Charles II. In the Two Gentlemen of Verona, Julia says—“I'll get me such a colour'd perriwig.” Goff, who wrote several plays in the reign of James I. and was no mean scholar, has the following lines in his tragedy of the Courageous Turk, 1632: “&lblank; How now, you heavens, “Grow you so proud you must needs put on curl'd locks, “And clothe yourselves in perriwigs of fire?” Players, however, seem to have worn them most generally. So, in Every Woman in her Humour, 1609: “&lblank; as none wear hoods but monks and ladies; and feathers but fore-horses, &c;— none perriwigs but players and pictures. Steevens.

Note return to page 634 8&lblank; the groundlings; &lblank;] The meaner people then seem to have sat below, as they now sit in the upper gallery, who, not well understanding poetical language, were sometimes gratified by a mimical and mute representation of the drama, previous to the dialogue. Johnson. Before each act of the tragedy of Jocasta, translated from Euripides, by Geo. Gascoigne and Fra. Kinwelmersh, the order of these dumb shews is very minutely described. This play was presented at Gray's Inn by them in 1566. The mute exhibitions included in it are chiefly emblematical, nor do they display a picture of one single scene which is afterwards performed on the stage. In some other pieces I have observed, that they serve to introduce such circumstances as the limits of a play would not admit to be represented. Thus in Herod and Antipater, 1622: “&lblank; Let me now “Intreat your worthy patience to contain “Much in imagination; and, what words “Cannot have time to utter, let your eyes, “Out of this dumb show, tell your memories.” In short, dumb shews sometimes supplied deficiencies, and, at others, filled up the space of time which was necessary to pass while business was supposed to be transacted in foreign parts. With this method of preserving one of the unities, our ancestors appear to have been satisfied. Ben Jonson mentions the groundlings with equal contempt. “The understanding gentlemen of the ground “here.” Again, in The Case is Alter'd, 1609:—“a rude barbarous crew that have no brains, and yet grounded judgments; they will hiss any thing that mounts above their grounded capacities.” Again, in Lady Alimony, 1659: “Be your stage-curtains artificially drawn, and so covertly shrowded that the squint-ey'd groundling may not peep in?” In our early play-houses the pit had neither floor nor benches. Hence the term of groundlings for those who frequented it. The groundling, in its primitive signification, means a fish which always keeps at the bottom of the water. Steevens.

Note return to page 635 9&lblank; inexplicable dumb shews,] I believe the meaning is, shews, without words to explain them. Johnson. Rather, I believe, shews which are too confusedly conducted to explain themselves. I meet with one of these in Heywood's play of the Four Prentices of London, 1632, where the Presenter says, “I must entreat your patience to forbear “While we do feast your eye and starve your ear. “For in dumb shews, which were they writ at large “Would ask a long and tedious circumstance, “Their infant fortunes I will soon express:” &c. Then follow the dumb shews, which well deserve the character Hamlet has already given of this species of entertainment, as may be seen from the following passage: “Enter Tancred, with Bella Franca richly attired, she somewhat affecting him, though she makes no show of it.” Surely this may be called an inexplicable dumb shew.” Steevens.

Note return to page 636 1&lblank; Termagant; &lblank;] Termagant was a Saracen deity, very clamorous and violent in the old moralities. Percy. Termagant is mentioned by Spenser in his Fairy Queen, and by Chaucer in The Tale of Sir Topas; and by B. and Fletcher in King or no King, as follows: “This would make a saint swear like a soldier, and a soldier like Termagant.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; swears, God bless us, “Like a very Termagant.” Again, in The Picture, by Massinger: “&lblank; a hundred thousand Turks “Assail'd him, every one a Termagaunt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 637 2&lblank; out-herods Herod:] The character of Herod in the ancient mysteries was always a violent one: See the Coventriæ Ludus among the Cotton Mss. Vespasian D. VIII. “Now I regne lyk a kyng arayd ful rych, “Rollyd in rynggs and robys of array, “Dukys with dentys I dryve into the dych; “My dedys be ful dowty demyd be day.” Again, in the Chester Whitsun Plays, Ms. Harl. 1013: “I kynge of kynges non soe keene, “I sovraigne sir as well is seene, “I tyrant that maye bouth take and teene “Castell tower and towne. “I welde this worlde withouten were, “I beate all those unbuxome beene; “I drive the devills alby dene “Deepe in hell a downe. “For I am kinge of all mankinde, “I byd, I beate, I lose, I bynde, “I master the moone, take this in mynde “That I am most of mighte. “I ame the greatest above degree “That is, that was, or ever shall be; “The sonne it dare not shine on me, “And I byd him goe downe. “No raine to fall shall now be free, “Nor no lorde have that liberty “That dare abyde and I byd fleey, “But I shall crake his crowne.” See the Vintner's Play, p. 67. Chaucer describing a parish clerk, in his Miller's Tale, says, “He playith Herode on a skaffold high.” The parish clerks and other subordinate ecclesiasticks appear to have been our first actors, and to have represented their characters on distinct pulpits or scaffolds. Thus, in one of the stage-directions to the 27th pageant in the Coventry collection already mentioned; “What tyme that processyon is entered into yt place, and the Herowdys takyn his schaffalde, and Annas and Cayphas their schaffaldys, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 638 3&lblank; age and body of the time, &lblank;] The age of the time can hardly pass. May we not read, the face and body, or did the author write, the page? The page suits well with form and pressure, but ill with body. Johnson. To exhibit the form and pressure of the age of the time, is, to represent the manners of the time suitable to the period that is treated of, according as it may be ancient, or modern. Steevens.

Note return to page 639 4&lblank; pressure &lblank;] Resemblance, as in a print. Johnson.

Note return to page 640 5&lblank; O, there be players] I would read thus: “There be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly (not to speak profanely) that neither having the accent nor the gait of Christian, Pagan, nor Mussulman, have so strutted and bellowed, that I thought some of nature's journeymen had made the men, and not made them well, &c.” Farmer.

Note return to page 641 6&lblank; (not to speak it profanely) &lblank;] Profanely seems to relate, not to the praise which he has mentioned, but to the censure which he is about to utter. Any gross or indelicate language was called profane. Johnson.

Note return to page 642 7&lblank; speak no more than is set down for them.] So, in The Antipodes, by Brome, 1638: “&lblank; you, sir, are incorrigible, and “Take licence to yourself to add unto “Your parts, your own free fancy, &c.” —“That is a way, my lord, has been allow'd “On elder stages, to move mirth and laughter.” —“Yes, in the days of Tarlton, and of Kempe, “Before the stage was purg'd from barbarism, &c.” Stowe informs us (p. 697, edit. 1615), that among the twelve players who were sworn the queen's servants in 1583, “were two rare men, viz. Thomas Wilson, for a quicke delicate refined extemporall witte; and Richard Tarleton, for a wondrous plentifull, pleasant extemporall witt, &c.” Again, in Tarlton's Newes from Purgatory: “&lblank; I absented myself from all plaies, as wanting that merrye Roscius of plaiers that famosed all comedies so with his pleasant and extemporall invention.” Steevens.

Note return to page 643 8&lblank; the pregnant hinges of the knee,] I believe the sense of pregnant in this place is, quick, ready, prompt. Johnson.

Note return to page 644 9&lblank; my dear soul &lblank;] Perhaps, my clear soul. Johnson. Dear soul is an expression equivalent to the &grf;&gria;&grl;&gra; &grg;&gro;&grua;&grn;&gra;&grt;&gra;, &grf;&gria;&grl;&gro;&grn; &grhsc;&grt;&gro;&grr;, of Homer. Steevens.

Note return to page 645 1And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself:] Thus the folio. The quarto thus: And could of men distinguish her election, Sh' hath seal'd thee, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 646 2Whose blood and judgment &lblank;] According to the doctrine of the four humours, desire and confidence were seated in the blood, and judgment in the phlegm, and the due mixture of the humours made a perfect character. Johnson.

Note return to page 647 3&lblank; Vulcan's stithy. &lblank;] Stithy is a smith's anvil. Johnson. So, in Troilus and Cressida: Now by the forge that stithied Mars's helm. So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608:—“determined to strike on the stith while the iron was hot.” Again, in Chaucer's celebrated description of the Temple of Mars, late edit. ver. 2028: “&lblank; the smith “That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his stith.” Steevens.

Note return to page 648 4&lblank; nor mine now.] A man's words, says the proverb, are his own no longer than he keeps them unspoken. Johnson.

Note return to page 649 5&lblank; It was a brute part of him, &lblank;] Sir John Harrington, in his Metamorphosis of Ajax, 1596, has the same quibble: “O brave-minded Brutus! but this I must truly say, they were two brutish parts both of him and you; one to kill his sons for treason, the other to kill his father in treason.” Steevens.

Note return to page 650 6&lblank; they stay upon your patience.] May it not be read more intelligibly, They stay upon your pleasure. In Macbeth it is: “Noble Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.” Johnson.

Note return to page 651 7&lblank; at Ophelia's feet.] To lie at the feet of a mistress during any dramatic representation, seems to have been a common act of gallantry. So, in the Queen of Corinth, by B. and Fletcher: “Ushers her to her coach, lies at her feet “At solemn masques, applauding what she laughs at.” Again, in Gascoigne's Greene Knight's farewell to Fancie: “To lie along in ladies lappes, &c.” This fashion which Shakespeare probably designed to ridicule by appropriating it to Hamlet during his dissembled madness, is likewise exposed by Decker, in his Guls Hornbook, 1609. See an extract from it among the prefaces. Steevens.

Note return to page 652 8I mean, &c.] This speech and Ophelia's reply to it, are omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 653 9Do you think I meant country matters?] I think we must read, Do you think I meant country manners? Do you imagine that I meant to sit in your lap, with such rough gallantry as clowns use to their lasses? Johnson.

Note return to page 654 1&lblank; your only jig-maker.] There may have been some humour in this passage, the force of which is now diminished: “&lblank; many gentlemen “Are not, as in the days of understanding, “Now satisfied without a jig, which since “They cannot, with their honour, call for after “The play, they look to be serv'd up in the middle.” Changes, or Love in a Maze, by Shirley, 1632. In the Hog has lost his Pearl, 1614, one of the players comes to solicit a gentleman to write a jig for him. A jig was not in Shakespeare's time a dance, but a ludicrous dialogue in metre, and of the lowest kind, like Hamlet's conversation with Ophelia. Many of these jiggs are entered in the books of the Stationers' Company:—“Philips his Jigg of the slyppers, 1595. Kempe's Jigg of the Kitchen-stuff-woman, 1595.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1183

Note return to page 655 2&lblank; Nay, then let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables. &lblank;] The conceit of these words is not taken. They are an ironical apology for his mother's cheerful looks: two months was long enough in conscience to make any dead husband forgotten. But the editors, in their nonsensical blunder, have made Hamlet say just the contrary. That the devil and he would both go into mourning, though his mother did not. The true reading is this, Nay, then let the devil wear black, 'fore I'll have a suit of sable. 'Fore, i. e. before. As much as to say, Let the devil wear black for me, I'll have none. The Oxford Editor despises an emendation so easy, and reads it thus, Nay, then let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of ermine. And you could expect no less, when such a critic had the dressing of him. But the blunder was a pleasant one. The senseless editors had wrote sables, the fur so called, for sable, black. And the critic only changed this fur for that; by a like figure, the common people say, You rejoice the cockles of my heart, for the muscles of my heart; an unlucky mistake of one shell-fish for another. Warburton. I know not why our editors should, with such implacable anger, persecute their predecessors. &grO;&grir; &grn;&gre;&grk;&grr;&gro;&grig; &grm;&grhg; &grd;&graa;&grk;&grn;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gri;&grn;, the dead, it is true, can make no resistance, they may be attacked with great security; but since they can neither feel nor mend, the safety of mauling them seems greater than the pleasure; nor perhaps would it much misbeseem us to remember, amidst our triumphs over the nonsensical and the senseless, that we likewise are men; that debemur morti, and, as Swift observed to Burnet, shall soon be among the dead ourselves. I cannot find how the common reading is nonsense, nor why Hamlet, when he laid aside his dress of mourning, in a country where it was bitter cold, and the air was nipping and eager, should not have a suit of sables. I suppose it is well enough known, that the fur of sables is not black. Johnson. A suit of sables was the richest dress that could be worn in Denmark. Steevens. Here again is an equivoque. In Massinger's Old Law, we have “A cunning grief, “That's only faced with sables for a show, “But gawdy-hearted.” &lblank; Farmer.

Note return to page 656 3&lblank; suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse; &lblank;] Amongst the country may-games there was an hobby-horse, which, when the puritanical humour of those times opposed and discredited these games, was brought by the poets and ballad-makers as an instance of the ridiculous zeal of the sectaries: from these ballads Hamlet quotes a line or two. Warburton. &lblank; O, the hobby-horse is forgot.] In Love's Labour's Lost, this line is also introduced. In a small black-letter book, intitled, Playes Confuted, by Stephen Gosson, I find the hobby-horse enumerated in the list of dances. “For the devil (says this author) beeside the beautie of the houses, and the stages, sendeth in gearish apparell, maskes, vauting, tumbling, dauncing of gigges, galiardes, morisces, hobbi-horses,” &c. and in Green's Tu quoque, 1599 the same expression occurs: “The other hobby-horse, I perceive, is not forgotten.” In &grT;&grE;&grX;&grN;&grO;&grG;&grA;&grM;&grI;&grA;, or The Marriage of the Arts, 1618, is the following stage-direction. “Enter a hobby-horse, dancing the morrice,” &c. Again, in B. and Fletcher's Women Pleased: Soto. “Shall the hobby-horse be forgot then, “The hopeful hobby-horse, shall he lie founder'd?” The scene, in which this passage is, will very amply confirm all that Dr. Warburton has said concerning the hobby-horse. Again, in Ben Jonson's Entertainment for the Queen and Prince at Althorpe: “But see, the hobby-horse is forgot. “Fool, it must be your lot, “To supply his want with faces, “And some other buffoon graces.” See figure 5 in the plate at the end of the First Part of King Henry IV, with Mr. Tollet's observations on it. Steevens.

Note return to page 657 4Enter, &c.] In our former edition several notes on this passage were assembled; but being all founded on a mistaken reading, they are now omitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 658 5Marry, this is miching malicho; it means mischief] The Oxford Editor, imagining that the speaker had here englished his own cant phrase of miching malicho, tells us (by his glossary) that it signifies mischief lying hid, and that malicho is the Spanish malheco; whereas it signifies, Lying in wait for the poisoner. Which, the speaker tells us, was the very purpose of this representation. It should therefore be read malhechor Spanish, the poisoner. So mich signified, originally, to keep hid and out of sight; and, as such men generally did it for the purposes of lying in wait, it then signified to rob. And in this sense Shakespeare uses the noun, a micher, when speaking of prince Henry amongst a gang of robbers. Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher? Shall the son of England prove a thief? And in this sense it is used by Chaucer, in his translation of Le Roman de la Rose, where he turns the word lierre (which is larron, voleur) by micher. Warburton. I think Hanmer's exposition most likely to be right. Dr. Warburton, to justify his interpretation, must write, miching for malechor, and even then it will be harsh. Johnson. Dr. Warburton is right in his explanation of the word miching. So, in the Raging Turk, 1631: “&lblank; wilt thou, envious dotard, “Strangle my greatness in a miching hole?” Again, in Stanyhurst's Virgil, 1582: “&lblank; wherefore thus vainely in land Lybye mitche you?” The quarto reads—munching mallico. Steevens. Miching, secret, covered, lying hid. In this sense Chapman, our author's cotemporary, uses the world in The Widow's Tears, Dods. Old Pl. vol. iv. p. 291. Lysander, to try his wife's fidelity, elopes from her: his friends report that he is dead, and make a mock funeral for him: his wife, to shew excessive sorrow for the loss of her husband, shuts herself up in his monument; to which he comes in disguise, and obtains her love, notwithstanding he had assured her in the mean time, that he was the man who murdered her husband. On which he exclaims, &lblank; Out upon the monster! Go tell the governour, let me be brought To die for that most famous villany; Not for this miching base transgression Of truant negligence. &lblank; And again, p. 301. &lblank; My truant Was micht, sir, into a blind corner of the tomb. In this very sense it occurs in the Philaster of Beaumont and Fletcher, vol. i. p. 142. “A rascal miching in a meadow.” That is, as the ingenious editors (who have happily substituted mitching for milking) remark, “A lean deer, creeping, solitary, and withdrawn from the herd.” Warton.

Note return to page 659 6&lblank; Be not you asham'd to shew, &c.] The conversation of Hamlet with Ophelia, which cannot fail to disgust every modern reader, is probably such as was peculiar to the young and fashionable of the age of Shakespeare, which was, by no means, an age of delicacy. The poet is, however, blameable; for extravagance of thought, not indecency of expression, is the characteristic of madness, at least of such madness as should be represented on the scene. Steevens.

Note return to page 660 7&lblank; cart] A chariot was anciently so called. Thus Chaucer in the Knight's Tale, late edit. ver. 2024: The carter overridden with his cart. Steevens.

Note return to page 661 8&lblank; sheen] Splendor, lustre. Johnson.

Note return to page 662 9&lblank; even as they love.] Here seems to be a line lost, which should have rhymed to love. Johnson. This line is omitted in the folios. Perhaps a triplet was designed, and then instead of love, we should read, lust. The folio gives the next line thus: “For women's fear and love holds quantity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 663 1And as my love is fix'd, my fear is so.] Mr. Pope says, I read siz'd; and, indeed, I do so; because, I observe, the quarto of 1605 reads, ciz'd; that of 1611, cizst; the folio in 1632, siz; and that in 1623, siz'd: and because, besides, the whole tenor of the context demands this reading: for the lady evidently is talking here of the quantity and proportion of her love and fear; not of their continuance, duration, or stability. Cleopatra expresses herself much in the same manner, with regard to her grief for the loss of Antony: &lblank; our size of sorrow, Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it. Theobald.

Note return to page 664 2Where love, &c.] These two lines are omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 665 3&lblank; operant powers] Operant is active. Shakespeare gives it in Timon as an epithet to poison. Heywood has likewise used it in his Royal King and Loyal Subject, 1637: “&lblank; may my operant parts “Each one forget their office!” The word is now obsolete. Steevens.

Note return to page 666 4The instances, &lblank;] The motives. Johnson.

Note return to page 667 5&lblank; what to ourselves is debt:] The performance of a resolution, in which only the resolver is interested, is a debt only to himself, which he may therefore remit at pleasure. Johnson.

Note return to page 668 6The violence of either grief or joy, Their own enactures with themselves destroy:] What grief or joy enact or determine in their violence, is revoked in their abatement. Enactures is the word in the quarto; all the modern editions have enactors. Johnson.

Note return to page 669 7To desperation, &c.] This and the following line are omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 670 8An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!] May my whole liberty and enjoyment be to live on hermit's fare in a prison. Anchor is for anchoret. Johnson. This abbreviation of the word anchoret is very ancient. I find it in the Romance of Robert the Devil, printed by Wynkyn de Worde: “We have robbed and killed nonnes, holy aunkers, preestes, clerkes, &c.” Again, “the foxe will be an aunker for he begynneth to preche.” Again, in The Vision of Pierce Plowman: “As ankers and hermits that hold hem in her selles.” This and the foregoing line are not in the folio. I believe we should read—anchor's chair. So, in the second Satire of Hall's fourth book edit. 1602, p. 18: “Sit seven yeares pining in an anchore's cheyre “To win some parched shreds of minevere.” Steevens.

Note return to page 671 9The mouse-trap.] He calls it the mouse-trap, because it is—the thing In which he'll catch the conscience of the king. Steevens.

Note return to page 672 1Baptista is, I think, in Italian, the name always of a man.

Note return to page 673 2Let the gall'd jade wince, &c.] This is a proverbial saying. So, in Damon and Pythias, 1582: “I know the gall'd horse will soonest wince.” Steevens.

Note return to page 674 3Ham. I could interpret, &c.] This refers to the interpreter, who formerly sat on the stage at all motions or puppet-shews, and interpreted to the audience. So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Oh excellent motion! oh exceeding puppet! “Now will he interpret for her.” Again, in Greene's Groatsworth of Wit, 1621: “&lblank; It was I that penn'd the moral of man's wit, the dialogue of Dives, and for seven years' space was absolute interpreter of the puppets.” Steevens.

Note return to page 675 4Still better, and worse.] i. e. better in regard to the wit of your double entendre, but worse in respect of the grossness of your meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 676 5So you mistake your husbands.] Read, So you must take your husbands; that is, for better, for worse. Johnson. Theobald proposed the same reading in his Shakespeare Restored, however he lost it afterwards. Steevens. “So you mistake your husbands.” I believe this to be right: the word is sometimes used in this ludicrous manner. “Your true trick, rascal (says Ursula in Bartholomew Fair) must be to be ever busie, and mistake away the bottles and cans, before they be half drunk off.” Farmer. Again, in Ben Jonson's Masque of Augurs: “&lblank; To mistake six torches from the chandry, and give them one.” Again, in the Elder Brother of Fletcher: “I fear he will persuade me to mistake him.” Steevens. I believe the meaning is—you do amiss for yourselves to take husbands for the worse. You should take them only for the better. Tollet.

Note return to page 677 6What! frighted with false fire!] This speech is omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 678 7Lights, lights, lights!] The quartos give this speech to Polonius. Steevens.

Note return to page 679 8&lblank; turn Turk with me] This expression has occurred already in Much Ado about Nothing, and I have met with it in several old comedies. So, in Greene's Tu Quoque, 1599: “This it is to turn Turk, from an absolute and most compleat gentleman, to a most absurd, ridiculous, and fond lover.” It means, I believe no more than to change condition fantastically. Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “&lblank; 'tis damnation, “If you turn Turk again.” Perhaps the phrase had its rise from some popular story like that of Ward and Dansiker, the two famous pirates; an account of whose overthrow was published by A. Barker 1609; and, in 1612, a play was written on the same subject called A Christian turn'd Turk. Steevens.

Note return to page 680 9Provincial roses] Why provincial roses? Undoubtedly we should read Provencial, or (with the French ç) Provençal. He means roses of Provence, a beautiful species of rose, and formerly much cultivated. Warton. &lblank; with two provincial roses on my rayed shoes,] When shoestrings shoes,] When shoestrings were worn, they were covered, where they met in the middle, by a ribband, gathered into the form of a rose. So, in an old song: “Gil-de-Roy was a bonny boy, “Had roses tull his shoon.” Rayed shoes, are shoes braided in lines. Johnson. These roses are often mentioned by our ancient dramatic writers. So, in the Devil's Law-case, 1623: “With over-blown roses to hide your gouty ancles.” Again, in the Roaring Girl, 1611: “&lblank; many handsome legs in silk stockings have villainous splay feet, for all their great roses.” The reading of the quartos is raz'd shoes; that of the folio rac'd shoes. Probably the poet wrote raised shoes, i. e. shoes with high heels; such as by adding to the stature, are supposed to increase the dignity of the player. In Stubbs's Anatomie of Abuses 1595, there is a chapter on the corked shoes in England, “which (he says) beare them up two inches or more from the ground, &c. some of red, blacke, &c. razed, carved, cut, and stitched, &c.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. 9. ch. 47: “Then wore they shoes of ease, now of an inch-broad, corked high.” Stowe's Chronicle, anno 1353, mentions women's hoods reyed or striped. Raie is the French word for a stripe. Johnson's Collection of Ecclesiastical Laws informs us, under the years 1222 and 1353, that in disobedience of the canon, the clergy's shoes were checquered with red and green, exceeding long, and variously pinked. The reading of the quartos may likewise be supported. Bulwer, in his Artificial Changeling, speaks of gallants who pink and raze their satten damask, and Duretto skins. To raze and to race, alike signify to streak. See Minshew's Dict. The word is used in the same signification in Markham's Country Farm. p. 585. “&lblank; baking all (i. e. wafer cakes) together between two irons, having within them many raced and checkered draughts after the manner of small squares.” It should be remembered that ray'd is the conjecture of Mr. Pope. Steevens.9Q1185

Note return to page 681 1&lblank; a cry of players,] Allusion to a pack of hounds. Warburton. A pack of hounds was once called a cry of hounds. So, in the Two Noble Kinsmen, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; and well have halloo'd “To a deep cry of hounds.” Again, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “&lblank; a cry more tunable “Was never hallood to or cheer'd with horn.” Milton, likewise, has—“A cry of hell-hounds &lblank;”. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1186

Note return to page 682 2&lblank; O Damon dear,] Hamlet calls Horatio by this name, in allusion to the celebrated friendship between Damon and Pythias. A play on this subject was written by Rich. Edwards, and published in 1582. Steevens.

Note return to page 683 3A very, very—peacock.] This alludes to a fable of the birds choosing a king, instead of the eagle, a peacock. Pope. The old copies have it paiock, paicocke, and pajocke. I substitute paddock, as nearest to the traces of the corrupted reading. I have, as Mr. Pope says, been willing to substitute any thing in the place of his peacock. He thinks a fable alluded to, of the birds choosing a king; instead of the eagle, a peacock. I suppose, he must mean the fable of Barlandus, in which it is said, the birds, being weary of their state of anarchy, moved for the setting up of a king; and the peacock was elected on account of his gay feathers. But, with submission, in this passage of our Shakespeare, there is not the least mention made of the eagle in antithesis to the peacock; and it must be by a very uncommon figure, that Jove himself stands in the place of his bird. I think, Hamlet is setting his father's and uncle's characters in contrast to each other: and means to say, that by his father's death the state was stripp'd of a godlike monarch, and that now in his stead reign'd the most despicable poisonous animal that could be; a mere paddock, or toad. P A D, bufo, rubeia major; a toad. This word, I take to be of Hamlet's own substituting. The verses, repeated, seem to be from some old ballad; in which, rhyme being necessary, I doubt not but the last verse ran thus: A very, very—ass. Theobald. A peacock seems proverbial for a fool. Thus Gascoigne in his Weeds: “A theefe, a cowarde, and a peacocke foole.” Farmer. I believe paddock to be the true reading. In the last scene of this act, Hamlet, speaking of the king, uses the same expression: “Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, “Such dear concernments hide?” Malone.

Note return to page 684 4Why, then, belike &lblank;] Hamlet was going on to draw the consequence, when the courtiers entered. Johnson.

Note return to page 685 5&lblank; he likes it not, perdy.] Perdy is a corruption of par Dieu, and is not uncommon in the old plays. So, in The Play of the Four P's, 1569: “In that, you Palmer, as deputie, “May cleerly discharge him pardie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 686 6With drink, sir?] Hamlet takes particular care that his uncle's love of drink shall not be forgotten. Johnson.

Note return to page 687 7&lblank; further trade &lblank;] Further business; further dealing. Johnson.

Note return to page 688 8&lblank; by these pickers, &c.] By these hands. Johnson.

Note return to page 689 9&lblank; Recorders.] i. e. a kind of flute. In The Antipodes, a comedy, by Brome, 1638, is “A solemn lesson upon the recorders.” Again, in Sidney's Arcadia: “&lblank; the other shepherds pulling out recorders, which possess'd the place of pipes, &c.” Again, in the old enterlude of the Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567: “If that you can play upon the recorder, “I have as faire a one as any is in this border: “Truely you have not seene a more goodlie pipe.” To record, anciently signified to sing or modulate. Steevens.

Note return to page 690 1O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.] i. e. 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. Warburton. I believe we should read—my love is not unmannerly. My conception of this passage is, that, in consequence of Hamlet's moving to take the recorder, Guildenstern also shifts his ground, in order to place himself beneath the prince in his new position. This Hamlet ludicrously calls “going about to recover the wind, &c.” and Guildenstern may answer properly enough, I think, and like a courtier; “if my duty to the king makes me too bold in pressing you upon a disagreeable subject, my love to you will make me not unmannerly, in shewing you all possible marks of respect and attention.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 691 2&lblank; ventages &lblank;] The holes of a flute. Johnson.

Note return to page 692 3&lblank; and thumb, &lblank;] The first quarto reads—with your fingers and the umber. This may probably be the ancient name for that piece of moveable brass at the end of a flute, which is either raised or depressed by the finger. The word umber is used by Stowe the chronicler, who, describing a single combat between two knights— says, “he brast up his umber three times.” Here, the umber means the visor of the helmet. So, in Spenser's Faery Queene, b. 3. c. 1. ft. 42:   “But the brave maid would not disarmed be,   “But only vented up her umbriere, “And so did let her goodly visage to appere.” Again, b. 4. c. 4: “And therewith smote him on his umbriere.” Again, in the second book of Lidgate on the Trojan War, 1513: “Thorough the umber into Troylus' face.” Steevens. If a recorder had a brass key like the German Flute, we are to follow the reading of the quarto; for then the thumb is not concerned in the government of the ventages or stops. If a recorder was like a labourer's pipe, which has no brass key, but has a stop for the thumb, we are to read—Govern these ventages with your finger and thumb. In Cotgrave's Dictionary, ombre, ombraire, embriere, and ombrelle, are all from the Latin umbra, and signify a shadow, an umbrella, or any thing that shades or hides the face from the sun; and hence they may have been applied to any thing that hides or covers another; as for example, they may have been applied to the brass key that covers the hole in the German flute. So Spenser used umbriere for the visor of the helmet, as Rous's history of the Kings of England uses umbrella in the same sense. Tollet.

Note return to page 693 4Methinks, &c.] This passage has been printed in modern editions thus: Methinks it is like an ouzle, &c. Pol. It is black like an ouzle. The first folio reads, it is like a weazel. Pol. It is back'd like a weasel &lblank;: and what occasion for alteration there was, I cannot discover. The weasel is remarkable for the length of its back; but though I believe a black weasel is not easy to be found, yet it is as likely that the cloud should resemble a weasel in shape, as an ouzel (i. e. black-bird) in colour. Mr. Tollet observes, that we might read—“it is beck'd like a weasel,” i. e. weasel-snouted. So, in Holinshed's Description of England, p. 172: “if he be wesell-becked.” Quarles uses this term of reproach in his Virgin Widow: “Go you weazel-snouted, addle-pated, &c.” Mr. Tollet adds, that Milton in his Lycidas, calls a promontory beaked, i. e. prominent like the beak of a bird. Steevens.

Note return to page 694 5They fool me to the top of my bent &lblank;] They compel me to play the fool, till I can endure to do it no longer. Johnson.

Note return to page 695 6And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to lock on. &lblank;] The expression is almost burlesque. The old quarto reads, And do such business as the bitter day Would quake to look on. &lblank; This is a little corrupt indeed, but much nearer Shakespeare's words, who wrote, &lblank; better day, which gives the sentiment great force and dignity. At this very time (says he) hell breathes out contagion to the world, whereby night becomes polluted and execrable; the horror therefore of this season fits me for a deed, which the pure and sacred day would quake to look on. This is said with great classical propriety. According to ancient superstition, night was prophane and execrable; and day, pure and holy. Warburton. And do such bitter business &lblank;] The expression bitter business is still in use, and though at present a vulgar phrase, might not have been such in the age of Shakespeare. The bitter day is the day rendered hateful or bitter by the commission of some act of mischief. Watts, in his Logic, says: “Bitter is an equivocal word; there is bitter wormwood, there are bitter words, there are bitter enemies, and a bitter cold morning.” It is, in short, any thing unpleasing or hurtful. Steevens.

Note return to page 696 7I will speak daggers to her,] A similar expression occurs in the Return from Parnassus: “They are pestilent fellows, they speak nothing but bodkins.” It has been already observed, that a bodkin anciently signified a short dagger. Steevens.

Note return to page 697 8&lblank; be shent,] To shend, is to reprove harshly, to treat with injurious language. So, in The Coxcomb of B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; We shall be shent soundly.” Again, in David and Bethsabe, 1599: “And sing his praise who shendeth David's fame.” Again, in &grT;&grE;&grX;&grN;&grO;&grG;&grA;&grM;&grI;&grA;, 1618: “I had rather undertake my performed journey about the world, than thou shouldst be shent for me.” Again, in Cupid's Whirligig, 1633: “I shall be shent for letting you in.” Again, in Lylly's Endymion, 1591: “I could stay all day with him, if I feared not to be shent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 698 9To give them seals &lblank;] i. e. put them in execution. Warburton.

Note return to page 699 1Out of his lunacies.] The old quartos read, Out of his brows. This was from the ignorance of the first editors; as is this unnecessary Alexandrine, which we owe to the players. The poet, I am persuaded, wrote, &lblank; as doth hourly grow Out of his lunes. i. e. his madness, frenzy. Theobald. Lunacies is the reading of the folio. I take brows to be, properly read, frows, which, I think, is a provincial word for perverse humours; which being, I suppose, not understood, was changed to lunacies. But of this I am not confident. Johnson. I would receive Theobald's emendation, because Shakespeare uses the word lunes in the same sense in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and The Winter's Tale. From the redundancy of the measure nothing can be inferred. Since this part of my note was written, I have met with an instance in support of Dr. Johnson's conjecture: “&lblank; were you but as favourable as you are frowish &lblank;” Tully's love, by Greene, 1616. Perhaps, however, Shakespeare designed a metaphor from horned cattle, whose powers of being dangerous, encrease with the growth of their brows. Steevens.

Note return to page 700 2That spirit, upon whose weal &lblank;] So the quarto. The folio gives, That spirit, upon whose spirit &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 701 3Since nature makes them partial, &c.] “&lblank; Matres omnes filiis “In peccato adjutrices, auxilii in paterna injuria “Solent esse.” &lblank; Ter. Heaut. Act. 5. Sc. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 702 4&lblank; of vantage.] By some opportunity of secret observation. Johnson.

Note return to page 703 5Though inclination be as sharp as will;] Dr. Warburton would read, Though inclination be as sharp as th' ill. The old reading is—as sharp as will. Steevens. I have followed the easier emendation of Theobald received by Hanmer: i. e. as 'twill. Johnson. Will is command, direction. Thus, Ecclus. xliii. 16. “&lblank; and at his will the south wind bloweth.” The king says, his mind is in too great confusion to pray, even though his inclination were as strong as the command which requires that duty. Steevens.

Note return to page 704 6May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence?] He that does not amend what can be amended, retains his offence. The king kept the crown from the right heir. Johnson.

Note return to page 705 7Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?] What can repentance do for a man that cannot be penitent, for a man who has only part of penitence, distress of conscience, without the other part, resolution of amendment? Johnson.

Note return to page 706 8O, limed soul; &lblank;] This alludes to bird-lime. Shakespeare uses the same word again, Henry VI. P. ii. “Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her.” Steevens.

Note return to page 707 9&lblank; pat, now he is praying;] Thus the folio. The quartos read—but now, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 708 1&lblank; That would be scann'd:] i. e. that should be considered, estimated. Steevens.

Note return to page 709 2I, his sole son, do this same villain send] The folio reads foule son, a reading apparently corrupted from the quarto. The meaning is plain. I, his only son, who am bound to punish his murderer. Johnson.

Note return to page 710 3&lblank; hire and salary,] Thus the folio. The quartos read—base and silly. Steevens.

Note return to page 711 4Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent;] In the common editions, Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid time.] This is a sophisticated reading, warranted by none of the copies of any authority. Mr. Pope says, I read conjecturally: &lblank; a more horrid bent. I do so; and why? the two oldest quartos, as well as the two elder folios, read: &lblank; a more horrid hent. But as there is no such English substantive, it seems very natural to conclude, that with the change of a single letter, our author's genuine word was, bent; i. e. drift, scope, inclination, purpose, &c. Theobald. This reading is followed by Sir T. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton; but hent is probably the right word. To hent is used by Shakespeare for, to seize, to catch, to lay hold on. Hent is, therefore, hold, or seizure. Lay hold on him, sword, at a more horrid time. Johnson.

Note return to page 712 5When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage; Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed;] So, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: Didst thou not kill him drunk? Thou shouldst, or in th' embraces of his lust. Steevens.

Note return to page 713 6&lblank; that his heels may kick at heaven;] So, in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “Whose heels tript up, kick'd gainst the firmament.” Steevens.

Note return to page 714 7As hell, whereto it goes. &lblank;] This speech, in which Hamlet, represented as a virtuous character, is not content with taking blood for blood, but contrives damnation for the man that he would punish, is too horrible to be read or to be uttered. Johnson. The same fiend-like disposition is shewn by Lodowick, in Webster's Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “&lblank; to have poison'd “The handle of his racket. O, that, that! &lblank; “That while he had been bandying at tennis, “He might have sworn himself to hell, and struck “His soul into the hazard!” Again, in The Honest Lawyer, 1616: “I then should strike his body with his soul, “And sink them both together.” Again, in the third of Beaumont and Fletcher's Four Plays in one: “No, take him dead drunk now without repentance.” Steevens. The same horrid thought has been adopted by Lewis Machin, in the Dumb Knight, 1633: “Nay, but be patient, smooth your brow a little, “And you shall take them as they clip each other, “Even in the height of sin; then damn them both, “And let them stink before they ask God pardon, “That your revenge may stretch unto their souls.” Malone.

Note return to page 715 8&lblank; I'll silence me e'en here: Pray you, be round with him.] Sir T. Hanmer, who is followed by Dr. Warburton, reads, &lblank; I'll sconce me here. Retire to a place of security. They forget that the contrivance of Polonius to overhear the conference, was no more told to the queen than to Hamlet.—I'll silence me even here, is, I'll use no more words. Johnson.

Note return to page 716 9How now, a rat? &lblank;] This (as Dr. Farmer has observed) is an expression borrowed from The Historye of Hamblett, a translation from the French of Belleforest. Steevens.

Note return to page 717 1As kill a king?] This interrogation may be considered as some hint, that the queen had no hand in the murder of Hamlet's father. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1192

Note return to page 718 2&lblank; takes off the rose] Alluding to the custom of wearing roses on the side of the face. See a note on a passage in King John, Act I. Warburton. I believe Dr. Warburton is mistaken; for it must be allowed that there is a material difference between an ornament worn on the forehead, and one exhibited on the side of the face. Some have understood these words to be only a metaphorical enlargement of the sentiment contained in the preceding line: &lblank; blurs the grace and blush of modesty: but as the forehead is no proper situation for a blush to be displayed in, we may have recourse to another explanation. It was once the custom for those who were betrothed, to wear some flower as an external and conspicuous mark of their mutual engagement. So, in Spenser's Shepherds' Calendar for April: “Bring coronations and sops in wine Worn of paramours.” Lyte, in his Herbal, 1578, enumerates sops in wine among the smaller kind of single gilliflowers or pinks. Figure 4, in the Morrice-dance (a plate of which is annexed to the First Part of K. Henry IV.) has a flower fixed on his forehead, and seems to be meant for the paramour of the female character. The flower might be designed for a rose, as the colour of it is red in the painted glass, though its form is expressed with as little adherence to nature as that of the marygold in the hand of the lady. It may, however, conduct us to affix a new meaning to the lines in question. This flower, as I have since discovered, is exactly shaped like the sops in wine, now called the Deptford Pink. Sets a blister there, has the same meaning as in Measure for Measure: Who falling in the flaws of her own youth, Hath blister'd her report. See a note on this passage, Act 2. Sc. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 719 3&lblank; from the body of contraction &lblank;] Contraction for marriage contract. Warburton.

Note return to page 720 4&lblank; Heaven's face doth glow; Yea, this solidity and compound mass, With tristful visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act.] If any sense can be found here, it is this. The sun glows [and does it not always?] and the very solid mass of earth has a tristful visage, and is thought-sick. All this is sad stuff. The old quarto reads much nearer to the poet's sense: Heaven's face does glow, O'er this solidity and compound mass, With heated visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act. From whence it appears, that Shakespeare wrote: Heaven's face doth glow, O'er this solidity and compound mass, With tristful visage; and, as 'gainst the doom, Is thought-sick at the act. This makes a fine sense, and to this effect. The sun looks upon our globe, the scene of this murder, with an angry and mournful countenance, half hid in eclipse, as at the day of doom. Warburton. The word heated, though it agrees well enough with glow, is, I think, not so striking as tristful, which was, I suppose, chosen at the revisal. I believe the whole passage now stands as the author gave it. Dr. Warburton's reading restores two improprieties, which Shakespeare, by his alteration, had removed. In the first, and in the new reading, Heaven's face glows with tristful visage; and, Heavens's face is thought-sick. To the common reading there is no just objection. Johnson.

Note return to page 721 5That roars so loud, &c.] The meaning is, What is this act, of which the discovery, or mention, cannot be made, but with this violence of clamour? Johnson. &lblank; and thunders in the index?] Mr. Edwards observes, that the indexes of many old books were at that time inserted at the beginning, instead of the end, as is now the custom. This observation I have often seen confirmed. So, in Othello, Act 2. Sc. 7.—an index and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts. Steevens.

Note return to page 722 6Look on this picture, and on this;] It is evident from the following words, A station, like the herald Mercury, &c. that these pictures, which are introduced as miniatures on the stage, were meant for whole lengths, being part of the furniture of the queen's closet. &lblank; like Maia's son he stood, And shook his plumes. &lblank; Milton, B. V. Steevens.

Note return to page 723 7Hyperion's curls; &lblank;] It is observable that Hyperion is used by Spenser with the same error in quantity. Farmer. I have never met with an earlier edition of Marston's Insatiate Countess than that in 1603. In this the following lines occur, which bear a close resemblance to Hamlet's description of his father: “A donative he hath of every god; “Apollo gave him locks, Jove his high front.” Steevens.

Note return to page 724 8A station &lblank;] Station in this instance does not mean the spot where any one is placed, but the act of standing. So, in Antony and Cleopatra, Act 3. Sc. 3: Her motion and her station are as one. On turning to Theobald's first edition, I find that he had made the same remark, and supported it by the same instance. The observation is necessary, for otherwise the compliment designed to the attitude of the king, would be bestowed on the place where Mercury is represented as standing. Steevens.

Note return to page 725 9&lblank; like a mildew'd ear, Blasting his wholesome brother.] This alludes to Pharaoth's Dream in the 41st chapter of Genesis. Steevens.

Note return to page 726 1&lblank; batten &lblank;] i. e. to grow fat. So, in Claudius Tiberius Nero, 1607: “&lblank; and for milk “I batten'd was with blood.” Again, in Marlow's Jew of Malta, 1633: “&lblank; make her round and plump, “And batten more than you are aware.” Bat is an ancient word for increase. Hence the adjective batful, so often used by Drayton in his Polyolbion. Steevens.

Note return to page 727 2The hey-day in the blood] This expression occurs in Ford's 'Tis Pity she's a Whore, 1633: “&lblank; must “The hey-day of your luxury be fed “Up to a surfeit?” Steevens.

Note return to page 728 3Sense, sure, you have, &lblank;] In former editions, &lblank; Sense, sure, you have, Else, could you not have motion: &lblank;] But from what philosophy our editors learnt this, I cannot tell. Since motion depends so little upon sense, that the greatest part of motion in the universe, is amongst bodies devoid of sense. We should read, Else, could you not have notion, i. e. intellect, reason, &c. This alludes to the famous peripatetic principle of, Nil sit in intellectu, quod non fuerit in sensu. And how fond our author was of applying, and alluding to, the principles of this philosophy, we have given several instances. The principle in particular has been since taken for the foundation of one of the noblest works that these latter ages have produced. Warburton. The whole passage is wanting in the folio; and whichsoever of the readings be the true one, the poet was not indebted to this boasted philosophy for his choice. Steevens. Motion is frequently used, by Shakespeare and others, for impulse of nature,—libidinous inclination. Taking it in this sense, the passage is sufficiently intelligible without any alteration. So, in Othello: “&lblank; we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts.” Again, in Cymbeline; “&lblank; for there's no motion “That tends to vice in man, but I affirm “It is the woman's part.” Again, in Brathwaite's Survey of Histories, 1614: “These continent relations will reduce thy stragling motions to a more settled and retired harbour.” Malone.

Note return to page 729 4&lblank; at hoodman-blind?] This is, I suppose, the same as blindmans-buff. So, in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1626: “And ever since hath shot at hoodman-blind.” Again, in the Two Maids of Moorclacke, 1609: “&lblank; was I bewitched, “That thus at hoodman-blind I dallied?” Again, in the Wise Woman of Hogsden, 1638: “Why should I play at hood-man-blind?” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1193

Note return to page 730 5Eyes without &c.] This and the three following lines are omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 731 6Could not so mope.] i. e. could not exhibit such marks of stupidity. The same word is used in the Tempest, Sc. ult.— And were brought moping hither.” Steevens.

Note return to page 732 7&lblank; Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutiny in a matron's bones, &c.] Alluding to what he had told her before, that her enormous conduct shewed a kind of possession. &lblank; What devil was't, That thus hath, &c. &lblank; And again afterwards: For use can almost change the stamp of nature, And master even the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency &lblank; But the Oxford Editor, not apprehending the meaning, alters it to &lblank; rebellious heat, If thou canst, &c. And so makes nonsense of it. For must not rebellious lust mutiny wherever it is quartered? That it should get there might seem strange, but that it should do its kind when it was there seems to be natural enough. Warburton. I think the present reading right, but cannot admit that Hanmer's emendation produces nonsense. May not what is said of heat, be said of hell, that it will mutiny wherever it is quartered? Though the emendation be elegant, it is not necessary. Jonhson.

Note return to page 733 8&lblank; mutiny] The old copies read mutine. Shakespeare calls mutineers—mutines, in a subsequent scene. Steevens.

Note return to page 734 9&lblank; reason panders will.] So the folio, I think rightly; but the reading of the quarto is defensible: &lblank; reason pardons will. Johnson.

Note return to page 735 1&lblank; grained &lblank;] Dyed in grain. Johnson.

Note return to page 736 2As will not leave their tinct.] The quartos read: “As will leave there their tinct.” Steevens.

Note return to page 737 3&lblank; incestuous bed;] The folio has enseamed, that is, greasy bed. Johnson. Beaumont and Fletcher use the word irseamed in the same sense, in the third of their Four Plays in one: “His leachery inscam'd upon him.” In the Book of Haukyng, &c. bl. l. no date, we are told that “Ensayme of a hauke is the grece.” In most places it means the grease or oil with which clothiers besmear their wool to make it draw out in spinning. Incestuous is the reading of the quarto, 1611. Steevens.

Note return to page 738 4&lblank; vice of kings!] a low mimick of kings. The vice is the fool of a farce; from whom the modern punch is descended. Johnson.

Note return to page 739 5That from a shelf, &c.] This is said not unmeaningly, but to shew, that the usurper came not to the crown by any glorious villainy that carried danger with it, but by the low cowardly theft of a common pilferer. Warburton.

Note return to page 740 6A king of shreds and patches:] This is said, pursuing the idea of the vice of kings. The vice was dressed as a fool, in a coat of party-coloured patches. Johnson.

Note return to page 741 7&lblank; laps'd in time and passion, &lblank;] That, having suffered time to slip, and passion to cool, lets go, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 742 8&lblank; like life in excrements.] The hairs are excrementitious, that is, without life or sensation; yet those very hairs, as if they had life, start up, &c. Pope.

Note return to page 743 9My father, in his habit as he liv'd!] If the poet means by this expression, that his father appeared in his own familiar habit, he has either forgot that he had originally introduced him in armour, or must have meant to vary his dress at this his last appearance. The difficulty might perhaps be a little obviated by pointing the line thus: My father—in his habit—as he liv'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 744 1Ecstasy!] Ecstasy in this place, and many others, means a temporary alienation of mind, a fit. So, in Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel, by John Hinde, 1606: “&lblank; that bursting out of an ecstasy wherein she had long stood, like one beholding Medusa's head, lamenting, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 745 2&lblank; do not spread the compost, &c.] Do not, by any new indulgence, heighten your former offences. Johnson.

Note return to page 746 3&lblank; curb &lblank;] That is, bend and trackle. Fr. courber. So, in Pierce Plowman: “Then I courbid on my knees, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 747 4That monster custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this;] This passage is left out in the two elder folios: it is certainly corrupt, and the players did the discreet part to stifle what they did not understand. Habit's devil certainly arose from some conceited tamperer with the text, who thought it was necessary, in contrast to angel. The emendation of the text I owe to the sagacity of Dr. Thirlby: That monster custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits evil, is angel, &c. Theobald. I think Thirlby's conjecture wrong, though the succeeding editors have followed it; angel and devil are evidently opposed. Johnson.

Note return to page 748 5&lblank; the next, more easy;] This passage, as far as potency, is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 749 6To punish him with me, &c.] This is Hanmer's reading; the other editions have it, To punish me with this, and this with me. Johnson.

Note return to page 750 7One word more, &c.] This passage I have restored from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 751 8Let the fond king &lblank;] The old quarto reads, Let the bloat king &lblank; i. e. bloated, which is better, as more expressive of the speaker's contempt. Warburton. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1194

Note return to page 752 9&lblank; his mouse;] Mouse was once a term of endearment. So, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. 2. chap. 10: “God bless thee mouse, the bridegroom said, &c.” Again, in the Menæchimi, 1595: “Shall I tell thee, sweet mouse? I never look upon thee, but I am quite out of love with my wife.” Steevens.

Note return to page 753 1&lblank; reechy kisses,] Reechy is smoky. The author meant to convey a coarse idea, and was not very scrupulous in his choice of an epithet. The same, however, is applied with greater propriety to the neck of a cook-maid in Coriolanus. Again, in Hans Beer Pot's Invisible Comedy, 1618: “&lblank; bade him go “And wash his face, he look'd so reechily, “Like bacon hanging on the chimney's roof.” Steevens.

Note return to page 754 2That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft. &lblank;] The reader will be pleased to see Dr. Farmer's extract from the old quarto Historie of Hamblet, of which he had a fragment only in his possession.—“It was not without cause, and juste occasion, that my gestures, countenances, and words, seeme to proceed from a madman, and that I desire to haue all men esteeme mee wholy depriued of sence and reasonable understanding, bycause I am well assured, that he that hath made no conscience to kill his owne brother (accustomed to murthers, and allured with desire of gouernement without controll in his treasons) will not spare to saue himselfe with the like crueltie, in the blood, and flesh of the loyns of his brother, by him massacred: and therefore it is better for me to fayne madnesse, then to use my right sences as nature hath bestowed them upon me. The bright shining clearnes thereof I am forced to hide vnder this shadow of dissimulation, as the sun doth hir beams vnder some great cloud, when the wether in summer time ouercasteth: the face of a madman serueth to couer my gallant countenance, and the gestures of a fool are fit for me, to the end that, guiding myself wisely therin, I may preserue my life for the Danes and the memory of my late deceased father, for that the desire of reuenging his death is so ingrauen in my heart, that if I dye not shortly, I hope to take such and so great vengeance, that these countryes shall for euer speake thereof. Neuerthelesse I must stay the time, meanes, and occasion, lest by making ouer great hast, I be now the cause of mine owne sodaine ruine and ouerthrow, and by that meanes end, before I beginne to effect my hearts desire: hee that hath to doe with a wicked, disloyall, cruell, and discourteous man, must vse craft, and politike inuentions, such as a fine witte can best imagine, not to discouer his interprise: for seeing that by force I cannot effect my desire, reason alloweth me by dissimulation, subtiltie, and secret practises to proceed therein.” Steevens.

Note return to page 755 2&lblank; a gib,] So, in Drayton's Epistle from Elinor Cobham to Duke Humphrey: “And call me beldam, gib, witch, night-mare, trot.” Gib was a common name for a cat. So, in Chaucer's Rom. of the Rose, ver. 6204: “&lblank; gibbe our cat, “That waiteth mice and rats to killen.” Steevens.

Note return to page 756 3Unpeg the basket on the house's top, Let the birds fly; &lblank;] Sir John Suckling, in one of his letters, may possibly allude to the same story. “It is the story of the jackanapes and the partridges; thou starest after a beauty till it is lost to thee, and then let'st out another, and starest after that till it is gone too.” Warner.

Note return to page 757 4To try conclusions,] i. e. experiments. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “She has pursu'd conclusions infinite “Of easy ways to die.” Steevens.

Note return to page 758 5There's letters seal'd. &c.] The nine following verses are added out of the old edition. Pope.

Note return to page 759 6&lblank; adders fang'd,] That is, adders with their fangs, or poisonous teeth, undrawn. It has been the practice of mountebanks to boast the efficacy of their antidotes by playing with vipers, but they first disabled their fangs. Johnson.

Note return to page 760 7Hoist &c.] Hoist for hoised; as past for passed. Steevens.

Note return to page 761 8&lblank; the guts &lblank;] The word guts was not anciently so offensive to delicacy as it is at present; but was used by Lylly (who made the first attempt to polish our language) in his serious Compositions. So, in his Mydas, 1592: “Could not the treasure of Phrygia, nor the tributes or Greece, nor mountains in the East, whose guts are gold, satisfy thy mind?” In short, guts was used where we now use entrails. Stanyhurst often has it in his translation of Virgil, 1582: Pectoribus inhians spirantia consulit exta. “She weens her fortune by guts hoate smoakye to conster.” Steevens.

Note return to page 762 9Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you:] Shakespeare has been unfortunate in his management of the story of this play, the most striking circumstances of which arise so early in its formation, as not to leave him room for a conclusion suitable to the importance of its beginning. After this last interview with the Ghost, the character of Hamlet has lost all its consequence. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 1Act IV.] This play is printed in the old editions without any separation of the acts. The division is modern and arbitrary; and is here not very happy, for the pause is made at a time when there is more continuity of action than in almost any other of the scenes. Johnson.

Note return to page 764 2Bestow this place on us a little while.] This line is wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 765 3&lblank; my good lord,] The quartos read—mine own lord. Steevens.

Note return to page 766 4&lblank; out of haunt,] I would rather read, out of harm. Johnson. Out of haunt, means out of company. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Dido and her Sichæus shall want troops, “And all the haunt be ours.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, book 5. chap. 26: “And from the smith of heaven's wife allure the amorous haunt.” The place where men assemble, is often poetically called the haunt of men. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “We talk here in the public haunt of men.” Steevens.

Note return to page 767 5&lblank; like some ore] Shakespeare seems to think ore to be or, that is, gold. Base metals have ore no less than precious. Johnson.

Note return to page 768 6Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports its poison'd shot, may miss our name, And hit the woundless air.—O, come away!] Mr. Pope takes notice, that I replace some verses that were imperfect (and, though of a modern date, seem to be genuine), by inserting two words. But to see what an accurate and faithful collator he is, I produced these verses in my Shakespeare Restored, from a quarto edition of Hamlet, printed in 1637, and happened to say, that they had not the authority of any earlier date in print, that I knew of, than that quarto. Upon the strength of this Mr. Pope comes and calls the lines modern, though they are in the quartos of 1605 and 1611, which I had not then seen, but both of which Mr. Pope pretends to have collated. The verses carry the very stamp of Shakespeare upon them. The coin, indeed, has been clipt from our first receiving it; but it is not so diminished, but that with a small assistance we may hope to make it pass current. I am far from affirming, that, by inserting the words, For haply, slander, I have given the poet's very words; but the supplement is such as the sentiment naturally seems to demand. The poet has the same thought, concerning the diffusive powers of slander, in another of his plays: “&lblank; No, 'tis slander; “Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue “Out-venoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath “Rides on the posting winds, and doth bely “All corners of the world.” Cymbeline. Theobald.

Note return to page 769 7&lblank; But soft,] I have added these two words from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 770 8&lblank; like an ape, &lblank;] The quarto has apple, which is generally followed. The folio has ape, which Hanmer has received, and illustrated with the following note. “It is the way of monkeys in eating, to throw that part of their food, which they take up first, into a pouch they are provided with on the side of their jaw, and then they keep it, till they have done with the rest.” Johnson. Surely this should be “like an ape an apple.” Farmer.

Note return to page 771 9The body is with the king, &lblank;] This answer I do not comprehend. Perhaps it should be, The body is not with the king, for the king is not with the body. Johnson. Perhaps it may mean this. The body is in the king's house (i. e. the present king's) yet the king (i. e. he who should have been king) is not with the body. Intimating that the usurper is here, the true king in a better place. Or it may mean—the guilt of the murder lies with the king, but the king is not where the body lies. The affected obscurity of Hamlet must excuse so many attempts to procure something like a meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 772 1Of nothing. &lblank;] Should it not be read, Or nothing? When the courtiers remark, that Hamlet has contemptuously called the king a thing, Hamlet defends himself by observing, that the king must be a thing, or nothing. Johnson. The text is right. So, in the Spanish tragedy: “In troth, my lord, it is a thing of nothing.” And, in one of Harvey's letters, “a silly bug-beare, a sorry puffe of winde, a thing of nothing.” Farmer. So, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “At what dost thou laugh? “At a thing of nothing, at thee.” Again, in Look about you, 1600: “And believe a little thing would please her, “A very little thing, a thing of nothing.” Again, in the Interlude of Jacob and Esau, 1568: “But a matter of a straw, and a thing of nought.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Magnetic Lady: “A toy, a thing of nothing” Again, in Chapman's translation of the 9th Book of the Odyssey: “When now, a weakling came, a dwarfy thing, “A thing of nothing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 773 2Hide fox, &lblank;] There is a play among children called, Hide fox, and all after. Hanmer. The same sport is alluded to in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; our unhandsome-faced poet does play at bo-peep with your grace, and cries—All hid, as boys do.” This passage is not in the quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 774 3Alas, alas!] This speech, and the following, are omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 775 4With fiery quickness:] These words are not in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 776 5&lblank; the wind at help,] I suppose it should be read, The bark is ready, and the wind at helm. Johnson.

Note return to page 777 6&lblank; set by Our sov'reign process, &lblank;] So Hanmer. The others have only set. Johnson. &lblank; set Our sovereign process, &lblank;] I adhere to the reading of the quarto and folio. To set, is an expression taken from the gaming-table. Steevens.

Note return to page 778 7By letters conjuring &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quarto reads, “By letters congruing.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1196

Note return to page 779 7Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.] This being the termination of a scene, should, according to our author's custom, be rhymed. Perhaps he wrote, Howe'er my hopes, my joys are not begun. If haps be retained, the meaning will be, 'till I know 'tis done, I shall be miserable, whatever befall me. Johnson. The folio reads, in confirmation of Dr. Johnson's remark,— Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. Steevens.

Note return to page 780 8Craves] Thus the quartos. The folio—claims— Steevens.

Note return to page 781 9Good sir, &c.] The remaining part of this scene is omitted in the folios. Steevens.

Note return to page 782 1&lblank; chief good and market &lblank;] If his highest good, and that for which he sells his time, be to sleep and feed. Johnson.

Note return to page 783 2&lblank; large discourse,] Such latitude of comprehension, such power of reviewing the past, and anticipating the future. Johnson.

Note return to page 784 3&lblank; Rightly to be great, Is not to stir without, &c.] This passage I have printed according to the copy. Mr. Theobald had regulated it thus: &lblank; 'Tis not to be great, Never to stir without great argument; But greatly, &c. The sentiment of Shakespeare is partly just, and partly romantic. &lblank; Rightly to be great, Is not to stir without great argument; is exactly philosophical. But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, When honour is at stake, is the idea of a modern hero. But then, says he, honour is an argument, or subject of debate, sufficiently great, and when honour is at stake, we must find cause of quarrel in a straw. Johnson.

Note return to page 785 4Excitements of my reason and my blood,] Provocations which excite both my reason and my passions to vengeance. Johnson.

Note return to page 786 5&lblank; continent] Continent, in our author, means that which comprehends or encloses. So, in King Lear: “Rive your concealing continents.” Steevens.

Note return to page 787 6Spurns enviously at straws;] Envy is much oftener put by our poet (and those of his time) for direct aversion, than for malignity conceived at the sight of another's excellence or happiness. So in Henry VIII. Act I: “&lblank; No black envy “Shall make my grave.” &lblank; Again, Act 3: “You turn the good we offer into envy.” Again, in Herod and Antipater, 1622: “&lblank; although his words “Accus'd my Mariam, it is his sin, “Not person, that I envy.” Again, in God's Revenge against Murder, 1621, Hist. VI. “&lblank; She loves the memory of Sypontus, and envies and detests that of her two husbands.” Steevens.

Note return to page 788 7&lblank; to collection;] i. e. to deduce consequences from such premises. So, in Cymbeline, Scene the last: &lblank; whose containing Is so from sense to hardness, that I can Make no collection of it. See the note on this passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 789 8&lblank; they aim at it,] The quartos read—they yawn at it. To aim is to guess. Steevens.

Note return to page 790 9Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.] i. e. though her meaning cannot be certainly collected, yet there is enough to put a mischievous interpretation to it. Warburton. That unhappy once signified mischievous, may be known from P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. b. 19. ch. 7. “&lblank; the shrewd and unhappie foules which lie upon the lands, and eat up the seed new sowne.” We still use unlucky in the same sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 791 1'Twere good she were spoken with; &lblank;] These lines are given to the Queen in the folio, and to Horatio in the quarto. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1197

Note return to page 792 2&lblank; to some great amiss:] Shakespeare is not singular in his use of this word as a substantive. So, in the Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “Gracious forbearers of this world's amiss.” Again, in Lylly's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Pale be my looks to witness my amiss.” Again, in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher, &c. 1592: “&lblank; revive in them the memory of my great amiss.” Steevens.

Note return to page 793 3How should I your true love, &c.] There is no part of this play, in its representation on the stage, is more pathetic than this scene, which I suppose proceeds from the utter insensibility she has to her own misfortunes. A great sensibility, or none at all, seems to produce the same effect. In the latter the audience supply what she wants, and with the former they sympathize. Sir J. Reynolds.

Note return to page 794 4By his cockle hat and staff, And by his sandal shoon.] This is the description of a pilgrim. While this kind of devotion was in favour, love-intrigues were carried on under that mask. Hence the old ballads and novels made pilgrimages the subjects of their plots. The cockle-shell hat was one of the essential badges of this vocation: for the chief places of devotion being beyond sea, or on the coasts, the pilgrims were accustomed to put cockle-shells upon their hats, to denote the intention or performance of their devotion. Warburton. So, in Green's Never too late, 1616, a Pilgrim is described: “A hat of straw like to a swain, “Shelter for the sun and rain, “With a scallop-shell before, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 795 5Larded all with sweet flowers:] The expression is taken from cookery. Johnson.

Note return to page 796 6&lblank; did go,] The old editions read, &lblank;did not go. Steevens.

Note return to page 797 7&lblank; the owl was a baker's daughter.] This was a metamorphosis of the common people, arising from the mealy appearance of the owl's feathers, and her guarding the bread from mice. Warburton. To guard the bread from mice, is rather the office of a cat than an owl. In barns and granaries, indeed, the services of the owl are still acknowledged. This was, however, no metamorphosis of the common people, but a legendary story, which both Dr. Johnson and myself have read, yet in what book at least I cannot recollect. —Our Saviour being refused bread by the daughter of a baker, is described as punishing her by turning her into an owl. Steevens.

Note return to page 798 8To-morrow is, &c.] Without doubt, “Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day. Farmer.

Note return to page 799 9&lblank; don'd his cloaths. To don, is to do on, to put on, as doff is to do off, put off. Steevens.

Note return to page 800 1And dupt the chamber-door;] To dup, is to do up; to lift the latch. It were easy to write, And op'd &lblank; Johnson. To dup, was a common contraction of to do up. So, in Damon and Pythias, 1582: “&lblank; the porters are drunk, will they not dup the gate to-day?” Lord Surry, in his translation of the second Æneid, renders Panduntur portæ, &c. “The gates cast up, we issued out to play.” The phrase seems to have been adopted either from doing up the latch, or drawing up the portcullis. Again, in the Cooke's Play, in the Chester collection of mysteries, Ms. Harl. 1013, p. 140: “Open up hell-gates anon.” It appears from Martin Mark-all's Apologie to the Bel-man of London, 1610, that in the cant of gypsies, &c. Dup the gigger, signified to open the doore. Steevens.

Note return to page 801 2By Gis, &lblank;] I rather imagine it should be read, By Cis, &lblank; That is, by St. Cecily. Johnson. &lblank; by Saint Charity.] Saint Charity is a known saint among the Roman Catholics. Spenser mentions her, Eclog. 5. 255: “Ah dear lord, and sweet Saint Charity!” I find, by Gisse, used as an adjuration, both by Gascoigne in his Poems, by Preston in his Cambyses, and in the comedy of See me, and See me not, 1618. “By Gisse I swear, were I so fairly wed.” &c. Again, in K. Edward I. 1599: “By Gis, fair lords, ere many daies be past, &c.” Again, in Heywood's 23d Epigram, Fourth Hundred: “Nay, by Gis, he looketh on you maister, quoth he.” Again, in The Downfall of Rob. E. of Huntington, 1601: “Therefore, sweet master, for Saint Charity.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1198 By Gis &lblank; There is not the least mention of any saint whose name corresponds with this, either in the Roman Calendar, the service in Usum Sarum, or in the Benedictionary of Bishop Athelwold. I believe the word to be only a corrupted abbreviation of Jesus, the letters J. H. S. being anciently all that was set down to denote that sacred name, on altars, the covers of books, &c. Ridley.

Note return to page 802 3By cock.] This is likewise a corruption of the sacred name. Many instances of it are given in a note at the beginning of the 5th Act of the Second Part of K. Henry IV. Steevens.

Note return to page 803 4He answers.] These words I have added from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 804 5&lblank; but greenly,] But unskilfully; with greenness; that is without maturity of judgment. Johnson.

Note return to page 805 6In hugger-mugger to inter him; &lblank;] All the modern editions that I have consulted, give it, In private to inter him; &lblank; That the words now replaced are better, I do not undertake to prove; it is sufficient that they are Shakespeare's: if phraseology is to be changed as words grow uncouth by disuse, or gross by vulgarity, the history of every language will be lost; we shall no longer have the words of any author; and, as these alterations will be often unskilfully made, we shall in time have very little of his meaning. Johnson. This expression is used in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1609: “&lblank; he died like a politician “In hugger-mugger.” Shakespeare probably took the expression from the following passage in Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch.—“Antonius thinking that his body should be honourably buried, and not in hugger-mugger.” Again, in Harrington's Ariosto: So that it might be done in hugger-mugger. See also, B. 2. St. 13. It is likewise in Spenser's Mother Hubbard's Tale. Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “One word, Sir Quintilian, in hugger-mugger.” It appears from Greene's Groundwork of Coneycatching, 1592: that to hugger, was to lurk about. Steevens.

Note return to page 806 7Feeds on his wonder, &lblank;] The folio reads, Keeps on his wonder, &lblank; The quarto, Feeds on this wonder. &lblank; Thus the true reading is picked out from between them. Hanmer reads unnecessarily, Feeds on his anger. &lblank; Johnson.

Note return to page 807 8Wherein necessity, &c.] Hanmer reads, Whence animosity, of matter beggar'd. He seems not to have understood the connection. Wherein, that is, in which pestilent speeches, necessity, or, the obligation of an accuser to support his charge, will nothing stick, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 808 9Like to a murdering piece, &lblank;] Such a piece as assassins use, with many barrels. It is necessary to apprehend this, to see the justness of the similitude. Warburton. Like a murdering piece, &lblank;] This explanation of Dr. Warburton's is right; and a passage in The Double Marriage of Beaumont and Fletcher will justify it: “And, like a murdering piece, aims not at one, “But all that stand within the dangerous level.” Again, in All's lost by Lust, a tragedy, by Cyril Turner, 1633: “If thou fail'st too, the King comes with a murdering piece, “In the rear.” Again, in A Fair Quarrel, by Middleton and Rowley, 1622: “There is not such another murdering piece “In all the stock of calumny.” Steevens.

Note return to page 809 1Alack! &c.] This speech of the Queen is omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 810 2The ocean, over-peering of his list.] The lists are the barriers which the spectators of a tournament must not pass. Johnson.

Note return to page 811 3The ratifiers and props of every word;] The whole tenor of the context is sufficient to shew, that this is a mistaken reading. What can antiquity and custom, being the props of words, have to do with the business in hand? Or what idea is conveyed by it? Certainly the poet wrote: The ratifiers and props of every ward. The messenger is complaining that the riotous head had overborne the king's officers, and then subjoins, that antiquity and custom were forgot, which were the ratifiers and props of every ward, i. e. of every one of those securities that nature and law place about the person of a king. All this is rational and consequential. Warburton. With this emendation, which was in Theobald's edition, Hanmer was not satisfied. It is indeed harsh. Hanmer transposes the lines, and reads, They cry, “Chuse we Laertes for our king;” The ratifiers and props of every word, Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds. I think the fault may be mended at less expence, by reading, Antiquity forgot, custom not known, The ratifiers and props of every weal. That is, of every government, Johnson. The ratifiers and props of every word.] By word is here meant a declaration, or proposal; it is determined to this sense, by the inference it hath to what had just preceded, The rabble call him lord, &c. This acclamation, which is the word here spoken of, was made without regard to antiquity, or received custom, whose concurrence, however, is necessarily required to confer validity and stability in every proposal of this kind. Revisal. Sir T. Hanmer would transpose the two last lines. Dr. Warburton proposes to read, ward; and Dr. Johnson, weal, instead of word. I should be rather for reading, work. Tyrwhitt. The ratifiers and props of every word.] In the first folio there is only a comma at the end of the above line; and will not the passage bear this construction?—The rabble call him lord, and as if the world were now but to begin, and as if the ancient custom of hereditary succession were unknown, they, the ratifiers and props of every word he utters, cry, Let us make choice, that Laertes shall be king. Tollet.

Note return to page 812 4O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs.] Hounds run counter when they trace the trail backwards. Johnson.

Note return to page 813 5&lblank; unsmirched brow,] i. e. clean, not defiled. To besmirch, our author uses Act I. Sc. 5. This seems to be an allusion to a proverb often introduced in the old comedies. Thus, in the London Prodigal, 1605: “&lblank; as true as the skin between any man's brows.” Steevens.

Note return to page 814 6&lblank; life-rend'ring pelican,] So, in the ancient Interlude of Nature, bl. l. no date: “Who taught the cok hys watche-howres to observe, “And syng of corage wyth shryll throte on hye? “Who taught the pellycan her tender hart to carve? &lblank; “For she nolde suffer her byrdys to dye?” It is almost needless to add that this account of the bird is entirely fabulous. Steevens.

Note return to page 815 7&lblank; to your judgment 'pear,] So the quarto; the folio, and all the later editions, read: &lblank; to your judgment pierce, less intelligibly. Johnson. This elision of the verb to appear, is common to Beaumont and Fletcher. So, in The Maid in the Mill: “&lblank; They 'pear so handsomely, I will go forward.” Again, “And where they 'pear so excellent in little, “They will but flame in great.” Steevens.

Note return to page 816 8Nature is fine in love: and, where 'tis fine, It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it loves.] These lines are not in the quarto, and might have been omitted in the folio without great loss, for they are obscure and affected; but, I think, they require no emendation. Love (says Laertes) is the passion by which nature is most exalted and refined; and as substances, refined and subtilised, easily obey any impulse, or follow any attraction, some part of nature, so purified and refined, flies off after the attracting object, after the thing it loves. As into air the purer spirits flow, And separate from their kindred dregs below, So flew her soul. &lblank; Johnson. The meaning of the passage may be—that her wits, like the spirit of fine essences, flew off or evaporated. Steevens.

Note return to page 817 9They bore him bare-fac'd on the bier, &c.] So, in Chaucer's Knighte's Tale, late edit. ver. 2879: “He laid him bare the visage on the bere, “Therwith he wept that pitee was to here.” Steevens.

Note return to page 818 1&lblank; sing, Down a-down,] Perhaps Shakespeare alludes to Phœbe's Sonnet, by Tho. Lodge, which the reader may find in England's Helicon, 1614: Downe a-downe,   Thus Phillis sung,   By fancy once distressed: &c. And so sing, I, with downe a-downe, &c. Down a-down is likewise the burthen of a song in the Three Ladies of London, 1584, and perhaps common to many others. Steevens.

Note return to page 819 2O how the wheel becomes it!] We should read weal. She is now rambling on the ballad of the steward and his lord's daughter. And in these words speaks of the state he assumed. Warburton. I do not see why weal is better than wheel. The story alluded to I do not know; but perhaps the lady stolen by the steward was reduced to spin. Johnson. You must sing, Down-a-down, &c. “O how the wheel becomes it!” &lblank;] The wheel may mean no more than the burthen of the song, which she had just repeated, and as such was formerly used. I met with the following observation in an old quarto black letter book, published before the time of Shakespeare. “The song was accounted a good one, thogh it was not moche graced by the wheele, which in no wise accorded with the subject matter thereof.” I quote this from memory, and from a book, of which I cannot recollect the exact title or date; but the passage was in a preface to some songs or sonnets. I well remember to have met with the word in the same sense in other old books. The ballad, alluded to by Ophelia, is perhaps entered on the books of the Stationers' Company. “October 1580. Four ballades of the Lord of Lorn and the False Steward, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 820 3There's rosemary, that's for remembrance: and there's pansies, that's for thoughts.] There is probably some mythology in the choice of these herbs, but I cannot explain it. Pansies is for thoughts, because of its name, Pensies; but why rosemary indicates remembrance, except that it is an ever-green, and carried at funerals, I have not discovered. Johnson. So, in All Fools, a comedy, by Chapman, 1605: “What flowers are these? &lblank; “The Pansie this. “O, that's for lovers' thoughts!” Rosemary was anciently supposed to strengthen the memory, and was not only carried at funerals, but worn at weddings, as appears from a passage in Beaumont and Fletcher's Elder Brother, Act 3. Sc. 3. And from another in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; will I be wed this morning, “Thou shalt not be there, nor once be graced “With a piece of rosemary.” Again, in the Noble Spanish Soldier, 1634: “I meet few but are stuck with rosemary: every one asked me who was to be married.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “&lblank; she hath given thee a nosegay of flowers, wherein, as a top-gallant for all the rest, is set in rosemary for remembrance.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1201

Note return to page 821 4There's fennel for you, and columbines:] Greene, in his Quip for an Upstart Courtier, 1620, calls fennel, women's weeds: “fit generally for that sex, sith while they are maidens, they wish wantonly.” I know not of what columbines were supposed to be emblematical. They are again mentioned in All Fools, by Chapman, 1605: “What's that?—a columbine? “No: that thankless flower grows not in my garden.” Gerard, however, and other herbalists, impute few, if any, virtues to them; and they may therefore be stiled thankless, because they appear to make no grateful return for their creation. Again, in the 15th Song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “The columbine amongst, they sparingly do set.” From the Caltha Poetarum, 1599, it should seem as if this flower was the emblem of cuckoldom: “&lblank; the blew cornuted columbine, “Like to the crooked horns of Acheloy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 822 5There's rue for you;—and here's some for me:—we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays:] Herb of grace is the name the country people give to rue. And the reason is, because that herb was a principal ingredient in the potion which the Romish priests used to force the possessed to swallow down when they exorcised them. Now these exorcisms being performed generally on a Sunday, in the church before the whole congregation, is the reason why she says, we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. Sandys tells us, that at Grand Cairo there is a species of rue much in request, with which the inhabitants perfume themselves, not only as a preservative against infection, but as very powerful against evil spirits. And the cabalistic Gaffarel pretends to have discovered the reason of its virtue, La semence de ruë est faicte comme une croix, et c'est paraventure la cause qu'elle a tant de vertu contre les possedez, et que l'Eglise s'en sert en les exorcisant. It was on the same principle that the Greeks called sulphur, &grq;&gre;&gric;&gro;&grn;, because of its use in their superstitious purgations by fire. Which too the Romish priests employ to fumigate in their exorcisms; and on that account hallow or consecrate it. Warburton. There's rue for you; and here's some for me, &c.] I believe there is a quibble meant in this passage; rue anciently signifying the same as Ruth, i. e. sorrow. Ophelia gives the queen some, and keeps a proportion of it for herself. There is the same kind of play with the same word in King Richard the Second. Herb of grace is one of the titles which Tucca gives to William Rufus, in Decker's Satiromastix. I suppose the first syllable of the surname Rufus introduced the quibble. Steevens.

Note return to page 823 6You may wear your rue with a difference.] This seems to refer to the rules of heraldry, where the younger brothers of a family bear the same arms with a difference, or mark of distinction. So, in Holinshed's Reign of King Richard II. p. 443: “&lblank; because he was the youngest of the Spensers, he bare a border gules for a difference.” There may, however, be somewhat more implied here, than is expressed. You, madam (says Ophelia to the Queen), may call your rue by its Sunday name, herb of grace, and so wear it with a difference to distinguish it from mine, which can never be any thing but merely rue, i. e. sorrow. Steevens.

Note return to page 824 7For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy, &lblank;] This is part of an old song, mentioned likewise by Beaumont and Fletcher. Two Noble Kinsmen, Act 4. Sc. I: “&lblank; I can sing the broom, “And Bonny Robin.” In the books of the Stationers' Company, 26 April, 1594, is entered “A ballad, intituled, A doleful adewe to the last Erle of Darbie, to the tune of Bonny sweet Robin.” Steevens.

Note return to page 825 8His beard was as white as snow, &c.] This, and several circumstances in the character of Ophelia, seem to have been ridiculed in Eastward Hoe, a comedy written by Ben Jonson, Chapman, and Marston, printed 1605, Act 3: “His head as white as milk,   “All flaxen was his hair; “But now he's dead, “And laid in his bed,   “And never will come again. “God be at your labour! Steevens.

Note return to page 826 9God a'mercy on his soul! And of all Christian souls!] This is the common conclusion to many of the ancient monumental inscriptions. See Weever's Funeral Monuments, p. 657, 658. Berthelette, the publisher of Gower's Confessio Amantis, 1554, speaking first of the funeral of Chaucer, and then of Gower, says, “&lblank; he lieth buried in the monasterie of Seynt Peter's at Westminster, &c. On whose soules and all christen, Jesu have mercie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 827 1No trophy, sword, or hatchment &lblank;] It was the custom, in the times of our author, to hang a sword over the grave of a knight. Johnson. No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,] This practice is uniformly kept up to this day. Not only the sword, but the helmet, gauntlet, spurs, and taburd (i. e. a coat whereon the armorial ensigns were anciently depicted, from whence the term coat of armour) are hung over the grave of every knight. Sir J. Hawkins.

Note return to page 828 2And where the offence is, let the great axe fall.] We should read, &lblank; let the great tax fall. i. e. penalty, punishment. Warburton. Fall corresponds better to axe. Johnson.

Note return to page 829 3&lblank; for the bore of the matter.] The bore is the caliber of a gun, or the capacity of the barrel. The matter (says Hamlet) would carry heavier words. Johnson.

Note return to page 830 4&lblank; the general gender] The common race of the people. Johnson.

Note return to page 831 5Work, like the spring &lblank;] This simile is neither very seasonable in the deep interest of this conversation, nor very accurately applied. If the spring had changed base metals to gold, the thought had been more proper. Johnson. The folio, instead of—work, reads—would. Steevens.

Note return to page 832 6&lblank; for so loud a wind,] Thus the folio. One of the quartos reads—for so loved, arm'd. If these words have any meaning, it should seem to be—The instruments of offence I employ, would have proved too weak to injure one who is so loved and arm'd by the affection of the people. Their love, like armour, would revert the arrow to the bow. Steevens.

Note return to page 833 7&lblank; if praises may go back again,] If I may praise what has been, but is now to be found no more. Johnson.

Note return to page 834 8That we can let our beard be shook with danger,] It is wonderful that none of the advocates for the learning of Shakespeare have told us that this line is imitated from Persius, Sat. 2: Idcirco stolidam præbet tibi vellere barbam Jupiter? Steevens.

Note return to page 835 9How now? &c.] Omitted in the quartos. Theobald.

Note return to page 836 1Letters, &c.] Omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 837 2Of him that brought them.] I have restored this hemistich from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 838 3As liking not his voyage, &lblank;] The folio, As checking at his voyage. Checking is, I think, the best reading. The phrase is from falconry; and may be justified from the following passage in Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606: “&lblank; For who knows not, quoth she, that this hawk, which comes now so fair to the fist, may to-morrow check at the lure?” Again, in G. Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576: “But as the hawke, to gad which knowes the way, “Will hardly leave to checke at carren crowes, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 839 4Laer.] The next sixteen lines are omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 840 5Of the unworthiest siege.] Of the lowest rank. Siege, for seat, place. Johnson. So, in Othello: “&lblank; I fetch my birth “From men of royal siege.” Steevens.

Note return to page 841 6Importing health and graveness. &lblank;] But a warm furr'd gown rather implies sickness than health. Shakespeare wrote, Importing wealth and graveness. &lblank; i. e. that the wearers are rich burghers and magistrates. Warburton. Importing here may be, not inferring by logical consequence, but producing by physical effect. A young man regards show in his dress, an old man, health. Johnson.

Note return to page 842 7&lblank;in forgery of shapes and tricks,] I could not contrive so many proofs of dexterity as he could perform. Johnson.

Note return to page 843 8&lblank; in your defence,] That is, in the science of defence. Johnson.

Note return to page 844 9&lblank; the scrimers &lblank;] The fencers. Johnson. This passage is not in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 845 1&lblank; love is begun by time;] This is obscure. The meaning may be, love is not innate in us, and co-essential to our nature, but begins at a certain time from some external cause, and being always subject to the operations of time, suffers change and diminution. Johnson.

Note return to page 846 2&lblank; in passages of proof,] In transactions of daily experience. Johnson.

Note return to page 847 3There lives &c.] The next ten lines are not in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 848 4For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, I would believe, for the honour of Shakespeare, that he wrote plethory. But I observe the dramatic writers of that time frequently call a fulness of blood a pleurisy, as if it came, not from &grp;&grl;&gre;&gru;&grr;&grag;, but from plus, pluris. Warburton. I think the word should be spelt—plurisy. This passage is fully explained by one in Mascal's treatise on Cattle, 1662, p. 187. “Against the blood, or plurisie of blood. The disease of blood is, some young horses will feed, and being fat will increase blood, and so grow to a plurisie, and die thereof if he have not soon help.” Tollet.

Note return to page 849 5And then this should is like a spendthrift's sigh That hurts by easing. &lblank;] This nonsense should be read thus And then this should is like a spendthrift's sign That hurts by easing; &lblank; i. e. though a spendthrift's entering into bonds or mortgages gives him a present relief from his straits, yet it ends in much greater distresses. The application is, If you neglect a fair opportunity now, when it may be done with ease and safety, time may throw so many difficulties in your way, that, in order to surmount them, you must put your whole fortune into hazard. Warburton. This conjecture is so ingenious, that it can hardly be opposed, but with the same reluctance as the bow is drawn against a hero whose virtues the archer holds in veneration. Here may be applied what Voltaire writes to the empress: Le genereux François &lblank; Te combat et t' admire. Yet this emendation, however specious, is mistaken. The original reading is, not a spendthrift's sigh, but a spendthrift sigh; a sigh that makes an unnecessary waste of the vital flame. It is a notion very prevalent, that sighs impair the strength, and wear out the animal powers. Johnson. Hence Shakespeare, in K. Henry VI. calls them &lblank; blood-consuming sighs. The idea is enlarged upon in Fenton's Tragical Discourses, 1579: “Why staye you not in tyme the source of your scorching sighes, that have already drayned your body of his wholesome humoures, appoynted by nature to gyve sucke to the entrals and inward partes of you?” Malone.

Note return to page 850 6&lblank; he being remiss,] He being not vigilant or cautious. Johnson.

Note return to page 851 7A sword unbated, &lblank;] i. e, not blunted as foils are. Or, as one edition has it, embaited or envenomed. Pope. There is no such reading as embaited in any edition. In Sir Thomas North's Translation of Plutarch, it is said of one of the Metelli, that “he shewed the people the cruel fight of fencers at unrebated swords.” Steevens.

Note return to page 852 8&lblank; a pass of practice,] Practice is often by Shakespeare, and other writers, taken for an insidious stratagem, or privy treason, a sense not incongruous to this passage, where yet I rather believe, that nothing more is meant than a thrust for exercise. Johnson. So, in Look about you, 1600: “I pray God there be no practice in this change.” Again, “&lblank; the man is like to die: “Practice, by th' mass, practice by the, &c. &lblank; “Practice by the Lord, practice, I see it clear.” Again, more appositely in our author's Twelfth Night, Act 5. Sc. ult. This practise hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee. Steevens.

Note return to page 853 9May fit us to our shape: &lblank;] May enable us to assume proper characters, and to act our part. Johnson.

Note return to page 854 1&lblank; blast in proof.] This, I believe, is a metaphor taken from a mine, which, in the proof or execution, sometimes breaks out with an ineffectual blast. Johnson. The word proof shews the metaphor to be taken from the trying or proving fire-arms or cannon, which often blast or burst in the proof. Steevens.

Note return to page 855 2&lblank; I'll have prepar'd him] Thus the folio. The quartos read, I'll have prefer'd him. Steevens.

Note return to page 856 3&lblank; But stay, what noise?] I have recovered this from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 857 4One woe doth tread upon another's heel,] A similar thought occurs in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “One sorrow never comes, but brings an heir “That may succeed as his inheritor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 858 5&lblank; ascaunt the brook,] Thus the quartos. The folio reads, aslant. Ascaunce is interpreted in the Glossary to Chaucer—askew, aside, sideways. Steevens.

Note return to page 859 6&lblank; and long purples,] By long purple is meant a plant, the modern botanical name of which is orchis morio mas, anciently testiculus morionis. The grosser name by which it passes, is sufficiently known in many parts of England, and particulary in the county where Shakespeare lived. Thus far Mr. Warner. Mr. Collins adds, that in Sussex it is still called dead men's hands; and that in Lyte's Herbal, 1578, its various names, too gross for repetition, are preserved. Steevens.

Note return to page 860 7Which time, she chaunted snatches of old tunes;] Fletcher, in his Scornful Lady, very invidiously ridicules this incident: “I will run mad first, and if that get not pity, “I'll drown myself to a most dismal ditty.” Warburton. The quartos read—“snatches of old lauds,” i. e. hymns. Steevens.

Note return to page 861 8&lblank; make her grave straight:] Make her grave from east to west in a direct line parallel to the church; not from north to south, athwart the regular line. This, I think, is meant. Johnson. I cannot think that this means any more than make her grave immediately. She is to be buried in christian burial, and consequently the grave is to be made as usual. My interpretation may be justified from the following passages in K. Henry V. and the play before us: “&lblank; We cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen who live by the prick of their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy-house straight.” Again, in Hamlet, Act 3. Sc. 4: Pol. He will come straight. Again, in the Lover's Progress, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “Lis. Do you fight straight? “Clar. Yes, presently.” Again, in the Merry Wives of Windsor: “&lblank; we'll come and dress you straight.” Again, in Othello: “Farewel, my Desdemona, I will come to thee straight.” Steevens.

Note return to page 862 9&lblank; an act hath three branches; it is to act, to do, and to perform.] Ridicule on scholastic divisions without distinction; and of distinctions without difference. Warburton.

Note return to page 863 1&lblank; crowner's quest-law.] I strongly suspect that this is a ridicule on the case of Dame Hales, reported by Plowden in his commentaries, as determined in 3 Eliz. It seems her husband Sir James Hales had drowned himself in a river, and the question was, whether by this act a forfeiture of a lease from the dean and chapter of Canterbury, which he was possessed of, did not accrue to the crown; an inquisition was found before the coroner, which found him felo de se. The legal and logical subtilties, arising in the course of the argument of this case, gave a very fair opportunity for a sneer at crowner's quest-law. The expression, a little before, that an act hath three branches, &c. is so pointed an allusion to the case I mention, that I cannot doubt but that Shakespeare was acquainted with and meant to laugh at it. It may be added, that on this occasion a great deal of subtilty was used, to ascertain whether Sir James was the agent or the patient; or, in other words, whether he went to the water, or the water came to him. The cause of Sir James's madness was the circumstance of his having been the judge who condemned Lady Jane Gray. Sir J. Hawkins. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1205

Note return to page 864 2&lblank; their even christian.] So all the old books, and rightly. An old English expression for fellow-christians. Thirlby. So, in Chaucer's Jack Upland: “If freres cannot or mow not excuse 'hem of these questions asked of 'hem, it semeth that they be horrible giltie against God, and ther even christian; &c.” Again, in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. 5. fol. 102: “Of beautie sighe he never hir even.” Again, Chaucer's Persones Tale: “&lblank; of his neighebour, that is to sayn, of his even cristen, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 865 32 Clown.] This speech, and the next as far as—without arms, is not in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 866 4Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.] i. e. when you have done that, I'll trouble you no more with these riddles. The phrase is taken from husbandry. Warburton. Alluding to what the Greeks called by one word &grB;&gro;&gru;&grl;&gru;&grt;&groa;&grn;&grd;&gre;, the time for unyoking. Hom. Il. II. 779. &GRHsc;&grm;&gro;&grst; &grd;&grap; &grhs;&grea;&grl;&gri;&gro;&grst; &grm;&gre;&grt;&gre;&grn;&gre;&gria;&grs;&grs;&gre;&grt;&gro; &grb;&gro;&gru;&grl;&gru;&grt;&groa;&grn;&grd;&gre;. Schol. &gres;&grp;&grig; &grt;&grhg;&grn; &grer;&grs;&grp;&grea;&grr;&gra;&grn;&grcolon; &grd;&gre;&gria;&grl;&grh;&grst;, &grk;&gra;&grq;&grap; &grorg;&grn; &grk;&gra;&gri;&grr;&grog;&grn; &gro;&grir; &grb;&gro;&gresa;&grst; &gras;&grp;&gro;&grl;&gru;&groa;&grn;&grt;&gra;&gri; &grt;&grwc;&grn; &gresa;&grr;&grg;&grw;&grn;. Upton. If it be not sufficient to say, with Dr. Warburton, that the phrase might be taken from husbandry, without much depth of reading, we may produce it from a dittie of the workmen of Dover, preserved in the additions to Holinshed, p. 1546. “My bow is broke, I would unyoke, “My foot is sore, I can worke no more,” Farmer. Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, at the end of Song I. “Here I'll unyoke a while and turne my steeds to meet.” Again, in P. Holland's Translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. p. 593: “in the evening, and when thou dost unyoke.” Steevens.

Note return to page 867 5In youth when I did love, &c.] The three stanzas, sung here by the grave-digger, are extracted, with a slight variation, from a little poem, called The Aged Lover renounceth Love, written by Henry Howard earl of Surrey, who flourished in the reign of king Henry VIII. and who was beheaded in 1547, on a strained accusation of treason. Theobald.

Note return to page 868 6&lblank; nothing meet.] Hanmer reads. &lblank; nothing so meet. Johnson. The original poem from which this stanza is taken, like the other succeeding ones, is preserved among lord Surrey's poems; though, as Dr. Percy has observed, it is attributed to lord Vaux by George Gascoigne. See an epistle prefixed to one of his poems, printed with the rest of his works, 1575. By others it is supposed to have been written by Sir Thomas Wyatt. I lothe that I did love;   In youth that I thought swete: As time requires for my behove,   Methinks they are not mete. The entire song is published by Dr. Percy, in the first volume of his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Steevens.

Note return to page 869 7As if I had never been such.] Thus, in the original. For age with stealing steps   Hath clawde me with his crowch; And lusty youthe away he leapes,   As there had bene none such. Steevens.

Note return to page 870 8&lblank; a politician,—one that would circumvent God;] This character is finely touched. Our great historian has well explained it in an example, where, speaking of the death of cardinal Mazarine, at the time of the Restoration, he says, “The cardinal was probably struck with the wonder, if not the agony of that undream'd-of prosperity of our king's affairs; as if he had taken it ill, and laid it to heart, that God Almighty would bring such a work to pass in Europe without his concurrence, and even against all his machinations.” History of Rebellion, book 16. Warburton.

Note return to page 871 9&lblank; which this ass o'er-offices; &lblank;] The meaning is this. People in office, at that time, were so over-bearing, that Shakespeare, speaking of insolence at the height, calls it, Insolence in office. And Donne says, Who is he, Who officers' rage and suitors' misery Can write in jest. &lblank; Sat. Alluding to this character of ministers and politicians, the speaker observes, that this insolent officer is now o'er-officer'd by the sexton, who, knocking his scull about with his spade, appears to be as insolent in his office as they were in theirs. This is said with much humour. Warburton. In the quarto, for over-offices is, over-reaches, which agrees better with the sentence: it is a strong exaggeration to remark, that an ass can over-reach him who would once have tried to circumvent.—I believe both the words were Shakespeare's. An author in revising his work, when his original ideas have faded from his mind, and new observations have produced new sentiments, easily introduces images which have been more newly impressed upon him, without observing their want of congruity to the general texture of his original design. Johnson. The folio reads—o'er-offices. Steevens.

Note return to page 872 1This might be my lord such-a-one, that prais'd my lord such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it;] So, in Timon of Athens, Act I: &lblank; my lord you gave Good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on; it is yours, because you lik'd it. Steevens.

Note return to page 873 2&lblank; and now my lady Worm's;] The scull that was my lord Such-a-one's, is now my lady Worm's. Johnson.

Note return to page 874 3&lblank; play at loggats &lblank;] A play, in which pins are set up to be beaten down with a bowl. Johnson. &lblank; to play at loggats with 'em? &lblank;] This is a game played in several parts of England even at this time. A stake is fixed into the ground; those who play, throw loggats at it, and he that is nearest the stake, wins: I have seen it played in different counties at their sheep-sheering feasts, where the winner was entitled to a black fleece, which he afterwards presented to the farmer's maid to spin for the purpose of making a petticoat, and on condition that she knelt down on the fleece to be kissed by all the rusticks present. So Ben Jonson, Tale of a Tub, Act 4. Sc. 6. “Now are they tossing his legs and arms, “Like loggats at a pear-tree.” So in an old collection of epigrams, satires, &c. “To play at loggats, nine holes, or ten pinnes.” Again, in Decker's If this be not a good Play, the Devil is in it, 1612: “&lblank; two hundred crowns! “I've lost as much at loggats.” It is one of the unlawful games enumerated in the statute of 33 of Hen. VIII. Steevens.

Note return to page 875 4For such a guest is meet.] Thus in the original. A pick-axe and a spade,   And eke a shrowding sheet; A house of clay for to be made,   For such a guest most meet. Steevens.

Note return to page 876 5Quiddits, &c.] i. e. subtilties. So, in Soliman and Perseda; “I am wise, but quiddits will not answer death.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Nay, good Sir Throat, forbear your quillets now.” Steevens.

Note return to page 877 6&lblank; the sconce] i. e. the head. So, in Lilly's Mother Bombie, 1594: “Laudo ingenium, I like thy sconce.” Again, in Merry Tricks, or Ram-Alley, 1611: “&lblank; I say no more, “But 'tis within this sconce to go beyond them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 878 7Is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries,] Omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 879 8&lblank; assurance in that.] A quibble is intended. Deeds, which are usually written on parchment, are called the common assurances of the kingdom. Malone.

Note return to page 880 9&lblank; by the card, &lblank;] The card is the paper on which the different points of the compass were described. To do any thing by the card, is, to do it with nice observation. Johnson.. So, in Macbeth: “And the very ports they blow, &c. “On the shipman's card.” Steevens.

Note return to page 881 1&lblank; the age is grown so picked, &lblank;] So smart, so sharp, says Hanmer, very properly; but there was, I think, about that time, a picked shoe, that is, a shoe with a long pointed toe, in fashion, to which the allusion seems likewise to be made. Every man now is smart; and every man now is a man of fashion. Johnson. This fashion of wearing shoes with long pointed toes was carried to such excess in England, that it was restrained at last by proclamation so long ago as the fifth year of Edward IV. when it was ordered, “that the beaks or pykes of shoes and boots should not pass two inches, upon pain of cursing by the clergy, and forfeiting twenty shillings, to be paid one noble to the king, another to the cordwainers of London, and the third to the chamber of London;—and for other countries and towns the like order was taken.—Before this time, and since the year 1382, the pykes of shoes and boots were of such length, that they were fain to be tied up to the knees with chains of silver, and gilt, or at least with silken laces.” Steevens.

Note return to page 882 1my lady's chamber,] Thus the folio. The quartos read— my lady's table, meaning, I suppose, her dressing-table. Steevens.

Note return to page 883 2&lblank; winter's flaw!] Winter's blast. Johnson. So, in Marius and Sylla, 1594: “&lblank; no doubt this stormy flaw, “That Neptune sent to cast us on this shore.” The quartos read—to expel the water's flaw. Steevens.

Note return to page 884 3&lblank; maimed rites! &lblank;] Imperfect obsequies. Johnson.

Note return to page 885 4Fordo its own life.] To fordo, is to undo, to destroy. So, in Othello: “&lblank; this is the night “That either makes me or fordoes me quite.” Again, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “&lblank; wolde to God it might be leful for me to fordoo myself, or to make an ende of me!” Steevens.

Note return to page 886 5&lblank; some estate:] Some person of high rank. Johnson.

Note return to page 887 6Priest.] This Priest in the old quarto is called Doctor. Steevens.

Note return to page 888 7&lblank; allow'd her virgin rites,] The old quarto reads virgin crants, evidently corrupted from chants, which is the true word. A specific rather than a generic term being here required to answer to maiden strewments. Warburton. I have been informed by an anonymous correspondent, that crants is the German word for garlands, and I suppose it was retained by us from the Saxons. To carry garlands before the bier of a maiden, and to hang them over her grave, is still the practice in rural parishes. Crants therefore was the original word, which the author, discovering it to be provincial, and perhaps not understood, changed to a term more intelligible, but less proper. Maiden rites give no certain or definite image. He might have put maiden wreaths, or maiden garlands, but he perhaps bestowed no thought upon it, and neither genius nor practice will always supply a hasty writer with the most proper diction. Johnson. In Minshew's Dictionary, see Beades, where roosen krants means sertum rosarium; and such is the name of a character in this play. Tollet.

Note return to page 889 8Of bell and burial.] Burial, here, signifies interment in consecrated ground. Warburton.

Note return to page 890 9To sing a Requiem, &lblank;] A Requiem is a mass performed in Popish churches for the rest of the soul of a person deceased. The folio reads—sing sage requiem. Steevens.

Note return to page 891 1All. &c.] This is restored from the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 892 2Woo't drink up Esill? eat a crocodile?] This word has through all the editions been distinguished by Italick characters, as if it were the proper name of some river; and so, I dare say, all the editors have from time to time understood it to be. But then this must be some river in Denmark; and there is none there so called; nor is there any near it in name, that I know of, but Yssel, from which the province of Overyssel derives its title in the German Flanders. Besides, Hamlet is not proposing any impossibilities to Laertes, as the drinking up a river would be: but he rather seems to mean, Wilt thou resolve to do things the most shocking and distasteful to human nature? and, behold, I am as resolute. I am persuaded the poet wrote: Wilt drink up Eisel? eat a crocodile? i. e. Wilt thou swallow down large draughts of vinegar? The proposition, indeed, is not very grand: but the doing it might be as distasteful and unsavoury, as eating the flesh of a crocodile. And now there is neither an impossibility, nor an anticlimax: and the lowness of the idea is in some measure removed by the uncommon term. Theobald. Hanmer has, Wilt drink up Nile? or eat a crocodile? Hamlet certainly meant (for he says he will rant) to dare Laertes to attempt any thing, however difficult or unnatural; and might safely promise to follow the example his antagonist was to set, in draining the channel of a river, or trying his teeth on an animal, whose scales are supposed to be impenetrable. Had Shakespeare meant to make Hamlet say—Wilt thou drink vinegar? he probably would not have used the term drink up; which means, totally to exhaust; neither is that challenge very magnificent, which only provokes an adversary to hazard a fit of the heart-burn or the colic. The commentator's Yssel would serve Hamlet's turn or mine. This river is twice mentioned by Stowe, p. 735. “It standeth a good distance from the river Issell, but hath a sconce on Issel of incredible strength.” Again, by Drayton, in the 24th Song of his Polyolbion: The one O'er Isell's banks the ancient Saxons taught; At Over Isell rests, the other did apply: And, in K. Richard II. a thought in part the same, occurs, Act 2. Sc. 2: “&lblank; the task he undertakes “Is numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry.” But in an old Latin account of Denmark and the neighbouring provinces, I find the names of several rivers little differing from Esil, or Elsill, in spelling or pronunciation. Such are the Essa, the Oesil, and some others. The word, like many more, may indeed be irrecoverably corrupted; but, I must add, that no authors later than Chaucer or Skelton make use of eysel for vinegar: nor has Shakespeare employed it in any other of his plays. The poet might have written the Weisel, a considerable river which falls into the Baltic ocean, and could not be unknown to any prince of Denmark. Steevens. Mr. Steevens appears to have forgot our author's IIIth sonnet: “I will drinke “Potions of Eysell.” I believe it has not been observed that many of these sonnets are addressed to his beloved nephew William Harte. Farmer. I have since observed, that Mandevile has the same word. Steevens.

Note return to page 893 3When that her golden couplets &lblank;] We should read, E'er that— for it is the patience of birds, during the time of incubation, that is here spoken of. The pigeon generally sits upon two eggs; and her young, when first disclosed, are covered with a yellow down. Warburton. Perhaps it should be, Ere yet &lblank; Yet and that are easily confounded. Johnson. To disclose was anciently used for to hatch. So, in the Booke of Huntyng, Hauking, Fyshyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “First they ben eges; and after they ben disclosed, haukes; and commonly goshaukes ben disclosed as sone as the choughes.” To exclude is the technical term at present. I believe neither commentator has rightly explained this image. During three days after the pigeon has hatched her couplets (for she lays no more than two eggs), she never quits her nest, except for a few moments in quest of a little food for herself; as all her young require in that early state, is to be kept warm, an office which she never entrusts to the male. Steevens.

Note return to page 894 4&lblank; shortly] The second and third quartos read, thereby. Perhaps rightly. Steevens.

Note return to page 895 5&lblank; mutines in the bilboes.] Mutines, the French word for seditious or disobedient fellows in the army or fleet. Bilboes, the ship's prison. Johnson. The bilboes is a bar of iron with fetters annexed to it, by which mutinous or disorderly sailors were anciently linked together. The word is derived from Bilboa, a place in Spain where instruments of steel were fabricated in the utmost perfection. To understand Shakespeare's allusion completely, it should be known, that as these fetters connect the legs of the offenders very close together, their attempts to rest must be as fruitless as those of Hamlet, in whose mind there was a kind of fighting that would not let him sleep. Every motion of one must disturb his partner in confinement. The bilboes are still shewn in the Tower of London, among the other spoils of the Spanish Armada. The following is the figure of them. Steevens.

Note return to page 896 6&lblank; Rashly, And prais'd be rashness for it—Lets us know, Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When, &c.] The sense in this reading is, Our rashness lets us know that our indiscretion serves us well, when, &c. But this could never be Shakespeare's sense. We should read and point thus: &lblank; Rashness (And prais'd be rashness for it) lets us know; Or indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When, &c.] i. e. Rashness acquaints us with what we cannot penetrate to by plots. Warburton. Both my copies read, &lblank; Rashly, And prais'd be rashness for it, let us know. Hamlet, delivering an account of his escape, begins with saying, That he rashly—and then is carried into a reflection upon the weakness of human wisdom. I rashly—praised be rashness for it—Let us not think these events casual, but let us know, that is, take notice and remember, that we sometimes succeed by indiscretion, when we fail by deep plots, and infer the perpetual superintendance and agency of the Divinity. The observation is just, and will be allowed by every human being who shall reflect on the course of his own life. Johnson. This passage, I think, should be thus distributed.—Rashly (And prais'd be rashness, for it lets us know, Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do fail; and that should teach us, There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough hew them how we will;— Hor. That is most certain.—) Ham. Up from my cabin, &c. So that rashly may be joined in construction with in the dark grop'd I to find out them. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 897 7With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life;] With such causes of terror, rising from my character and designs. Johnson. A bug was no less a terrific being than a goblin. So, in Spenser's Faery Queen, B. 2. c. 3: “As ghastly bug their haire on end does reare.” We call it at present a bugbear. Steevens.

Note return to page 898 8&lblank; no leisure bated,] Bated, for allowed. To abate, signifies to deduct; this deduction, when applied to the person in whose favour it is made, is called an allowance. Hence he takes the liberty of using bated for allowed. Warburton.

Note return to page 899 9Being thus benetted round with villains, Ere I could make a prologue to my brains, They had begun the play: &lblank;] The second line is nonsense. The whole should be read thus: Being thus benetted round with villains, Ere I could mark the prologue to my bane, They had begun the play. i. e. they begun to act, to my destruction, before I knew there was a play towards. Ere I could mark the prologue. For it appears by what he says of his foreboding, that it was that only, and not any apparent mark of villainy, which set him upon fingering their packet. Ere I could make the prologue, is absurd: both, as he had no thoughts of playing them a trick till they had played him one; and because his counterplot could not be called a prologue to their, plot. Warburton. In my opinion no alteration is necessary. Hamlet is telling how luckily every thing fell out; he groped out their commission in the dark without waking them; he sound himself doomed to immediate destruction. Something was to be done for his preservation. An expedient occurred, not produced by the comparison of one method with another, or by a regular deduction of consequences, but before he could make a prologue to his brains, they had begun the play. Before he could summon his faculties, and propose to himself what should be done, a complete scheme of action presented itself to him. His mind operated before he had excited it. This appears to me to be the meaning. Johnson.

Note return to page 900 1&lblank; as our statists do,] A statist is a statesman. So, in Shirley's Humorous Courtier, 1640: “&lblank; that he is wise, a statist.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Magnetic Lady: “Will screw you out a secret from a statist.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1210

Note return to page 901 2&lblank; yeoman's service:] The meaning, I believe, is, This yeomanly qualification was a most useful servant, or yeoman, to me; i. e. did me eminent service. The ancient yeomen were famous for their military valour. These were the good archers in times past (says Sir Thomas Smith), and the stable troop of footmen that affraide all France.” Steevens.

Note return to page 902 3As peace should still her wheaten garland wear, And stand a comma 'tween their amities;] Peace is here properly and finely personalized as the goddess of good league and friendship; and very classically dressed out. Ovid says, Pax Cererem nutrit, pacis alumna Ceres. And Tibullus, At nobis, pax alma! veni, spicamque teneto. But the placing her as a comma, or stop, between the amities of two kingdoms, makes her rather stand like a cypher. The poet without doubt wrote: And stand a commere 'tween our amities. The term is taken from a trafficker in love, who brings people together, a procuress. And this idea is well appropriated to the satirical turn which the speaker gives to this wicked adjuration of the king, who would lay the foundation of the peace of the two kingdoms in the blood of the heir of one of them. Periers, in his novels, uses the word commere to signify a she-friend. A tous ses gens, chacun une commere. And Ben Jonson, in his Devil's an Ass, englishes the word by a middling gossip. Or what do you say to a middling gossip To bring you together? Warburton. Hanmer reads, And stand a cement &lblank; I am again inclined to vindicate the old reading. That the word commere is French, will not be denied; but when or where was it English? The expression of our author is, like many of his phrases, sufficiently constrained and affected, but it is not incapable of explanation. The comma is the note of connection and continuity of sentences; the period is the note of abruption and disjunction. Shakespeare had it perhaps in his mind to write, That unless England complied with the mandate, war should put a period to their amity; he altered his mode of diction, and thought that, in an opposite sense, he might put, that Peace should stand a comma between their amities. This is not an easy stile; but is it not the stile of Shakespeare? Johnson.

Note return to page 903 4&lblank; as's of great charge,] Asses heavily loaded. A quibble is intended between as the conditional particle, and ass the beast of burthen. That charg'd anciently signified loaded, may be proved from the following passage in The Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “Thou must be the ass charg'd with crowns to make way.” Johnson. Shakespeare has so many quibbles of his own to answer for, that there are those who think it hard he should be charged with others, which he never thought of. Steevens.

Note return to page 904 5The changeling never known: &lblank;] A changeling is a child which the fairies are supposed to leave in the room of that which they steal. Johnson.

Note return to page 905 6Why, man, &c.] This line is omitted in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 906 7Doth by their own insinuation grow:] Insinuation, for corruptly obtruding themselves into his service. Warburton.

Note return to page 907 8To quit him &lblank;] To requite him; to pay him his due. Johnson. This passage, as well as the three following speeches, is not in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 908 9I'll count his favours:] Thus the folio. Mr. Rowe first made the alteration, which is unnecessary. I'll count his favours is—I will make account of them, i. e. reckon upon them, value them. Steevens.

Note return to page 909 1&lblank; Dost know this water-fly?] A water-fly skips up and down upon the surface of the water, without any apparent purpose or reason, and is thence the proper emblem of a busy trifler. Johnson.

Note return to page 910 2&lblank; It is a chough; &lblank;] A kind of jackdaw. Johnson.

Note return to page 911 3But yet, methinks, it is very sultry, &c.] Hamlet is here playing over the same farce with Osrick, which he had formerly done with Polonius. Steevens.

Note return to page 912 4&lblank; or my complexion.] The folio read—“for my complexion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 913 5“Nay, in good faith—for mine ease.”] This seems to have been the affected phrase of the time.—Thus in Marston's Malecontent, “I beseech you, sir, be covered.”—“No, in good faith for my ease.” And in other places. Farmer.

Note return to page 914 6Sir, &c.] The folio omits this and the following fourteen speeches; and in their place substitutes only, “Sir, you are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is at his weapon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 915 7&lblank; full of most excellent differences, &lblank;] Full of distinguishing excellencies. Johnson.

Note return to page 916 8&lblank; speak feelingly] The first quarto reads, sellingly. Steevens.

Note return to page 917 9&lblank; the card or calendar of gentry; &lblank;] The general preceptor of elegance; the card by which a gentleman is to direct his course; the calendar by which he is to choose his time, that what he does may be both excellent and seasonable. Johnson.

Note return to page 918 1&lblank; for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.] You shall find him containing and comprising every quality which a gentleman would desire to contemplate for imitation. I know not but it should be read, You shall find him the continent. Johnson.

Note return to page 919 2Sir, his definement, &c.] This is designed as a specimen, and ridicule of the court-jargon amongst the precieux of that time. The sense in English is, “Sir, he suffers nothing in your account of him, though to enumerate his good qualities particularly would be endless; yet when we had done our best, it would still come short of him. However, in strictness of truth, he is a great genius, and of a character so rarely to be met with, that to find any thing like him we must look into his mirrour, and his imitators will appear no more than his shadows.” Warburton.

Note return to page 920 3&lblank; and yet but raw neither &lblank;] We should read slow. Warburton. I believe raw to be the right word; it is a word of great latitude; raw signifies unripe, immature, thence unformed, imperfect, unskilful. The best account of him would be imperfect, in respect of his quick sail. The phrase quick sail was, I suppose, a proverbial term for activity of mind. Johnson.

Note return to page 921 4&lblank; a soul of great article; &lblank;] This is obscure. I once thought it might have been, a soul of great altitude; but, I suppose, a soul of great article, means a soul of large comprehension, of many contents; the particulars of an inventory are called articles. Johnson.

Note return to page 922 5&lblank; of such dearth &lblank;] Dearth is dearness, value, price. And his internal qualities of such value and rarity. Johnson.

Note return to page 923 6Is't not possible to understand in another tongue? you will do't, sir, really.] Of this interrogatory remark the sense is very obscure. The question may mean, Might not all this be understood in plainer language. But then, you will do it, sir, really, seems to have no use, for who could doubt but plain language would be intelligible? I would therefore read, Is't possible not to be understood in a mother tongue. You will do it, sir, really. Johnson. Suppose we were to point the passage thus: Is't not possible to understand? In another tongue you will do it, sir, really. The speech seems to be addressed to Osrick, who is puzzled by Hamlet's imitation of his own affected language. Steevens.

Note return to page 924 7&lblank; if you did, it would not much approve me.] If you knew I was not ignorant, your esteem would not much advance my reputation. To approve, is to recommend to approbation. Johnson.

Note return to page 925 8I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him, &c.] I dare not pretend to know him, lest I should pretend to an equality: no man can completely know another, but by knowing himself, which is the utmost extent of human wisdom. Johnson.

Note return to page 926 9&lblank; in his meed, &lblank;] In his excellence. Johnson.

Note return to page 927 1&lblank; impon'd, &lblank;] Perhaps it should be, depon'd. So Hudibras, “I would upon this cause depone, “As much as any I have known.” But perhaps imponed is pledged, impawned, so spelt to ridicule the affectation of uttering English words with French pronunciation. Johnson.

Note return to page 928 2&lblank; hangers,] It appears from several old plays, that what was called a Case of Hangers, was anciently worn. So, in the Birth of Merlin, 1662: “He has a fair sword, but his hangers are fallen.” Again, “He has a feather, and fair hangers too.” Again, in Rhodon and Iris, 1631: “&lblank; a rapier “Hatch'd with gold, with hilt and hangers of the new fashion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 929 3&lblank; you must be edified by the margent, &lblank;] Dr. Warburton very properly observes, that in the old books the gloss or comment was usually printed on the margent of the leaf. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, part 2d, 1630: “&lblank; I read “Strange comments in those margins of your looks.” This speech is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 930 4&lblank; more germane &lblank;] More a-kin. Johnson.

Note return to page 931 5The king, sir, hath laid, &lblank;] This wager I do not understand. In a dozen passes one must exceed the other more or less than three hits. Nor can I comprehend, how, in a dozen, there can be twelve to nine. The passage is of no importance; it is sufficient that there was a wager. The quarto has the passage as it stands. The folio, He hath one twelve for mine. Johnson. The king hath laid that in a dozen passes, &c. This passage compared with two others in which this wager is again mentioned, is certainly obscure; yet with a slight correction already made by Sir T. Hanmer in the last of them, the three passages may, I think, be reconciled. By a dozen passes between yourself and him, I understand a dozen passes for each. The meaning then is—“The king hath laid, that in a dozen passes apiece between you and Laertes, he shall not have the advantage of you by three hits. He (viz. the king) hath laid on the terms of Laertes making twelve hits for nine which you shall make.”—Or perhaps the last he means Laertes, and then it will run—“He (viz. Laertes) hath laid on terms of making twelve hits for nine which you shall make.” This just exceeds Hamlet's number by three.—If therefore Laertes in his 12 passes should make 12 hits, and Hamlet in his 12 but 9, the king would lose.—If on the other hand, Laertes should make but 11 hits, and Hamlet 9, or Laertes 12 and Hamlet 10, his majesty would win.—The other two passages in which this bett is mentioned, shall be considered in their proper places. Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1212

Note return to page 932 6This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.] I see no particular propriety in the image of the lapwing. Osrick did not run till he had done his business. We may read, This lapwing ran away—That is, this fellow was full of unimportant bustle from his birth. Johnson. The same image occurs in Ben Jonson's Staple of News. “&lblank; and coachmen “To mount their boxes reverently, and drive “Like lapwings with a shell upon their heads “Thorough the streets.” And I have since met with it in several other plays. The meaning, I believe, is—This is a forward fellow. So, in Vittoria Corombona, or the White Devil, 1612: “&lblank; Forward lapwing, “He flies with the shell on's head.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “Are you no sooner hatched, with the lapwing, but you will run away with the shell on your head?” Again, in Revenge for Honour, by Chapman: “Boldness enforces youth to hard atchievements “Before their time; makes them run forth like lapwings “From their warm nest, part of the shell yet sticking “Unto their downy heads.” Steevens.

Note return to page 933 7He did so, sir, with his dug, &c.] What, run away with it? The folio reads, He did comply with his dug. So that the true reading appears to be, He did compliment with his dug, i. e. stand upon ceremony with it, to shew he was born a courtier. This is extremely humorous. Warburton. Hanmer has the same emendation. Johnson. I doubt whether any alteration be necessary. Shakespeare seems to have used comply in the sense in which we use the verb compliment. See before, Act 2. Sc. 2. let comply with you in this garb. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 934 8&lblank; the same breed,] It is beavy in the first folio, and there may be a propriety in it, as he has just called him a lapwing. Tollet. &lblank; and many more of the same breed. The first folio has— and mine more of the same beavy. The second folio—and nine more, &c. Perhaps the last is the true reading. Steevens.

Note return to page 935 9&lblank; outward habit of encounter;] Thus the folio. The quartos read—out of an habit of encounter. Steevens.

Note return to page 936 1&lblank; a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trials, the bubbles are out.] The metaphor is strangely mangled by the intrusion of the word fond, which undoubtedly should be read fann'd; the allusion being to corn separated by the fan from chaff and dust. But the editors seeing, from the character of this yesty collection, that the opinions, through which they were so currently carried, were false opinions; and fann'd and winnow'd opinions, in the most obvious sense, signifying tried and purified opinions; they thought fann'd must needs be wrong, and therefore made it fond, which word signified, in our author's time, foolish, weak, or childish. They did not consider that fann'd and winnow'd opinions had also a different signification: for it may mean the opinions of great men and courtiers, men separated by their quality from the vulgar, as corn is separated from chaff. This yesty collection, says Hamlet, insinuates itself into people of the highest quality, as yest into the finest flour. The courtiers admire him, when he comes to the trial, &c. Warburton. This is a very happy emendation; but I know not why the critic should suppose that fond was printed for fann'd in consequence of any reason or reflection. Such errors, to which there is no temptation but idleness, and of which there was no cause but ignorance, are in every page of the old editions. This passage in the quarto stands thus: “They have got out of the habit of encounter, a kind of misty collection, which carries them through and through the most profane and trennowned opinions.” If this printer preserved any traces of the original, our author wrote, “the most sane and renowned opinions,” which is better than fann'd and winnow'd. The meaning is, “these men have got the cant of the day, a superficial readiness of slight and cursory conversation, a kind of frothy collection of fashionable prattle, which yet carried them through the most select and approved judgments. This airy facility of talk sometimes imposes upon wise men.” Who has not seen this observation verified? Johnson. Fond is evidently opposed to winnowed. Fond, in the language of Shakespeare's age, signified foolish. So, in the Merchant of Venice: Thou naughty jailer, why art thou so fond, &c. Winnowed is sifted, examined. The sense is then, that their conversation was yet successful enough to make them passable not only with the weak, but with those of sounder judgment. The same opposition in terms is visible in the reading which the quartos offer. Profane or vulgar, is opposed to trenowned, or thrice renowned. Steevens. Fann'd and winnow'd seems right to me. Both words winnowed, fand* [Footnote: 1Kb]

Note return to page 937 *So written without the apostrophe, and easily might in MS. be mistaken for fond.

Note return to page 938 2&lblank; do but blow them, &c.] These men of show, without solidity, are like bubbles raised from soap and water, which dance, and glitter, and please the eye, but if you extend them, by blowing hard, separate into a mist; so if you oblige these specious talkers to extend their compass of conversation, they at once discover the tenuity of their intellects. Johnson.

Note return to page 939 3My lord, &c.] All that passes between Hamlet and this Lord is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 940 4&lblank; gentle entertainment &lblank;] Mild and temperate conversation. Johnson.

Note return to page 941 5I shall win at the odds.] By odds are generally understood either unequal stakes, or an advantage given to an adversary. That no odds was laid in the former sense, appears from the bet itself, which has already been particularly mentioned. When Hamlet, therefore, says, I shall win at the odds, he means I shall succeed with the advantage which I am allowed, I shall make more than nine hits for Laertes' twelve. Malone.

Note return to page 942 6&lblank; a kind of gain-giving] Gain-giving is the same as misgiving. Steevens.

Note return to page 943 7If your mind dislike any thing, obey it:] With these presages of future evils arising in the mind, the poet has forerun many events which are to happen at the conclusions of his plays; and sometimes so particularly, that even the circumstances of calamity are minutely hinted at, as in the instance of Juliet, who tells her lover from the window, that he appears like one dead in the bottom of a tomb. The supposition that the genius of the mind gave the alarm before approaching dissolution, is a very ancient one, and perhaps can never be totally driven out: yet it must be allowed the merit of adding beauty to poetry, however injurious it may sometimes prove to the weak and the superstitious. Steevens.

Note return to page 944 8Since no man has ought of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?] This the editors called reasoning. I should have thought the premises concluded just otherwise: for since death strips a man of every thing, it is but fit he should shun and avoid the despoiler. The old quarto reads, Since no man, of ought he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes? Let be. This is the true reading. Here the premises conclude right, and the argument drawn out at length is to this effect: “It is true, that, by death, we lose all the goods of life; yet seeing this loss is no otherwise an evil than as we are sensible of it; and since death removes all sense of it, what matters it how soon we lose them? Therefore come what will, I am prepared.” But the ill pointing in the old book hindered the editors from seeing Shakespeare's sense, and encouraged them to venture at one of their own, though, as usual, they are come very lamely off. Warburton. The reading of the quarto was right, but in some other copy the harshness of the transposition was softened, and the passage stood thus: Since no man knows aught of what he leaves. For knows was printed in the later copies has, by a slight blunder in such typographers. I do not think Dr. Warburton's interpretation of the passage the best that it will admit. The meaning may be this, Since no man knows aught of the state of life which he leaves, since he cannot judge what other years may produce, why should he be afraid of leaving life betimes? Why should he dread an early death, of which he cannot tell whether it is an exclusion of happiness, or an interception of calamity. I despise the superstition of augury and omens, which has no ground in reason or piety; my comfort is, that I cannot fall but by the direction of Providence. Hanmer has, Since no owes aught, a conjecture not very reprehensible. Since no man can call any possession certain, what is it to leave? Johnson.

Note return to page 945 9Give me your pardon, sir:] I wish Hamlet had made some other defence; it is unsuitable to the character of a good or a brave man, to shelter himself in falsehood. Johnson.

Note return to page 946 1Sir, &c.] This passage I have restored from the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 947 2I am satisfied in nature, &c.] This was a piece of satire on fantastical honour. Though nature is satisfied, yet he will ask advice of older men of the sword, whether artificial honour ought to be contented with Hamlet's submission. There is a passage somewhat similar in the Maid's Tragedy: “Evad. Will you forgive me then? “Mel. Stay, I must ask mine honour first.” Steevens.

Note return to page 948 3Your grace hath laid upon the weaker side.] Thus Hanmer. All the others read, Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side. When the odds were on the side of Laertes, who was to hit Hamlet twelve times to nine, it was perhaps the author's slip. Johnson. For the reason given in a former note, I think we ought to read with Hanmer, Your grace hath laid upon the weaker side. The king's answer is then pertinent and clear.—“I have no apprehensions, for I am acquainted with the skill of each of you. However, as Laertes is improved by practice in his travels, we (viz. Hamlet and the King) have an advantage given us.” The compositor at the press probably caught the word odds from the line next but one, and inadvertently inserted it in Hamlet's speech. Malone.

Note return to page 949 4&lblank; the stoups of wine] A stoup is a flaggon, or bowl. Steevens.

Note return to page 950 5And in the cup an union shall he throw,] In some editions, And in the cup an onyx shall he throw. This is a various reading in several of the old copies; but union seems to me to be the true word. If I am not mistaken, neither the onyx, nor sardonyx, are jewels which ever found place in an imperial crown. An union is the finest sort of pearl, and has its place in all crowns and coronets. Besides, let us consider what the king says on Hamlet's giving Laertes the first hit: Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; Here's to thy health. Therefore, if an union be a pearl, and an onyx a gem, or stone, quite differing in its nature from pearls; the king saying, that Hamlet has earn'd the pearl, I think, amounts to a demonstration that it was an union pearl, which he meant to throw into the cup. Theobald. So, in Soliman and Perseda: “Ay, were it Cleopatra's union.” The union is thus mentioned in P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. “And hereupon it is that our dainties and delicates here at Rome, &c. call them unions, as a man would say singular and by themselves alone.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1213

Note return to page 951 6&lblank; this pearl is thine;] Under pretence of throwing a pearl into the cup, the king may be supposed to drop some poisonous drug into the wine. Hamlet seems to suspect this, when he afterwards discovers the effects of the poison, and tauntingly asks him, —Is the union here? Steevens.

Note return to page 952 7Queen. He's fat, and scant of breath. &lblank;] It seems that John Lowin, who was the original Falstaff, was no less celebrated for his performance of Henry VIII. and Hamlet. See the Historia Histrionica, &c. If he was adapted, by the corpulence of his figure, to appear with propriety in the two former of these characters, Shakespeare might have put this observation into the mouth of her majesty, to apologize for the want of such elegance of person as an audience might expect to meet with in the representative of the youthful Prince of Denmark, whom Ophelia speaks of as “the glass of fashion and the mould of form.” This, however, is mere conjecture, as Joseph Taylor likewise acted Hamlet during the life of Shakespeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 953 8The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.] So, in David and Bethsabe, 1599: “With full carouses to his fortune past.” “And bind that promise with a full carouse.” Ibid. “Now, lord Urias, one carouse to me.” Ibid. Steevens.

Note return to page 954 9&lblank; you make a wanton of me.] A wanton was a man feeble and effeminate. In Cymbeline, Imogen says, “I am not so citizen a wanton, “To die, ere I be sick.” Johnson.

Note return to page 955 1Is the union here?] In this place likewise the quarto reads, an onyx. Steevens.

Note return to page 956 2That are but mutes or audience to this act,] That are either mere auditors of this catastrophe, or at most only mute performers, that fill the stage without any part in the action. Johnson.

Note return to page 957 3&lblank; shall live behind me?] Thus the folio. The quartos read— shall I leave behind me. Steevens.

Note return to page 958 4The potent poison quite o'er-grows my spirit;] The first quarto and the first folio read, &lblank; o'er-crows my spirit; alluding perhaps to a victorious cock exulting over his conquered antagonist. The same word occurs in Lingua, &c. 1607: “Shall I? th'embassadress of gods and men, “That pull'd proud Phœbe from her brightsome sphere, “And dark'd Apollo's countenance with a word, “Be over-crowed, and breathe without revenge?” Again, in Hall's Satires, lib. 5. sat. 2: “Like the vain bubble of Iberian pride, “That over-croweth all the world beside.” This phrase often occurs in the controversial pieces of Gabriel Harvey, 1593, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 959 5&lblank; the occurrents &lblank;] i. e. incidents. The word is now disused. So, in The Hog hath lost his Pearl, 1614: “Such strange occurrents of my fore-past life.” Again, in the Barons' Wars, by Drayton, Canto I. “With each occurrent right in his degree.” Steevens.

Note return to page 960 6Which have solicited &lblank;] Solicited, for brought on the event. Warburton.

Note return to page 961 7Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!] Let us review for a moment the behaviour of Hamlet, on the strength of which Horatio founds this eulogy, and recommends him to the patronage of angels. Hamlet, at the command of his father's ghost, undertakes with seeming alacrity to revenge the murder; and declares he will banish all other thoughts from his mind. He makes, however, but one effort to keep his word, and that is, when he mistakes Polonius for the king. On another occasion, he defers his purpose till he can find an opportunity of taking his uncle when he is least prepared for death, that he may insure damnation to his soul. Though he assassinated Polonius by accident, yet he deliberately procures the execution of his school-fellows, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who appear to have been unacquainted with the treacherous purposes of the mandate which they were employed to carry. Their death (as he declares in a subsequent conversation with Horatio) gives him no concern, for they obtruded themselves into the service, and he thought he had a right to destroy them. He is not less accountable for the distraction and death of Ophelia. He comes to interrupt the funeral designed in honour of this lady, at which both the king and queen were present; and, by such an outrage to decency, renders it still more necessary for the usurper to lay a second stratagem for his life, though the first had proved abortive. He comes to insult the brother of the dead, and to boast of an affection for his sister, which, before, he had denied to her face; and yet at this very time must be considered as desirous of supporting the character of a madman, so that the openness of his confession is not to be imputed to him as a virtue. He apologizes to Horatio afterwards for the absurdity of this behaviour, to which, he says, he was provoked by that nobleness of fraternal grief, which, indeed, he ought rather to have applauded than condemned. Dr. Johnson has observed, that to bring about a reconciliation with Laertes, he has availed himself of a dishonest fallacy; and to conclude, it is obvious to the most careless spectator or reader, that he kills the king at last to revenge himself, and not his father. Hamlet cannot be said to have pursued his ends by very warrantable means; and if the poet, when he sacrificed him at last, meant to have enforced such a moral, it is not the worst that can be deduced from the play; for, as Maximus, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Valentinian, says, “Although his justice were as white as truth, “His way was crooked to it; that condemns him.” The late Dr. Akinside once observed to me, that the conduct of Hamlet was every way unnatural and indefensible, unless he were to be regarded as a young man whose intellects were in some degree impaired by his own misfortunes; by the death of his father, the loss of expected sovereignty, and a sense of shame resulting from the hasty and incestuous marriage of his mother. I have dwelt the longer on this subject, because Hamlet seems to have been hitherto regarded as a hero not undeserving the pity of the audience; and because no writer on Shakespeare has taken the pains to point out the immoral tendency of his character. Steevens.

Note return to page 962 8This quarry cries, on havock!] Hanmer reads, &lblank; cries out, havock! To cry on, was to exclaim against. I suppose, when unfair sportsmen destroyed more quarry or game than was reasonable, the censure was to cry, Havock. Johnson.

Note return to page 963 9What feast is toward in thine infernal cell,] Shakespeare has already employed this allusion to the Choæ, or feasts of the dead, which were anciently celebrated at Athens, and are mentioned by Plutarch in the life of Antonius. Our author likewise makes Talbot say to his son in the First Part of King Henry VI: Now art thou come unto a feast of death.” Steevens.

Note return to page 964 1&lblank; his mouth,] i. e. the king's. Steevens.

Note return to page 965 2Of cruel, &c.] Thus the more modern editors. The first quarto, and the folio, read—Of carnal, &c. referring, I suppose, to the usurper's criminal intercourse with the mother of Hamlet. Collins.

Note return to page 966 3&lblank; and forc'd cause.] Thus the folio. The quartos read— and for no cause. Steevens.

Note return to page 967 4And from his mouth whose voice will draw no more:] This is the reading of the old quartos, but certainly a mistaken one. We say, a man will no more draw breath; but that a man's voice will draw no more, is, I believe, an expression without any authority. I choose to espouse the reading of the elder folio: And from his mouth, whose voice will draw on more. And this is the poet's meaning. Hamlet, just before his death, had said: But I do prophesy, the election lights On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice; So tell him, &c. Accordingly, Horatio here delivers that message; and very justly infers, that Hamlet's voice will be seconded by others, and procure them in favour of Fortinbras's succession. Theobald.

Note return to page 968 If the dramas of Shakespeare were to be characterised, each by the particular excellence which distinguishes it from the rest, we must allow to the tragedy of Hamlet the praise of variety. The incidents are so numerous, that the argument of the play would make a long tale. The scenes are interchangeably diversified with merriment and solemnity; with merriment that includes judicious and instructive observations; and solemnity, not strained by poetical violence above the natural sentiments of man. New characters appear from time to time in continual succession, exhibiting various forms of life and particular modes of conversation. The pretended madness of Hamlet causes much mirth, the mournful distraction of Ophelia fills the heart with tenderness, and every personage produces the effect intended, from the apparition that in the first act chills the blood with horror, to the fop in the last, that exposes affectation to just contempt. The conduct is perhaps not wholly secure against objections. The action is indeed for the most part in continual progression, but there are some scenes which neither forward nor retard it. Of the feigned madness of Hamlet there appears no adequate cause, for he does nothing which he might not have done with the reputation of sanity. He plays the madman most, when he treats Ophelia with so much rudeness, which seems to be useless and wanton cruelty. Hamlet is, through the whole piece, rather an instrument than an agent. After he has, by the stratagem of the play, convicted the king, he makes no attempt to punish him; and his death is at last effected by an incident which Hamlet had no part in producing. The catastrophe is not very happily produced; the exchange of weapons is rather an expedient of necessity, than a stroke of art. A scheme might easily be formed to kill Hamlet with the dagger, and Laertes with the bowl. The poet is accused of having shewn little regard to poetical justice, and may be charged with equal neglect of poetical probability. The apparition left the regions of the dead to little purpose; the revenge which he demands is not obtained, but by the death of him that was required to take it; and the gratification, which would arise from the destruction of an usurper and a murderer, is abated by the untimely death of Ophelia, the young, the beautiful, the harmless, and the pious. Johnson.

Note return to page 969 10910001 ACT II. Scene 2. The rugged Pyrrhus, he, &c.] The two greatest poets of this and the last age, Mr. Dryden, in the preface to Troilus and Cressida, and Mr. Pope, in his note on this place, have concurred in thinking that Shakespeare produced this long passage with design to ridicule and expose the bombast of the play from whence it was taken; and that Hamlet's commendation of it is purely ironical. This is become the general opinion. I think just otherwise; and that it was given with commendation to upbraid the false taste of the audience of that time, which would not suffer them to do justice to the simplicity and sublime of this production. And I reason, first, from the character Hamlet gives of the play, from whence the passage is taken. Secondly, from the passage itself. And thirdly, from the effect it had on the audience. Let us consider the character Hamlet gives of it, The play, I remember, pleased not the million, 'twas Caviare to the general; but it was (as I received it, and others, whose judgment in such matters cried in the top of mine) an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember, one said, there was no salt in the lines to make the matter savoury; nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection; but called it an honest method. They who suppose the passage given to be ridiculed, must needs suppose this character to be purely ironical. But if so, it is the strangest irony that ever was written. It pleased not the multitude. This we must conclude to be true, however ironical the rest be. Now the reason given of the designed ridicule is the supposed bombast. But those were the very plays, which at that time we know took with the multitude. And Fletcher wrote a kind of Rehearsal purposely to expose them. But say it is bombast, and that therefore it took not with the multitude. Hamlet presently tells us what it was that displeased them. There was no salt in the lines to make the matter savoury; nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection; but called it an honest method. Now whether a person speaks ironically or no, when he quotes others, yet common sense requires he should quote what they say. Now it could not be, if this play displeased because of the bombast, that those whom it displeased should give this reason for their dislike. The same inconsistencies and absurdities abound in every other part of Hamlet's speech, supposing it to be ironical: but take him as speaking his sentiments, the whole is of a piece; and to this purpose. The play, I remember, pleased not the multitude, and the reason was, its being wrote on the rules of the ancient drama; to which they were entire strangers. But, in my opinion, and in the opinion of those for whose judgment I have the highest esteem, it was an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, i. e. where the three unities were well preserved. Set down with as much modesty as cunning, i.e. where not only the art of composition, but the simplicity of nature, was carefully attended to. The characters were a faithful picture of life and manners, in which nothing was overcharged into farce. But these qualities, which gained my esteem, lost the public's. For I remember one said, There was no salt in the lines to make the matter savoury, i. e. there was not, according to the mode of that time, a fool or clown to joke, quibble, and talk freely. Nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection, i. e. nor none of those passionate, pathetic love scenes, so essential to modern tragedy. But he called it an honest method, i. e. he owned, however tasteless this method of writing, on the ancient plan, was to our times, yet it was chaste and pure; the distinguishing character of the Greek drama. I need only make one observation on all this; that, thus interpreted, it is the justest picture of a good tragedy, wrote on the ancient rules. And that I have rightly interpreted it, appears farther from what we find in the old quarto, An honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine, i. e. it had a natural beauty, but none of the fucus of false art. 2 A second proof that this speech was given to be admired, is from the intrinsic merit of the speech itself; which contains the description of a circumstance very happily imagined, namely, Ilium and Priam's falling together, with the effect it had on the destroyer.   &lblank; The hellish Pyrrhus, &c. To, Repugnant to command.   The unnerved father falls, &c. To, &lblank; So after Pyrrhus' pause. Now this circumstance, illustrated with the fine similitude of the storm, is so highly worked up, as to have well deserved a place in Virgil's second book of the Æneid, even though the work had been carried on to that perfection which the Roman poet had conceived. 3. The third proof is, from the effects which followed on the recital. Hamlet, his best character, approves it; the player is deeply affected in repeating it; and only the foolish Polonius tired with it. We have said enough before of Hamlet's sentiments. As for the player, he changes colour, and the tears start from his eyes. But our author was too good a judge of nature to make bombast and unnatural sentiment produce such an affect. Nature and Horace both instructed him, Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primùm ipsi tibi, tunc tua me infortunia lædent, Telephe, vel Peleu. Male si mandata loqueris, Aut dormitabo aut ridebo. And it may be worth observing, that Horace gives this precept particularly to shew, that bombast and unnatural sentiments are incapable of moving the tender passions, which he is directing the poet how to raise. For, in the lines just before, he gives this rule, Telephus & Peleus, cùm pauper & exul uterque, Projicit Ampullas, & sesquipedalia verba. Not that I would deny, that very bad lines in bad tragedies have had this effect. But then it always proceeds from one or other of these causes. 1. Either when the subject is domestic, and the scene lies at home; the spectators, in this case, become interested in the fortunes of the distressed; and their thoughts are so much taken up with the subject, that they are not at liberty to attend to the poet; who, otherwise, by his faulty sentiments and diction, would have stifled the emotions springing up from a sense of the distress. But this is nothing to the case in hand. For, as Hamlet says, What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba? 2. When bad lines raise this affection, they are bad in the other extreme; low, abject, and groveling, instead of being highly figurative and swelling; yet, when attended with a natural simplicity, they have force enough to strike illiterate and simple minds. The tragedies of Banks will justify both these observations. But if any one will still say, that Shakespeare intended to represent a player unnaturally and fantastically affected, we must appeal to Hamlet, that is, to Shakespeare himself in this matter; who, on the reflection he makes upon the player's emotion, in order to excite his own revenge, gives not the least hint that the player was unnaturally or injudiciously moved. On the contrary, his fine description of the actor's emotion shews, he thought just otherwise: &lblank; this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That from her working all his visage wan'd: Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, &c. And indeed had Hamlet esteemed this emotion any thing unnatural, it had been a very improper circumstance to spur him to his purpose. As Shakespeare has here shewn the effects which a fine description of nature, heightened with all the ornaments of art, had upon an intelligent player, whose business habituates him to enter intimately and deeply into the characters of men and manners, and to give nature its free workings on all occasions; so he has artfully shewn what effects the very same scene would have upon a quite different man, Polonius; by nature, very weak and very artificial [two qualities, though commonly enough joined in life, yet generally so much disguised as not to be seen by common eyes to be together; and which an ordinary poet durst not have brought so near one another]; by discipline, practised in a species of wit and eloquence, which was stiff, forced, and pedantic; and by trade a politician, and therefore, of consequence, without any of the affecting notices of humanity. Such is the man whom Shakespeare has judiciously chosen to represent the false taste of that audience which had condemned the play here reciting. When the actor comes to the finest and most pathetic part of the speech, Polonius cries out, This is too long; on which Hamlet, in contempt of his ill judgment, replies, It shall to the barber's with thy beard [intimating that, by this judgment, it appeared that all his wisdom lay in his length of beard,] Pry'thee, say on. He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry [the common entertainment of that time, as well as this, of the people] or he sleeps, say on. And yet this man of modern taste, who stood all this time perfectly unmoved with the forcible imagery of the relator, no sooner hears, amongst many good things, one quaint and fantastical word, put in, I suppose, purposely for this end, than he professes his approbation of the propriety and dignity of it. That's good. Mobled queen is good. On the whole then, I think, it plainly appears, that the long quotation is not given to be ridiculed and laughed at, but to be admired. The character given of the play, by Hamlet, cannot be ironical. The passage itself is extremely beautiful. It has the effect that all pathetic relations, naturally written, should have; and it is condemned, or regarded with indifference, by one of a wrong, unnatural taste. From hence (to observe it by the way) the actors, in their representation of this play, may learn how this speech ought to be spoken, and what appearance Hamlet ought to assume during the recital. That which supports the common opinion, concerning this passage, is the turgid expression in some parts of it; which, they think, could never be given by the poet to be commended. We shall therefore, in the next place, examine the lines most obnoxious to censure, and see how much, allowing the charge, this will make for the induction of their conclusion. Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide, But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword The unnerved father falls. And again, Out, out, thou strumpet fortune! All you gods, In general synod, take away her power: Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, As low as to the fiends. Now whether these be bombast or not, is not the question; but whether Shakespeare esteemed them so. That he did not so esteem them appears from his having used the very same thoughts in the same expressions, in his best plays, and given them to his principal characters, where he aims at the sublime. As in the following passages. Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida, far outstrains the execution of Pyrrhus's sword, in the character he gives of Hector's: When many times the caitive Grecians fall Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, You bid them rise and live. Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra, rails at fortune in the same manner: No, let me speak, and let me rail so high, That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel, Provok'd at my offence. But another use may be made of these quotations; a discovery of this recited play: which, letting us into a circumstance of our author's life (as a writer) hitherto unknown, was the reason I have been so large upon this question. I think then it appears, from what has been said, that the play in dispute was Shakespeare's own; and that this was the occasion of writing it. He was desirous, as soon as he had found his strength, of restoring the chasteness and regularity of the ancient stage: and therefore composed this tragedy on the model of the Greek drama, as may be seen by throwing so much action into relation. But his attempt proved fruitless; and the raw, unnatural taste, then prevalent, forced him back again into his old Gothic manner. For which he took this revenge upon his audience. Warburton. The praise which Hamlet bestows on this piece is certainly dissembled, and agrees very well with the character of madness, which, before witnesses, he thought it necessary to support. The speeches before us have so little merit, that nothing but an affectation of singularity, could have influenced Dr. Warburton to undertake their defence. The poet, perhaps, meant to exhibit a just resemblance of some of the plays of his own age, in which the faults were too general and too glaring to permit a few splendid passages to atone for them. The player knew his trade, and spoke the lines in an affecting manner, because Hamlet had declared them to be pathetic, or might be in reality a little moved by them: for, “There are less degrees of nature (says Dryden) by which some faint emotions of pity and terror are raised in us, as a less engine will raise a less proportion of weight, though not so much as one of Archimedes' making.” The mind of the prince, it must be confessed, was fitted for the reception of gloomy ideas, and his tears were ready at a slight solicitation. It is by no means proved, that Shakespeare has employed the same thoughts cloathed in the same expressions, in his best plays. If he bids the false huswife Fortune break her wheel, he does not desire her to break all its spokes; nay, even its periphery, and make use of the nave afterwards for such an immeasureable cast. Though if what Dr. Warburton has said should be found in any instance to be exactly true, what can we infer from thence, but that Shakespeare was sometimes wrong in spite of conviction, and in the hurry of writing committed those very faults which his judgment could detect in others? Dr. Warburton is inconsistent in his assertions concerning the literature of Shakespeare. In a note on Troilus and Cressida, he affirms, that his want of learning kept him from being acquainted with the writings of Homer; and, in this instance, would suppose him capable of producing a complete tragedy written on the ancient rules; and that the speech before us had sufficient merit to entitle it to a place in the second book of Virgil's Æneid, even though the work had been carried to that perfection which the Roman poet had conceived. Had Shakespeare made one unsuccessful attempt in the manner of the ancients (that he had any knowledge of their rules, remains to be proved) it would certainly have been recorded by contemporary writers, among whom Ben Jonson would have been the first. Had his darling ancients been unskilfully imitated by a rival poet, he would at least have preserved the memory of the fact, to shew how unsafe it was for any one, who was not as thorough a scholar as himself, to have meddled with their sacred remains. “Within that circle none durst walk but he.” He has represented Inigo Jones as being ignorant of the very names of those classic authors, whose architecture he undertook to correct: in his Poetaster he has in several places hinted at our poet's injudicious use of words, and seems to have pointed his ridicule more than once at some of his descriptions and characters. It is true that he has praised him, but it was not while that praise could have been of any service to him; and posthumous applause is always to be had on easy conditions. Happy it was for Shakespeare, that he took nature for his guide, and, engaged in the warm pursuit of her beauties, left to Jonson the repositories of learning: so has he escaped a contest which might have rendered his life uneasy, and bequeathed to our possession the more valuable copies from nature herself: for Shakespeare was (says Dr. Hurd, in his notes on Horace's Art of Poetry) “the first that broke through the bondage of classical superstition. And he owed this felicity, as he did some others, to his want of what is called the advantage of a learned education. Thus, uninfluenced by the weight of early prepossession, he struck at once into the road of nature and common sense: and without designing, without knowing it, hath left us in his historical plays, with all their anomalies, an exacter resemblance of the Athenian stage, than is any where to be found in its most professed admirers and copyists.” Again, ibid. “It is possible, there are, who think a want of reading, as well as vast superiority of genius, hath contributed to lift this astonishing man, to the glory of being esteemed the most original thinker and speaker, since the times of Homer.” To this extract I may add the sentiments of Dr. Edward Young on the same occasion. “Who knows whether Shakespeare might not have thought less, if he had read more? Who knows if he might not have laboured under the load of Jonson's learning, as Enceladus under Ætna? His mighty genius, indeed, through the most mountaious oppression would have breathed out some of his inextinguishable fire; yet possibly, he might not have risen up into that giant, that much more than common man, at which we now gaze with amazement and delight. Perhaps he was as learned as his dramatic province required; for whatever other learning he wanted, he was master of two books, which the last conflagration alone can destroy; the book of nature, and that of man. These he had by heart, and has transcribed many admirable pages of them into his immortal works. These are the fountain-head, whence the Castalian streams of original composition flow; and these are often mudded by other waters, though waters in their distinct channel, most wholesome and pure: as two chemical liquors, separately clear as crystal, grow foul by mixture, and offend the sight. So that he had not only as much learning as his dramatic province required, but, perhaps, as it could safely bear. If Milton had spared some of his learning, his muse would have gained more glory, than he would have lost by it.” Conjectures on Original Composition. The first remark of Voltaire on this tragedy, is that the former king had been poisoned by his brother and his queen. The guilt of the latter, however, is far from being ascertained. The Ghost forbears to accuse her as an accessary, and very forcibly recommends her to the mercy of her son. I may add, that her conscience appears undisturbed during the exhibition of the mock tragedy, which produces so visible a disorder in her husband who was really criminal. The last observation of the same author has no greater degree of veracity to boast of; for now, says he, all the actors in the piece are swept away, and one Monsieur Fortenbras is introduced to conclude it. Can this be true, when Horatio Osrick, Voltimand, and Cornelius survive? These, together with the whole court of Denmark, are supposed to be present at the catastrophe, so that we are not indebted to the Norwegian chief for having kept the stage from vacancy. Monsieur de Voltaire has since transmitted in an Epistle to the Academy of Belles Lettres some remarks on the late French translation of Shakespeare; but alas! no traces of genius or vigour are discoverable in this crambe repetita, which is notorious only for its insipidity, fallacy, and malice. It serves indeed to shew an apparent decline of talents and spirit in its writer, who no longer relies on his own ability to depreciate a rival, but appeals in a plaintive strain to the queen and princesses of France for their assistance to stop the further circulation of Shakespeare's renown. Impartiality, nevertheless, must acknowledge that his private correspondence displays a superior degree of animation. Perhaps an ague shook him when he appealed to the public on this subject; but the effects of a fever seem to predominate in his subsequent letter to Monsieur D'Argenteuil on the same occasion; for such a letter it is as our John Dennis (while his frenzy lasted) might be supposed to have written. “C'est moi qui autrefois parlai le premier de ce Shakespeare: c'est moi qui le premier montrai aux François quelques perles quels j'avois trouvé dans son enorme fumier.” Mrs. Montague, the justly celebrated authoress of the Essay on the genius and writings of our author, was at Paris, and in the circle where these ravings of the Frenchman were first publickly recited. On hearing the illiberal expression already quoted, with no less elegance than readiness she replied—“C'est un fumier qui a fertilizé une terre bien ingrate.”—In short, the author of Zayre, Mahomet, and Semiramis, possesses all the mischievous qualities of a midnight felon, who, in the hope to conceal his guilt, sets the house which he has robbed on fire. As for Messieurs D'Alembert and Marmontel, they might safely be passed over with that neglect which their impotence of criticism deserves. Voltaire, in spite of his natural disposition to vilify an English poet, by adopting sentiments, characters, and situations from Shakespeare, has bestowed on him involuntary praise. Happily, he has not been disgraced by the worthless encomiums or disfigured by the aukward imitations of the other pair, who “follow in the chace not like hounds that hunt, but like those who fill up the cry.” When D'Alembert declares that more sterling sense is to be met with in ten French verses than in thirty English ones, contempt is all that he provokes,—such contempt as can only be exceeded by that which every scholar will express, who may chance to look into the prose translation of Lucan by Marmontel, with the vain expectation of discovering either the sense, the spirit, or the whole of the original. Steevens.9Q1216

Note return to page 970 1Othello.] The story is taken from Cynthio's Novels. Pope. I have not hitherto met with any translation of this novel (the seventh in the third decad) of so early a date as the age of Shakespeare; but undoubtedly many of those little pamphlets have perished between his time and ours. This play was first entered at Stationers' Hall Oct. 6, 1621, by Thomas Walkely. Steevens. I have seen a French translation of Cynthio, by Gabriel Chappuys, Par. 1584. This is not a faithful one; and I suspect, through this medium the work came into English. Farmer.

Note return to page 971 2Never tell me,] The quartos read, Tush, never tell, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 972 3But you'll not, &c.] The first quarto reads, 'Sblood but you, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 973 4Oft capp'd to him;—] Thus the quarto. The folio reads, Off-capp'd to him. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1217

Note return to page 974 5&lblank; certes,] i. e. certainly, in truth. Obsolete. So Spenser, in the Faery Queen, b. 4. c. 9: “Certes her losse ought me to sorrow most.” Steevens.

Note return to page 975 6Forsooth, a great arithmetician,] So, in Romeo and Juliet, Mercutio says: “&lblank; one that fights by the book of arithmetick.” Steevens.

Note return to page 976 7&lblank; a Florentine,] It appears from many passages of this play (rightly understood) that Cassio was a Florentine, and Iago a Venetian. Hanmer.

Note return to page 977 8&lblank; in a fair wife;] In the former editions this hath been printed, a fair wife; but surely it must from the beginning have been a mistake, because it appears from a following part of the play, that Cassio was an unmarried man: on the other hand, his beauty is often hinted at, which it is natural enough for rough soldiers to treat with scorn and ridicule. I read therefore: A fellow almost damn'd in a fair phyz. Hanmer. &lblank; a Florentine, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;] But it was Iago, and not Cassio, who was the Florentine, as appears from Act 3. Sc. 1. The passage therefore should be read thus: &lblank; a Florentine's, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;] These are the words of Othello (which Iago in this relation repeats) and signify, that a Florentine was an unfit person for command, as being always a slave to a fair wife; which was the case of Iago. The Oxford Editor, supposing this was said by Iago of Cassio, will have Cassio to be the Florentine; which, he says, is plain from many passages in the play, rightly understood. But because Cassio was no married man (though I wonder it did not appear he was, from some passages rightly understood) he alters the line thus: A fellow almost damn'd in a fair phyz. A White-friers' phrase. Warburton. As Mr. Theobald's note on this passage appears to have been written in concert with Dr. Warburton, it were useless to insert them both. The former, however, concludes his observations thus: “Iago, not Cassio, was the Florentine; Iago, not Cassio, was the married man; Iago's wife attends Desdemona to Cyprus; Cassio has a mistress there, a common strumpet; and Iago tells him in the fourth act: She gives it out that you shall marry her. which would be absurd, it Cassio had been already married at Venice. Besides, our poet follows the authority of his novel in giving the villainous ensign a fair wife.” Steevens. This is one of the passages which must for the present be resigned to corruption and obscurity. I have nothing that I can, with any approach to confidence, propose. I cannot think it very plain from Act 3. Sc. 1. that Cassio was or was not a Florentine. Johnson. Othello uses the name of Florentine as a term of reproach; and perhaps, the reason is because the Florentines were still in opposition to the Venetians. See Philip de Comines, b. 5. c. 1. A fellow almost damn'd in a faire wife.] Thus faire is spelt in the first folio; and some might have no objection to read. A fellow almost damn'd in a false wife; as the jealous Ford in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 2. Sc. 2. says, “See the hell of having a false woman;” but the original text may mean a fellow almost as unhappy as the damned with jealousy of a fair wife. Iago afterwards, Act 2. Sc. 1. and Act 3. Sc. 3. in words equally emphatical thus owns the sufferings of his mind, while he professes revenge: “For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leap'd into my seat. The thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards.”— “But, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er, Who doats, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves.” Tollet. The great difficulty is to understand in what sense any man can be said to be almost damn'd in a fair wife; or fair phyz, as Sir T. Hanmer proposes to read. I cannot find any ground for supposing that either the one or the other have been reputed to be damnable sins in any religion. The poet has used the same mode of expression in The Merchant of Venice, Act 1. Sc. 1: “O my Anthonio, I do know of those “Who therefore only are reputed wise, “For saying nothing; who, I'm very sure, “If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, “Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.” And there the allusion is evident to the gospel-judgment against those, who call their brothers fools. I am therefore inclined to believe, that the true reading here is, “A fellow almost damn'd in a fair life;” and that Shakespeare alludes to the judgment denounced in the gospel against those of whom all men speak well. The character of Cassio is certainly such, as would be very likely to draw upon him all the peril of this denunciation, literally understood. Well-bred, easy, sociable, good-natured; with abilities enough to make him agreeable and useful, but not sufficient to excite the envy of his equals, or to alarm the jealousy of his superiors. It may be observed too, that Shakespeare has thought it proper to make Iago, in several other passages, bear his testimony to the amiable qualities of his rival. In Act 5. Scene 1. he speaks thus of him; “&lblank; If Cassio do remain, “He hath a daily beauty in his life, “That makes me ugly.” I will only add, that, however hard or far-fetch'd this allusion (whether Shakespeare's, or only mine) may seem to be, archbishop Sheldon had exactly the same conceit, when he made that singular compliment, as the writer calls it, [Biog. Britan. Art. Temple] to a nephew of Sir William Temple, that “he had the curse of the gospel, because all men spoke well of him.” Tyrwhitt. Mr. Tyrwhitt's ingenious emendation is supported by a passage in the Merry Wives of Windsor, where good life is used for a fair character: “Defend your reputation, or bid farewel to your good life for ever.” Malone. The poet, I think, does not appear to have meant Iago to be a Florentine, which has hitherto been inferred from the following passage in Act 3. Scene 1. where Cassio, speaking of Iago, says, &lblank; I never knew A Florentine more kind and honest. It is surely not uncommon for us to say in praise of a foreigner, that we never knew one of our own countrymen of a more friendly disposition. This, I believe, is all that Cassio meant by his observation. From the already-mentioned passage in Act 3. Scene 3. it is certain (as Sir T. Hanmer has observed) that Iago was a Venetian: “I know our country disposition well, “In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks “They dare not shew their husbands.” Again, “Alas, my friend and my dear countryman “Roderigo, &c.” “Gra. What of Venice? “Iago. Even he, &c. That Cassio, however, was married, is not sufficiently implied in the words, a fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife, since they may mean, according to Iago's licentious manner of expressing himself, no more than a man very near being married. This seems to have been the case in respect of Cassio, Act 4. Scene 1. Iago, speaking to him of Bianca, says—Why the cry goes that you shall marry her. Cassio acknowledges that such a report has been raised, and adds, This is the monkey's own giving out: she is persuaded I will marry her out of her own love and self-flattery, not out of my promise. Iago then, having heard this report before, very naturally circulates it in his present conversation with Roderigo. If Shakespeare, however, designed Bianca for a curtizan of Cyprus (where Cassio had not yet been, and had therefore never seen her) Iago cannot be supposed to allude to the report concerning his marriage with her, and consequently this part of my argument must fall to the ground. Had Shakespeare, consistently with Iago's character, meant to make him say that Cassio was actually damn'd in being married to a handsome woman, he would have made him say it outright, and not have interposed the palliative almost. Whereas what he says at present amounts to no more than that (however near his marriage) he is not yet completely damn'd, because he is not absolutely married. The succeeding parts of Iago's conversation sufficiently evince, that the poet thought no mode of conception or expression too brutal for the character. Steevens.

Note return to page 978 9&lblank; theoric,] Theoric, for theory. Steevens.

Note return to page 979 1Wherein the tongued consuls &lblank;] So the generality of the impressions read; but the oldest quarto has it toged; the senators, that assisted the duke in council, in their proper gowns.—But let me explain why I have ventured to substitute counsellors in the room of consuls: the Venetian nobility constitute the great council of the senate, and are a part of the administration; and summoned to assist and counsel the Doge, who is prince of the senate. So that they may very properly be called Counsellors. Though the government of Venice was democratic at first, under consuls and tribunes; that form of power has been totally abrogated, since Doges have been elected. Theobald. Wherein the toged consuls &lblank;] Consuls, for counsellors. Warburton. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1218 By toged perhaps is meant peaceable, in opposition to the warlike qualifications of which he had been speaking. He might have formed the word, in allusion to the Latin adage—Cedant arma togæ. Steevens.

Note return to page 980 2&lblank; must be led and calm'd] So the old quarto. The first folio reads be-lee'd: but that spoils the measure. I read let, hindered. Warburton. Be-lee'd suits to calm'd, and the measure is not less perfect than in many other places. Johnson. Be-lee'd and be-calm'd are terms of navigation. I have been informed that one vessel is said to be in the Lee of another when it is so placed that the wind is intercepted from it. Iago's meaning therefore is, that Cassio had got the wind of him, and be-calm'd him from going on. To be-calm (as I learn from Falconer's Marine Dictionary) is likewise to obstruct the current of the wind in its passage to a ship, by any contiguous object. Steevens.

Note return to page 981 3&lblank; this counter-caster;] It was anciently the practice to reckon up sums with counters. To this Shakespeare alludes again in Cymbeline, Act 5. “&lblank; it sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debtor and creditor, but it: of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge. Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters,” &c. Again, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “I wyl cast my counters, or with counters, make all my reckenynges.” Steevens.

Note return to page 982 4&lblank; bless the mark!] Kelly, in his comments on Scots proverbs, observes, that the Scots, when they compare person to person, use this exclamation. Steevens.

Note return to page 983 5&lblank; his Moorship's &lblank;] The first quarto reads—his worship's &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 984 6&lblank; by letter, &lblank;] By recommendation from powerful friends. Johnson.

Note return to page 985 7Not by the old gradation, &lblank;] What is old gradation? He immediately explains gradation very properly. But the idea of old does not come into it: &lblank; where each second Stood heir to the first. &lblank; I read therefore, Not (as of old) gradation—i. e. it does not go by gradation, as it did of old. Warburton. Old gradation, is gradation established by ancient practice. Where is the difficulty? Johnson.

Note return to page 986 8If I in any just term am affin'd] Affined is the reading of the third quarto and the first folio. The second quarto and all the modern editions have assign'd. The meaning is, Do I stand within any such terms of propinquity or relation to the Moor, as that it is my duty to love him? Johnson.

Note return to page 987 9&lblank; honest knaves. &lblank;] Knave is here for servant, but with a mixture of sly contempt. Johnson.

Note return to page 988 1In compliment extern, &lblank;] In that which I do only for an outward shew of civility. Johnson. So, in Sir W. D'Avenant's Albovine, 1629: “&lblank; that in sight extern “A patriarch seems.” Steevens.

Note return to page 989 2For daws &lblank;] The first quarto reads, for doves &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 990 3What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe?] Full fortune is, I believe, a complete piece of good fortune, as in another scene of this play a full soldier is put for a complete soldier. To owe is in ancient language, to own, to possess. Steevens.

Note return to page 991 4As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spy'd in populous cities.] This is not sense, take it which way you will. It night and negligence relate to spied, it is absurd to say, the fire was spied by negligence. If night and negligence refer only to the time and occasion, it should then be night, and through negligence. Otherwise the particle by would be made to signify time applied to one word, and cause applied to the other. We should read therefore, Is spred, by which all these faults are avoided. But what is of most weight, the similitude, thus emended, agrees best with the fact it is applied to. Had this notice been given to Brabantio before his daughter ran away and married, it might then indeed have been well enough compared to the alarm given of a fire just spied, as soon it as was begun. But being given after the parties were bedded, it was more fitly compared to a fire spred by night and negligence, so as not to be extinguished. Warburton. The particle is used equivocally; the same liberty is taken by writers more correct. The wonderful creature! a woman of reason! Never grave out of pride, never gay out of season. Johnson. Dr. Warburton seems to have forgot that the marriage was not consummated till the parties arrived at Cyprus: Come, my dear love! The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; That profit's yet to come 'twixt me and you. Steevens.

Note return to page 992 5Are your doors lock'd?] The first quarto reads, Are all doors lock'd? Steevens.

Note return to page 993 6&lblank; is burst,] i. e. broken. Burst for broke is used in our author's King Henry IV. P. 2: “&lblank; and then he burst his head for crowding among the marshal's men.” Steevens.

Note return to page 994 7Grange.] &lblank; this is Venice; My house is not a grange.— That is, “you are in a populous city, not in a lone house, where a robbery might easily be committed.” Grange is strictly and properly the farm of a monastery, where the religious reposited their corn. Grangia Lat. from Granum. But in Lincolnshire, and in other northern counties, they call every lone house, or farm which stands solitary, a grange. Warton. So, in T. Heywood's English Traveller, 1633: “Who can blame him to absent himself from home, “And make his father's house but as a grange, &c.?” Again, in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1599: “&lblank; soon was I train'd from court “To a solitary grange, &c.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; at the moated grange resides this dejected Mariana.” Steevens.

Note return to page 995 8&lblank; your nephews neigh to you:] Nephew, in this instance, has the power of the Latin word nepos, and signifies a grandson, or any lineal descendant, however remote. So, in Spenser: “And all the sons of these five brethren reign'd “By due success, and all their nephews late, “Even thrice eleven descents the crown obtain'd.” Again, in Chapman's version of the Odyssey, B. 24. Laertes says of Telemachus his grandson: “&lblank; to behold my son “And nephew close in such contention.” Sir W. Dugdale very often employs the word in this sense; and without it, it would not be very easy to shew how Brabantio could have nephews by the marriage of his daughter. Ben Jonson likewise uses it with the same meaning. The alliteration in this passage caused Shakespeare to have recourse to it. Steevens.

Note return to page 996 9&lblank; gennets for germans.] A jennet is a Spanish horse. So, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1630: “&lblank; there stays within my tent “A winged jennet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 997 1What profane wretch art thou?] That is, what wretch of gross and licentious language? In that sense Shakespeare often uses the word profane. Johnson. It is so used by other writers of the same age: “How far off dwells the house surgeon?   “&lblank; You are a profane fellow, i'faith.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub; “By the sly justice, and his clerk profane.” Steevens.

Note return to page 998 2&lblank; your daughter and the Moor are making the beast with two backs.] This is an ancient proverbial expression in the French language, whence Shakespeare probably borrowed it; for in the Dictionaire des Proverbes Françoises, par G. D. B. Brusselles, 1710, 12mo, I find the following article: “Faire la Bête a deux Dos” pour dire faire l'amour. Percy. In the Dictionaire Comique, par le Roux, 1750, this phrase is more particularly explained under the article Bete. “Faire la bete a deux dos.—Maniere de parler qui signifie etre couché avec une femme; faire le deduit.”—“Et faisoient tous deux souvent ensemble la bete a deux dos joyeusement.”—Rabelais, liv. I. There was a translation of Rabelais published in the time of Shakespeare. Malone.

Note return to page 999 3If't be, &c.] The lines printed in crotchets are not in the first edition, but in the folio of 1623. Johnson.

Note return to page 1000 4&lblank; this odd even &lblank;] The even of night is midnight, the time when night is divided into even parts. Johnson. Odd is here ambiguously used, as it signifies strange, uncouth, or unwonted; and as it is opposed to even. This expression, however explained, is very harsh; and the poet might have written—At this odd steven. Steven is an ancient word signifying time. So, in the old ballad of Robin Hood and Guy of Gilborne: “We may chance to meet with Robin Hood   “Here at some unsett steven.” Again, in the Booke of the moste victoryous Prynce Guy of Warwick, bl. 1. no date: “Nowe we be mette at unsette steven, “Therefore we shall make us even.” Again, in Chaucer's Knight's Tale, late edit. ver. 1526: “For al day meten men at unset steven” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1219

Note return to page 1001 5To an extravagant, &c.] The old copies read, In an extravagant, &c. Mr. Pope made this change, which seems to be necessary. Extravagant is here used in its Latin signification, for wandering. Thus in Hamlet: “&lblank; The extravagant and erring spirit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1002 6For this deluding you.] The first quarto reads, For this delusion. Steevens.

Note return to page 1003 7To be produc'd] The folio reads, producted. Steevens.

Note return to page 1004 8&lblank; some check,] Some rebuke. Johnson.

Note return to page 1005 9&lblank; cast him: &lblank;] That is, dismiss him; reject him. We still say, a cast coat, and a cast serving-man. Johnson.

Note return to page 1006 1And what's to come of my despised time,] Why despised time? We should read, despited time, i. e. vexatious. Warburton. Despised time, is time of no value; time in which “There's nothing serious in mortality, “The wine of life is drawn, and the mere dregs “Are left this vault to brag of.” Macbeth. Johnson. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; expire the term “Of a despised life clos'd in my breast.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1007 2&lblank; O, thou deceiv'st me Past thought!—] Thus the quarto 1622. The folio 1623, and the quartos 1630 and 1655 read, O, she deceives me Past thought. I have chosen the apostrophe to his absent daughter, as the most spirited of the two readings. Steevens.

Note return to page 1008 3By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abus'd? &lblank;] By which the faculties of a young virgin may be infatuated, and made subject to illusions and to false imagination: “Wicked dreams abuse “The curtain'd sleep.” Macbeth. Johnson.

Note return to page 1009 4&lblank; and maidhood—] The quartos read—and manhood—. Steevens.

Note return to page 1010 5Pray you, lead on.] The first quarto reads, Pray lead me on. Steevens.

Note return to page 1011 6&lblank; of might.] The first quarto reads—of night. Steevens.

Note return to page 1012 7&lblank; stuff o' the conscience] This expression to common readers appears harsh. Stuff of the conscience is, substance, or essence of the conscience. Stuff is a word of great force in the Teutonic languages. The elements are called in Dutch, Hoefd stoffen, or head stuffs. Johnson. Again, in King Henry VIII: You're full of heavenly stuff, &c. Frisch's German Dictionary gives this explanation of the word stoff:—materies ex qua aliquid fieri poterit. Steevens.

Note return to page 1013 8&lblank; the magnifico] “The chief men of Venice are by a peculiar name called Magnifici, i. e. magnificoes.” Minshew's Dictionary. See too Volpone. Tollet. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1221

Note return to page 1014 9As double as the duke's: &lblank;] Rymer seems to have had his eye on this passage, amongst others, where he talks so much of the impropriety and barbarity in the stile of this play. But it is an elegant Grecism. As double, signifies as large, as extensive; for thus the Greeks use &grd;&gri;&grp;&grl;&gro;&gruc;&grst;. Diosc. l. 2. c. 213. And in the same manner and construction, the Latins sometimes used duplex. And the old French writers say, La plus double. Dr. Bentley has been as severe on Milton for as elegant a Grecism: Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove, lib. 9. ver. 396. It is an imitation of the &grP;&graa;&grr;&grq;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gres;&grk; &grq;&gra;&grl;&graa;&grm;&gro;&gru; of Theocritus, for an unmarried virgin. Warburton. This note has been much censured by Mr. Upton, who denies that the quotation is in Dioscorides, and disputes, not without reason, the interpretation of Theocritus. All this learning, if it had even been what it endeavours to be thought, is, in this place, superfluous. There is no ground of supposing, that our author copied or knew the Greek phrase; nor does it follow, that, because a word has two senses in one language, the word which in another answers to one sense, should answer to both, Manus, in Latin, signifies both a hand and a troop of soldiers, but we cannot say, that the captain marched at the head of his hand; or, that he laid his troop upon his sword. It is not always in books that the meaning is to be sought of this writer, who was much more acquainted with naked reason and with living manners. Double has here its natural sense. The president of every deliberative assembly has a double voice. In our courts, the chief justice and one of the inferior judges prevail over the other two, because the chief justice has a double voice. Brabantio had, in his effect, though not by law, yet by weight and influence, a voice not actual and formal, but potential and operative, as double, that is, a voice that when a question was suspended, would turn the balance as effectually as the duke's. Potential is used in the sense of science; a caustic is called potential fire. Johnson. I believe here is a mistake. The chief justice and one of the inferior judges do not prevail over the other two. The lord mayor in the court of aldermen has a double voice. Tollet.

Note return to page 1015 1&lblank; men of royal siege; &lblank;] Men who have sat upon royal thrones. The quarto has, &lblank; men of royal height. Siege is used for seat by other authors. So, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 575: “&lblank; there was set up a throne or siege royall for the king.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “Thy wonted siege of honour safely climb.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. 2. c. 2: “From lofty siege began these words aloud to sound.” Again, b. 2. c. 7: “A stately siege of soveraigne majestye.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1016 2&lblank; and my demerits] Demerits has the same meaning in our author, and many others of that age, as merits: “Opinion that so sticks on Martius, may “Of his demerits rob Cominius.” Coriolanus. So, in Shirley's Humorous Courtier, 1640: “&lblank; we have heard so much of your demerits, “That 'twere injustice not to cherish you.” Again, in Dugdale's Warwickshire, p. 850. edit. 1730: “Henry Conway, esq. for his singular demerits received the dignity of knighthood.” Mereo and demereo had the same meaning in the Roman language. Steevens.

Note return to page 1017 3&lblank; speak, unbonnetted, &lblank;] Thus all the copies read. It should be unbonnetting, i. e. without putting off the bonnet. Pope. &lblank; and my demerits May speak unbonnetted to as proud a fortune As this that I have reach'd. &lblank; Thus all the copies read this passage. But, to speak unbonnetted, is to speak with the cap off, which is directly opposite to the poet's meaning. Othello means to say, that his birth and services set him upon such a rank, that he may speak to a senator of Venice with his hat on; i. e. without shewing any marks of deference or inequality. I therefore am inclined to think Shakespeare wrote: May speak, and bonnetted, &c. Theobald. I do not see the propriety of Mr. Pope's emendation, though adopted by Dr. Warburton. Unbonnetting may as well be, not putting on, as not putting off, the bonnet. Hanmer reads e'en bonnetted. Johnson. Bonneter (says Cotgrave) is to put off one's cap. So, in Coriolanus: “Those who are supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted without any further deed to heave them at all into their estimation.” Unbonneted may therefore signify, without taking the cap off. We might, I think, venture to read imbonnetted. It is common with Shakespeare to make or use words compounded in the same manner. Such are impawn, impaint, impale, and immask. Of all the readings hitherto proposed, that of Theobald is, I think, the best. Steevens.

Note return to page 1018 4&lblank; unhoused &lblank;] Free from domestic cares. A thought natural to an adventurer. Johnson.

Note return to page 1019 5For the sea's worth.] I would not marry her, though she were as rich as the Adriatic, which the Doge annually marries. Johnson. I believe the common and obvious meaning is the true one. The same words occur in Sir W. D'Avenant's Cruel Brother, 1630: &lblank; he would not lose that privilege “For the sea's worth.” Perhaps the phrase is proverbial. Pliny the naturalist has a chapter on the riches of the sea. Again, in the Winter's Tale: &lblank; for all the sun sees, or The close earth wombs, or the profound sea hides In unknown fathoms, &c. Again, in King Henry V. Act 1: &lblank; as rich with praise, As is the ouze, and bottom of the sea, With sunken wreck, and sumless treasuries. Steevens.

Note return to page 1020 6&lblank; sequent messengers] The first quarto reads—frequent messengers. Steevens.

Note return to page 1021 7&lblank; consuls,] Hanmer reads, council. Theobald would have us read counsellors. Venice was originally governed by consuls: and consuls seems to have been commonly used for counsellors, as before in this play. In Albion's Triumph, a masque, 1631, the emperor Albanact is said to be attended by fourteen consuls:—again, the habits of the consuls were after the same manner. Geoffery of Monmouth, and Matthew Paris after him, call both dukes and earls, consuls. Steevens.

Note return to page 1022 8The senate hath sent out &lblank;] The early quartos, and all the modern editors, have, The senate sent above three several quests. The folio, The senate hath sent about, &c. that is, about the city. I have adopted the reading of the folio. Johnson. Quests are, on this occasion, searches. So, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “Now, if in all his quests, he be witheld.”— Steevens.

Note return to page 1023 9&lblank; a land-carrack;— A carrack is a ship of great bulk, and commonly of great value; perhaps what we now call a galleon. Johnson. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Coxcomb: “&lblank; they'll be freighted; “They're made like carracks, all for strength and stowage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1024 1To who?] It is somewhat singular that Cassio should ask this question. In the 3d Scene of the 3d Act, Iago says: Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, Know of your love? Oth. From first to last. He who was acquainted with the object courted by his friend, could have little reason for doubting to whom he would be married. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1222

Note return to page 1025 2Have with you.] This expression denotes readiness. So, in the ancient Interlude of Nature, bl. 1. no date: “And saw that Glotony wold nedys be gone; “Have with thee, Glotony, quoth he anon, “For I must go wyth thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1026 3&lblank; be advis'd;] That is, be cool; be cautious; be discreet. Johnson.

Note return to page 1027 4The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,] Curled is elegantly and ostentatiously dressed. He had not the hair particularly in his thoughts. Johnson. On another occasion Shakespeare employs the same expression, and evidently alludes to the hair. If she first meet the curled Antony, &c. Sir W. D'Avenant uses the same expression in his Just Italian, 1630: “The curl'd and silken nobles of the town.” Again, “Such as the curled youth of Italy.” I believe Shakespeare has the same meaning in the present instance. Steevens.

Note return to page 1028 5&lblank; to fear,] i. e. to terrify. So, in King Henry VI: For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all. Steevens.

Note return to page 1029 6Judge me the world, &c.] The lines following in crotchets are not in the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 1030 7Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals, That weaken motion:] Brabantio is here accusing Othello of having used some foul play, and intoxicated Desdemona by drugs and potions to win her over to his love. But why, drugs to weaken motion? How then could she have run away with him voluntarily from her father's house? Had she been averse to choosing Othello, though he had given her medicines that took away the use of her limbs, might she not still have retained her senses, and opposed the marriage? Her father, it is evident, from several of his speeches, is positive, that she must have been abused in her rational faculties; or she could not have made so preposterous a choice, as to wed with a Moor, a Black, and refuse the finest young gentlemen in Venice. What then have we to do with her motion being weakened? If I understand any thing of the poet's meaning here, I cannot but think he must have wrote: Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals, That weaken notion. i. e. her apprehension, right conception and idea of things, understanding, judgment, &c. Theobald. Hanmer reads with equal probability: That waken motion.— Johnson. Motion in a subsequent scene of this play is used in the very sense in which Hanmer would employ it: “But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts.” Steevens. Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; For there's no motion “That tends to vice in man, but I affirm “It is the woman's part.” Again, in A Mad World my Masters, by Middleton, 1640: “And in myself sooth up adulterous motions, “And such an appetite as I know damns me.” Again, in A Warning for faire Women, 1599: “Pray God that captain Browne hath not been mov'd.” “By some ill motion.” Drugs or love-powders, as they are sometimes called, may operate as enflamers of the blood—may waken motion. But I believe no drugs have yet been found out that can fascinate the understanding or affections; that can weaken the judgment without entirely subverting it. Opiates, or intoxicating potions may set the senses to sleep, but cannot distort or pervert the intellects but by destroying them for a time. However, it may be said, that Brabantio believed in the efficacy of such drugs, and therefore might with propriety talk of their weakening the understanding.— The reading proposed by Theobald is, it must be acknowledged, strongly supported by a passage in King Lear, Act 2. Sc. 4: &lblank; His notion weakens, his discernings Are lethargy'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 1031 8For an abuser, &c.] The first quarto reads, Such an abuser, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1032 9To bring &lblank;] The quartos read—To bear &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1033 1Bond-slaves, and pagans, &lblank;] Mr. Theobald alters pagans to pageants for this reason, “That pagans are as strict and moral all the world over, as the most regular Christians, in the preservation of private property.” But what then? The speaker had not this high opinion of pagan morality, as is plain from hence, that this important discovery, so much to the honour of paganism, was first made by our editor. Warburton. The meaning of these expressions of Brabantio seems to have been mistaken. I believe the morality of either christians or pagans was not in the author's thoughts. He alludes to the common condition of all blacks, who come from their own country, both slaves and pagans; and uses the words in contempt of Othello and his complexion.—If this Moor is now suffered to escape with impunity, it will be such an encouragement to his black countrymen, that we may expect to see all the first offices of our state filled up by the pagans and bond-slaves of Africa. Steevens.

Note return to page 1034 2There is no composition &lblank;] Composition, for consistency, concordancy. Warburton.

Note return to page 1035 3As in these cases where they aim reports,] These Venetians seem to have had a very odd sort of persons in employment, who did all by hazard, as to what, and how, they should report; for this is the sense of man's aiming reports. The true reading, without question, is, &lblank; where the aim reports. i. e. where there is no better ground for information than conjecture: which not only improves the sense, but, by changing the verb into a noun, and the noun into a verb, mends the expression. Warburton. The folio has, &lblank; the aim reports. But, they aim reports, has a sense sufficiently easy and commodious. Where men report not by certain knowledge, but by aim and conjecture. Johnson. To aim is to conjecture. So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “But fearing lest my jealous aim mightier.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1223

Note return to page 1036 4By Signior Angelo.] This hemistich is wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1037 5By no assay of reason. &lblank;] Bring it to the test, examine it by reason as we examine metals by the assay, it will be found counterfeit by all trials. Johnson.

Note return to page 1038 6&lblank; facile question &lblank;] Question is for the act of seeking. With more easy endeavour. Johnson.

Note return to page 1039 7For that it stands not, &c.] The seven following lines are added since the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 1040 8&lblank; warlike brace,] State of defence. To arm was called to brace on the armour. Johnson.

Note return to page 1041 9To wake, and wage, a danger profitless.] To wage here, as in many other places in Shakespeare, signifies to fight, to combat. Thus, in King Lear: To wage against the enmity of the air. It took its rise from the more common expression, to wage war. Steevens.

Note return to page 1042 1Ay, so, &c,] This line is not in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1043 2&lblank; they do re-stem] The quartos mean to read re-sterne, though in the first of them the word is mispelt. Steevens.

Note return to page 1044 3And prays you to believe him.] The late learned and ingenious Mr. Thomas Clark, of Lincoln's Inn, read the passage thus: And prays you to relieve him. But the present reading may stand. He intreats you not to doubt the truth of this intelligence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1045 4&lblank; general care] The word care, which encumbers the verse, was probably added by the players. Shakespeare uses the general as a substantive, though, I think, not in this sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 1046 5Take hold &lblank;] The first quarto reads, Take any hold &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1047 6By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks:] Rymer has ridiculed this circumstance as unbecoming (both for its weakness and superstition) the gravity of the accuser, and the dignity of the tribunal; but his criticism only exposes his own ignorance. The circumstance was not only exactly in character, but urged with the greatest address, as the thing chiefly to be insisted on. For, by the Venetian law, the giving love-potions was very criminal, as Shakespeare without question well understood. Thus the law, Delii maleficii et herbarie, cap. 17. of the Code, intitled, “Della promission del maleficio. Statuimo etiamdio, che-se alcun homo, o femina harra fatto maleficii, iquali se dimandano vulgarmente amatorie, o veramente alcuni altri maleficii, che alcun homo o femina fe havesson in odio, fia frusta et bollado, et che hara consegliado patisca simile pena.” And therefore in the preceding scene Brabantio calls them, &lblank; Arts inhibited, and out of warrant. Warburton. Though I believe Shakespeare knew no more of this Venetian law than I do, yet he was well acquainted with the edicts of that sapient prince king James the first, against &lblank; practisers Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. Steevens.

Note return to page 1048 7Being not, &c.] This line is wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1049 8Stood in your action.] Were the man exposed to your charge or accusation. Johnson.

Note return to page 1050 9The very head and front of my offending] The main, the whole, unextenuated. Johnson.

Note return to page 1051 1And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace;] This apology, if addressed to his mistress, had been well expressed. But what he wanted, in speaking before a Venetian senate, was not the soft blandishment of speech, but the art and method of masculine eloquence. The old quarto reads it, therefore, as I am persuaded Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; the set phrase of peace. Warburton. Soft is the reading of the folio. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1226

Note return to page 1052 2Their dearest action &lblank;] That is dear, for which much is paid, whether money or labour; dear action, is action performed at great expence, either of ease or safety. Johnson.

Note return to page 1053 3&lblank; unvarnished &lblank;] The second quarto reads—unravished &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1054 4Blush'd at herself; &lblank;] Mr. Pope reads—at itself, but without necessity. Shakespeare, like other writers of his age, frequently uses the personal, instead of the neutral pronoun. Steevens.

Note return to page 1055 5To vouch, &c.] The first folio unites this speech with the preceding one of Brabantio; and instead of certain reads wider. Steevens.

Note return to page 1056 6&lblank; overt test,] Open proofs, external evidence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1057 7&lblank; thin habits, &lblank; Of modern seeming, &lblank;] Weak shew of slight appearance. Johnson. The first quarto reads: These are thin habits, and poore likelyhoods Of modern seemings you prefer against him. Steevens.

Note return to page 1058 8&lblank; the Sagittary,] Means the sign of the fictitious creature so called, i. e. an animal compounded of man and horse, and armed with a bow and quiver. Steevens.

Note return to page 1059 9The trust, &c.] This line is wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1060 1&lblank; as truly] The first quarto reads, as faithful. Steevens.

Note return to page 1061 2I do confess, &c.] This line is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1062 3And portance, &c.] I have restored, And with it all my travel's history: From the old edition. It is in the rest, And portance in my travel's history. Rymer, in his criticism on this play, has changed it to portents, instead of portance. Pope. Mr. Pope has restored a line, to which there is little objection, but which has no force. I believe portance was the author's word in some revised copy. I read thus, Of being—sold To slavery, of my redemption thence, And portance in't; my travel's history. My redemption from slavery, and behaviour in it. Johnson. Portance is a word already used in Coriolanus: &lblank; took from you The apprehension of his present portance, Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion, &c. Again, in the comedy of Albumazar, 1610: “What a grave portance!” Spenser, in the 3d Canto of the 2d Book of the Faery Queen, like wise uses it: “But for in court gay portaunce he perceiv'd.” Again, ibid. “And by her stately portance, borne of heavenly birth.” Again, b. 2. c. 7: “His portaunce terrible, and stature tall.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1063 4Wherein of antres vast, &c.] Discourses of this nature made the subject of the politest conversations, when voyages into, and discoveries of, the new world were all in vogue. So when the Bastard Faulconbridge, in King John, describes the behaviour of upstart greatness, he makes one of the essential circumstances of it to be this kind of table-talk. The fashion then running altogether in this way, it is no wonder a young lady of quality should be struck with the history of an adventurer. So that Rymer, who professedly ridicules this whole circumstance, and the nobler author of the Characteristics, who more obliquely sneers it, only expose their own ignorance. Warburton. Whoever ridicules this account of the progress of love, shews his ignorance, not only of history, but of nature and manners. It is no wonder that, in any age, or in any nation, a lady, recluse, timorous, and delicate, should desire to hear of events and scenes which she could never see, and should admire the man who had endured dangers, and performed actions, which, however great, were yet magnified by her timidity. Johnson. Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle, &c.] Thus it is in all the old editions; but Mr. Pope has thought fit to change the epithet. Desarts idle; in the former editions (says he) doubtless, a corruption from wild.—But he must pardon me, if I do not concur in thinking this so doubtless. I do not know whether Mr. Pope has observed it, but I know that Shakespeare, especially in descriptions, is fond of using the more uncommon word in a poetic latitude. And idle, in several other passages, he employs in these acceptations, wild, useless, uncultivated, &c. Theobald. Every mind is liable to absence and inadvertency, else Pope could never have rejected a word so poetically beautiful. Idle is an epithet used to express the infertility of the chaotic state, in the Saxon translation of the Pentateuch. Johnson. So, in the Comedy of Errors: Usurping ivy, briar or idle moss. Steevens. The same epithet is confirmed by another passage in this act of Othello: “&lblank; Either have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry.” Malone. Mr. Pope might have found the epithet wild in all the three last folios. Steevens. &lblank; antres &lblank;] French, grottos. Pope. Rather caves and dens. Johnson.

Note return to page 1064 5It was my hint to speak, &lblank;] This implies it as done by a trap laid for her: but the old quarto reads hent, i. e. use, custom. Warburton. Hent is not use in Shakespeare, nor, I believe, in any other author. Hint, or cue, is commonly used for occasion of speech, which is explained by, such was the process, that is, the course of the tale required it. If hent be restored, it may be explained by handle. I had a handle, or opportunity, to speak of cannibals. Johnson. Hent occurs at the conclusion of the 4th Act of Measure for Measure. It is derived from the Saxon Hentan, and means, to take hold of, to seize. “&lblank; the gravest citizens “Have bent the gates.” But in the very next page Othello says: &lblank; Upon this hint I spake. It is certain therefore that change is unnecessary. Steevens.

Note return to page 1065 6&lblank; men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. &lblank;] Of these men there is an account in the interpolated travels of Mandeville, a book of that time. Johnson. The Cannibals and Anthropophagi were known to an English audience before Shakespeare introduced them. In the History of Orlando Furioso, play'd for the entertainment of Queen Elizabeth, they are mentioned in the very first scene; and Raleigh speaks of people whose heads appear not above their shoulders. Again, in the Tragedy of Locrine, 1595: “Or where the bloody Anthropophagi, “With greedy jaws devour the wandring wights.” The poet might likewise have read of them in Pliny's Nat. Hist. translated by P. Holland, 1601, and in Stowe's Chronicle. Steevens.

Note return to page 1066 7&lblank; and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse:] So, in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion: “Hang both your greedy ears upon my lips; “Let them devour my speech.” Malone.

Note return to page 1067 8But not intentively: &lblank;] Thus the eldest quarto. The folio reads, instinctively. Perhaps it should be, distinctively. The old word, however, may stand. Intention and attention were once synonymous. So, in a play called the Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Grace! at sitting down they cannot intend it for hunger,” i. e. attend to it. Desdemona, who was often called out of the room on the score of house-affairs, could not have heard Othello's tale intentively, i. e. with attention to all its parts. Again, in Chapman's Version of the Iliad. B. 6: “Hector intends his brother's will; but first, &c.” Again in the tenth Book; “&lblank; all with intentive ear “Converted to the enemies' tents &lblank;” Again, in the eighth Book of the Odyssey: “For our ships know th' expressed minds of men; “And will so most intentively retaine “Their scopes appointed, that they never erre.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1068 9&lblank; a world of sighs:] It was kisses in the later editions: but this is evidently the true reading. The lady had been forward indeed to give him a world of kisses upon the bare recital of his story; nor does it agree with the following lines. Pope.

Note return to page 1069 1Destruction, &c.] The quartos read, destruction light on me. Steevens.

Note return to page 1070 2You are the lord of duty,] The first quarto reads, You are lord of all my duty. Steevens.

Note return to page 1071 3Which, &c.] This line is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1072 4Let me speak like your self; &lblank;] It should be like our self, i. e. let me mediate between you as becomes a prince and common father of his people: for the prince's opinion, here delivered, was quite contrary to Brabantio's sentiment. Warburton. Hanmer reads, Let me now speak more like your self. Dr. Warburton's emendation is specious; but I do not see how Hanmer's makes any alteration. The duke seems to mean, when he says he will speak like Brabantio, that he will speak sententiously. Johnson. Let me speak like yourself: &lblank;] i. e. let me speak as yourself would speak, were you not too much heated with passion. Sir J. Reynolds.

Note return to page 1073 5&lblank; as a grize, &lblank;] Grize from degrees. A grize is a step. So in Timon: “&lblank; for every grize of fortune “Is smooth'd by that below.”— Ben Jonson, in his Sejanus, gives the original word. “Whom when he saw lie spread on the degrees.” In the will of K. Henry VI. where the dimensions of King's College chapel at Cambridge are set down, the word occurs, as spelt in some of the old editions of Shakespeare. “&lblank; From the provost's stall, unto the Greece called Gradus Chori, 90 feet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1074 6Into your favour.] This is wanting in the folio, but found in the quarto. Johnson.

Note return to page 1075 7New mischief on.] The quartos read—more mischief. &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1076 8But the free comfort which from thence he hears:] But the moral precepts of consolation, which are liberally bestowed on occasion of the sentence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1077 9But words are words; I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.] The duke had by sage sentences been exhorting Brabantio to patience, and to forget the grief of his daughter's stolen marriage, to which Brabantio is made very pertinently to reply to this effect: “My lord, I apprehend very well the wisdom of your advice; but though you would comfort me, words are but words; and the heart, already bruis'd, was never pierc'd, or wounded, through the ear.” It is obvious that the text must be restored thus: That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear. i. e. that the wounds of sorrow were ever cured, or a man made heart-whole merely by words of consolation. Warburton. That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.] Shakespeare was continually changing his first expression for another, either stronger or more uncommon; so that very often the reader, who has not the same continuity or succession of ideas, is at a loss for its meaning. Many of Shakespeare's uncouth strained epithets may be explained, by going back to the obvious and simple expression, which is most likely to occur to the mind in that state. I can imagine the first mode of expression that occurred to the poet was this: “The troubled heart was never cured by words.” To give it poetical force, he altered the phrase: “The wounded heart was never reached through the ear.” Wounded heart he changed to broken, and that to bruised, as a more uncommon expression. Reach he altered to touched, and the transition is then easy to pierced, i. e. thoroughly touched. When the sentiment is brought to this state, the commentator, without this unravelling clue, expounds piercing the heart in its common acceptation wounding the heart, which making in this place nonsense, is corrected to pieced the heart, which is very stiff, and, as Polonius says, is a vile phrase. Sir J. Reynolds. Pierced may be right. The consequence of a bruise is sometimes matter collected, and this can no way be cured without piercing or letting it out. Thus, in Hamlet: “It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, “While rank corruption mining all within, “Infects unseen.” Again, “This is th' imposthume of much wealth and peace, “That inward breaks, and shews no cause without, “Why the man dies.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1227

Note return to page 1078 1To slubber the gloss, &c.] To slubber, on this occasion, is to obscure. So, in the First Part of Jeronimo, &c. 1605: “The evening too begins to slubber day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1079 2&lblank; thrice-driven bed of down: &lblank;] A driven bed, is a bed for which the feathers are selected, by driving with a fan, which separates the light from the heavy. Johnson.

Note return to page 1080 3&lblank; I do agnize] i. e. acknowledge, confess, avow. So, in the old play of Cambyses: “The tenor of your princely will, from you for to agnize.” In this instance, however, it signifies to know; as likewise in the following, from the same piece: “Why so? I pray you let me agnize.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1081 4I crave fit disposition for my wife; Due reference of place, and exhibition, &c.] I desire, that proper disposition be made for my wife, that she may have precedency, and revenue, accommodation, and company, suitable to her rank. For reference of place, the old quartos have reverence, which Hanmer has received. I should read, Due preference of place.— Johnson. Exhibition is allowance. The word is at present used only at the universities. So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “What maintenance he from his friends receives, “Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.” Again, in King Edward IV. by Heywood, 1626: “Of all the exhibition yet bestow'd, “This woman's liberality likes me best.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1082 5&lblank; Most gracious duke, To my unfolding lend a gracious ear;] Thus the quarto 1622. The folio, to avoid the repetition of the same epithet, reads: “&lblank; your prosperous ear;” i. e. your propitious ear. Steevens.

Note return to page 1083 6&lblank; a charter in your voice] Let your favour privilege me. Johnson.

Note return to page 1084 7To assist my simpleness.] The first quarto reads this as an unfinished sentence: And if my simpleness &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1085 8My down-right violence and storm of fortunes] But what violence was it that drove her to run away with the Moor? We should read, My down-right violence to forms, my fortunes. Warburton. There is no need of this emendation. Violence is not violence suffered, but violence acted. Breach of common rules and obligations. The old quarto has, scorn of fortune, which is perhaps the true reading. Johnson. I would rather continue to read Storm of fortunes on account of the words that follow, viz. May trumpet to the world. So, in King Henry IV. P. 1: &lblank; the southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; so “Doth valour's shew and valour's worth divide “In storms of fortune.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1086 9Even to the very quality of my lord:] The first quarto reads, Even to the utmost pleasure, &c. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q12289Q1229

Note return to page 1087 1I saw Othello's visage in his mind;] It must raise no wonder, that I loved a man of an appearance so little engaging; I saw his face only in his mind; the greatness of his character reconciled me to his form. Johnson.

Note return to page 1088 2Your voices, lords:] The folio reads, Let her have your voice. Steevens.

Note return to page 1089 3Vouch with me &lblank;] Thus the second quarto and the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 1090 4Nor to comply with heat (the young affects, In my defunct) and proper satisfaction;] As this has been hitherto printed and stopped, it seems to me a period of as stubborn nonsense, as the editors have obtruded upon poor Shakespeare throughout his works. What a preposterous creature is this Othello made, to fall in love with and marry a fine young lady, when appetite and heat, and proper satisfaction, are dead and defunct in him! (For, defunct signifies nothing else, that I know of, either primitively or metaphorically:) but if we may take Othello's own word in the affair, he was not reduced to this fatal state. &lblank; or, for I am declin'd Into the vale of years; yet that's not much. Again, Why should our poet say (for so he says, as the passage has been pointed) that the young affect heat? Youth, certainly, has it, and has no occasion or pretence of affecting it. And, again, after defunct, would he add so absurd a collateral epithet as proper? But affects was not designed there as a verb, and defunct was not designed here at all. I have, by reading distinct, for defunct, rescued the poet's text from absurdity; and this I take to be the tenor of what he would say; “I do not beg her company with me, merely to please myself; nor to indulge the heat and affects (i. e. affections) of a new-married man, in my own distinct and proper satisfaction; but to comply with her in her request, and desire, of accompanying me.” Affects for affections, our author in several other passages uses. Theobald. Nor to comply with heat, the young affects In my defunct and proper satisfaction:] i. e. with that heat and new affections which the indulgence of my appetite has raised and created. This is the meaning of defunct, which has made all the difficulty of the passage. Warburton. I do not think that Mr. Theobald's emendation clears the text from embarrassment, though it is with a little imaginary improvement received by Hanmer, who reads thus: “Nor to comply with heat, affects the young In my distinct and proper satisfaction. Dr. Warburton's explanation is not more satisfactory: what made the difficulty will continue to make it. I read, &lblank; I beg it not, To please the palate of my appetite, Nor to comply with heat (the young affects In me defunct) and proper satisfaction; But to be free and bounteous to her mind. Affects stands here, not for love, but for passions, for that by which any thing is affected. I ask it not, says he, to please appetite, or satisfy loose desires, the passions of youth which I have now outlived, or for any particular gratification of myself, but merely that I may indulge the wishes of my wife. Mr. Upton had, before me, changed my to me; but he has printed young effects, not seeming to know that affects could be a noun. Johnson. Theobald has observed the impropriety of making Othello confess, that all youthful passions were defunct in him; and Hanmer's reading may, I think, be received with only a slight alteration. I would read, “&lblank; I beg it not, “To please the palate of my appetite, “Nor to comply with heat, and young affects, “In my distinct and proper satisfaction; “But to be, &c.” Affects stands for affections, and is used in that sense by Ben Jonson in The Case is alter'd, 1609: “&lblank; I shall not need to urge “The sacred purity of our affects.” So, in Middleton's Inner Temple Masque, 1619: “No doubt affects will be subdu'd by reason.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: For every man with his affects is born. Again, in The Wars of Cyrus, 1594: “The frail affects and errors of my youth.” Again, in the Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “Shut up thy daughter, bridle her affects.” There is, however, in The Bondman, by Massinger, a passage which seems to countenance and explain—the young affects in me defunct, &c. “&lblank; youthful heats, “That look no further than your outward form, “Are long since buried in me.” Timoleon is the speaker. Steevens. I would venture to make the two last lines change places. “&lblank; I therefore beg it not, “To please the palate of my appetite, “Nor to comply with heat, the young affects; “But to be free and bounteous to her mind, “In my defunct and proper satisfaction.” And would then recommend it to consideration, whether the word defunct (which would be the only remaining difficulty) is not capable of a signification, drawn from the primitive sense of its Latin original, which would very well agree with the context. Tyrwhitt. I would propose to read, In my defenct, or defenc'd, &c. i. e. I do not beg her company merely to please the palate of my appetite, nor to comply with the heat of lust which the young man affects, i. e. loves and is fond of, in a gratification which I have by marriage defenc'd, or inclosed and guarded, and made my own property. Unproper beds, in this play, mean, beds not peculiar or appropriate to the right owner, but common to other occupiers. In the Merry Wives, &c. the marriage vow is represented by Ford as the ward and defence of purity or conjugal fidelity. “I could drive her then from the ward of her purity, her reputation, and a thousand other her defences, which are now too strongly embattel'd against me.” The verb affect is more generally, among ancient authors, taken in the construction which I have given to it, than as Mr. Theobald would interpret it. It is so in this very play, “Not to affect many proposed matches,” means not to like, or be fond of many proposed matches. I am persuaded that the word defunct must be at all events ejected. Othello talks here of his appetite, and it is very plain that Desdemona to her death was fond of him after wedlock, and that he loved her. How then could his conjugal desires be dead or defunct? or how could they be defunct or discharged and performed, when the marriage was not consummated? Tollet.

Note return to page 1091 5&lblank; defend, &c.] To defend, is to forbid. So, in Chaucer's Wife of Bathes Prologue, late edit. ver. 5641: “Wher can ye seen in any maner age “That highe God defended mariage, “By expresse word?” From defendre Fr. Steevens.

Note return to page 1092 6&lblank; when light-wing'd toys Of feather'd Cupid, seel with wanton dulness My speculative and offic'd instrument—] Thus the folio. The quarto reads— &lblank; when light-wing'd toys And feather'd Cupid foils with wanton dulness My speculative and active instruments— All these words (in either copy) mean no more than this: When the pleasures and idle toys of love make me unfit either for seeing the duties of my office, or for the ready performance of them, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1093 7&lblank; my estimation!] Thus the folio; the quarto—reputation. Steevens.

Note return to page 1094 8If virtue no delighted beauty lack,] This is a senseless epithet. We should read belighted beauty, i. e. white and fair. Warburton. Hanmer reads, more plausibly, delighting. I do not know that belighted has any authority. I should rather read, If virtue no delight or beauty lack. Delight, for delectation, or power of pleasing, as it is frequently used. Johnson. There is no such word as—belighted. The plain meaning, I believe, is, if virtue comprehends every thing in itself, then your virtuous son-in-law of course is beautiful: he has that beauty which delights every one. Delighted, for delighting; Shakespeare often uses the active and passive participles indiscriminately. Of this practice I have already given many instances. The same sentiment seems to occur in Twelfth Night: In nature is no blemish, but the mind; None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind: Virtue is beauty.— Steevens. Delighted is used by Shakespeare in the sense of delighting, or delightful. See Cymbeline, Act 5: Whom best I love, I cross, to make my gift, The more delay'd, delighted. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 1095 9&lblank; have a quick eye to see;] Thus the eldest quarto. The folio reads, &lblank; if thou hast eyes to see. Steevens.

Note return to page 1096 1&lblank; best advantage.—] Fairest opportunity. Johnson.

Note return to page 1097 2&lblank; a Guinea-hen, &lblank;] A showy bird with fine feathers. Johnson. A Guinea-hen was anciently the cant term for a prostitute. So, in Albertus Wallenstein, 1640: “&lblank; Yonder's the cock o'the game “About to tread you Guinea-hen; they're billing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1098 3If the balance] The folio reads—If the brain. Steevens.

Note return to page 1099 4&lblank; a sect or scyon.] Thus the folio and quarto. A sect is what the more modern gardeners call a cutting. The modern editors read—a set. Steevens.

Note return to page 1100 5&lblank; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard. &lblank;] This is not English. We should read disseat thy favour, i. e. turn it out of its seat, change it for another. The word usurped directs us to this reading. Warburton. It is more English, to defeat, than disseat. To defeat, is to undo, to change. Johnson. Defeat is from defaire, Fr, to undo. Of the use of this I have already given several instances. Steevens.9Q1232

Note return to page 1101 6&lblank; it was a violent commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration.—] There seems to be an opposition of terms here intended, which has been lost in transcription. We may read, it was a violent conjunction, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration; or, what seems to me preferable, it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequel. Johnson. I believe the poet uses sequestration for sequel. He might conclude that it was immediately derived from sequor. Sequestration, however, may mean no more than separation. So, in this play —“a sequester from liberty.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1102 7&lblank; as luscious as locusts, &lblank;] Whether you understand by this the insect or the fruit, it cannot be given as an instance of a delicious morsel, notwithstanding the exaggerations of lying travellers. The true reading is lohocks, a very pleasant confection introduced into medicine by the Arabian physicians; and so very fitly opposed both to the bitterness and use of coloquintida. Warburton. &lblank; bitter as coloquintida.] The old quarto reads—as acerb as coloquintida. Dr. Warburton, through his rage to introduce an uncommon word, is mistaken. At Tonquin the insect Locusts are considered as a great delicacy, not only by the poor but by the rich; and are sold in the markets, as larks and quails are in Europe. It may be added, that the Levitical law permits four sorts of them to be eaten. An anonymous correspondent informs me, that the fruit of the locust-tree is a long black pod, which contains the reeds, among which there is a very sweet luscious juice of much the same consistency as fresh honey. This (says he) I have often tasted. Steevens.

Note return to page 1103 8&lblank; betwixt an erring Barbarian &lblank;] We should read errant; that is, a vagabond, one who has no house nor country. Warburton. Hanmer reads, arrant. Erring is as well as either. Johnson. So, in Hamlet: “Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies “To his confine.” Steevens. An erring Barbarian; perhaps meaning a rover from Barbary. He had before said, “You'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse.” Malone.

Note return to page 1104 9&lblank; if I depend on the issue?] These words are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1105 1conjunctive. The first quarto reads, communicative. Steevens.

Note return to page 1106 2What say you?] This speech is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 1107 3I am chang'd.] This is omitted in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 1108 4Go to; farewel: put money enough in your purse.] The folio omits this line. Steevens.

Note return to page 1109 5&lblank; to plume up, &c.] The first quarto reads—to make up, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1110 6The Moor is of a free and open nature,] The first quarto reads The Moor, a free and open nature too, That thinks, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1111 7&lblank; when mountains melt on them,] Thus the folio. The quarto reads: &lblank; when the huge mountain melts. This latter reading might be countenanced by the following passage in the Second Part of King Henry IV: &lblank; the continent Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1112 8&lblank; the foaming shore,] The elder quarto reads—banning shore, which offers the bolder image; i. e. the shore that execrates the ravage of the waves. So, in King Henry VI. P. 1: “Fell, banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1113 9And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:] Alluding to the star Arctophylax. Johnson. The elder quarto reads—ever-fired pole. Steevens.

Note return to page 1114 1The ship is here put in, A Veronese; Michael Cassio, &c.] The author of The Revisal is of opinion, that the poet intended to inform us, that Othello's lieutenant Cassio was of Verona, an inland city of the Venetian state; and adds, that the editors have not been pleased to say what kind of ship is here denoted by a Veronessa. By a Veronessa or Veronesè (for the Italian pronunciation must be retained, otherwise the measure will be defective) a ship of Verona is denoted; as we say to this day of ships in the river, such a one is a Dutchman, a Jamaica-man, &c. Steevens. Veronessa, a ship of Verona. But the true reading is Veronese, pronounced as a quadrisyllable. &lblank; The ship is here put in, A Veronesè. &lblank; It was common to introduce Italian words, and in their proper pronunciation then familiar. So Spenser in the Faerie Queene, B. iii. C. xiii. 10. With sleeves dependant Albenesè wise. The author of the Revisal observes, that “the editors have not been pleased to inform us what kind of ship is here denoted by the name of A Veronessa.” But even supposing that Veronessa is the true reading, there is no sort of difficulty. He might just as well have inquired, what kind of a ship is a Hamburger. This is exactly a parallel form. For it is not the species of the ship which is implied in this appellation. Our critic adds, “the poet had not a ship in his thoughts.—He intended to inform us, that Othello's lieutenant, Cassio, was of Verona. We should certainly read, &lblank; “The ship is here put in. “A Veronese, Michael Cassio, (&c.) “Is come on shore.”— This regulation of the lines is ingenious. But I agree with Hanmer, and I think it appears from many parts of the play, that Cassio was a Florentine. In this speech, the third gentleman, who brings the news of the wreck of the Turkish fleet, returns his tale, and relates the circumstances more distinctly. In his former speech he says, “A noble ship of Venice saw the distress of the Turks.” And here he adds, “The very ship is just now put into our port, and she is a Veronese.” That is, a ship fitted out or furnished by the people of Verona, a city of the Venetian state. Warton. I believe we are all wrong. Verona is an inland city. Every inconsistency may, however, be avoided, if we read The Veronessa, i. e. the name of the ship is the Veronessa. Verona, however, might be obliged to furnish ships towards the general defence of Italy. Steevens.

Note return to page 1115 2Even 'till we make the main, &c.] This line and half is wanting in the eldest quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1116 3&lblank; warlike isle,] Thus the folio. The first quarto reads— worthy isle. Steevens.

Note return to page 1117 4His bark is stoutly timber'd, &lblank; Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure.] I do not understand these lines. I know not how hope can be surfeited to death, that is, can be encreased, till it is destroyed; nor what it is to stand in bold cure; or why hope should be considered as a disease. In the copies there is no variation. Shall we read Therefore my fears, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure? This is better, but it is not well. Shall we strike a bolder stroke, and read thus? Therefore my hopes, not forfeited to death, Stand bold, not sure. Johnson. Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure] Presumptuous hopes, which have no foundation in probability, may be said to surfeit themselves to death, or forward their own dissolution. To stand in bold cure, is to erect themselves in confidence of being fulfilled. A parallel expression occurs in K. Lear, Act 3. Sc. 6. “This rest might yet have balm'd his broken senses, “Which, if conveniency will not allow, “Stand in hard cure.” Again, &lblank; his life, with thine, &c. Stand in assured loss. In bold cure means, in confidence of being cured. Steevens. A surfeit being a sickness arising from an excessive over-charge of the stomach, the author, with his usual licence, uses it for any species of excess.—The meaning, I think, is—Therefore my hopes, not being destroyed by their own excess, but being reasonable and moderate, are likely to be fulfilled. The word surfeit having occurred to Shakespeare, led him to consider hope as a disease, and to talk of its cure. A passage in Twelfth Night, where a similar phraseology is used, may serve to strengthen this interpretation, while at the same time it shews that there is here no corruption in the text:   Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. Malone.

Note return to page 1118 5Of very expert and approv'd allowance;] I read, Very expert, and of approv'd allowance. Johnson. Expert and approv'd allowance is put for allow'd and approv'd expertness. This mode of expression is not unfrequent in Shakespeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 1119 6And, in the essential vesture of creation, Does bear all excellency—] It is plain that something very hyperbolical was here intended. But what is there as it stands? Why this, that in the essence of creation she bore all excellency. The expression is intolerable, and could never come from one who so well understood the force of words as our poet. The essential vesture is the same as essential form. So that the expression is nonsense. For the vesture of creation signifies the forms in which created beings are cast. And essence relates not to the form, but to the matter. Shakespeare certainly wrote: And in terrestrial vesture of creation. And in this lay the wonder, that all created excellence should be contained within an earthly mortal form. Warburton. I do not think the present reading inexplicable. The author seems to use essential, for existent, real. She excels the praises of invention, says he, and in real qualities, with which creation has invested her, bears all excellency. Johnson. Does bear all excellency—] Such is the reading of the quartos; for which the folio has this: And in the essential vesture of creation Do's tyre the ingeniuer. Which I explain thus, Does tire the ingenious verse. This is the best reading, and that which the author substituted in his revisal. Johnson. The reading of the quarto is so flat and unpoetical, when compared with that sense which seems meant to have been given in the folio, that I heartily wish some emendation could be hit on, which might entitle it to a place in the text. I believe the word tire was not introduced to signify—to fatigue, but to attire, to dress. The verb to attire, is often so abbreviated. So, in Holland's Leaguer, 1633: “&lblank; Cupid's a boy, “And would you tire him like a senator?” Again, in the Comedy of Errors, Act 2. Sc. 2. “&lblank; To save the money he spends in tiring, &c.” The essential vesture of creation tempts me to believe it was so used on the present occasion. I would read something like this: And in the essential vesture of creation Does tire the ingenuous virtue. i. e. invests her artless virtue in the fairest form of earthly substance. In the Merchant of Venice, Act 5. Lorenzo calls the body— “the muddy vesture of decay.” It may, however, be observed, that the word ingener did not anciently signify one who manages the engines or artillery of an army, but any ingenious person, any master of liberal science. So in B. Jonson's Sejanus, Act 1. Sc. 1: “No, Silius, we are no good ingeners, “We want the fine arts,” &c. Ingener therefore may be the true reading of this passage: and a similar thought occurs in the Tempest, Act 4. Sc. 1: For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, And make it halt behind her. In the argument of Sejanus, Jonson likewise says, that his hero “worketh with all his ingene,” apparently from the Latin ingenium. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1234

Note return to page 1120 7Traitors ensteep'd &lblank;] Thus the folio and one of the quartos. The first copy reads—enscerped, of which every reader may make what he pleases. Perhaps enscerped was an old English word borrowed from the French escarpé, which Shakespeare not finding congruous to the image of clogging the keel, afterwards changed. I once thought that the poet had written—traitors enscarf'd, i. e. muffled in their robes, as in Julius Cæsar. So, in Hamlet: “My sea-gown scarf'd about me;” and this agrees better with the idea of a traitor: yet whatever is gained one way is lost another. The poet too often adopts circumstances from every image that arose in his mind, and employing them without attention to the propriety of their union, his metaphorical expressions become inextricably confused. Steevens.

Note return to page 1121 8Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,] Thus the folio. The quarto, with less animation: And swiftly come to Desdemona's arms. Steevens.

Note return to page 1122 9And bring all Cyprus comfort!] This passage is only found in the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 1123 1See for the news.] The first quarto reads, So speaks this voice. Steevens.

Note return to page 1124 2In faith, too much;] Thus the folio. The first quarto thus: I know too much; I find it, I; for when, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1125 3Saints in your injuries, &c.] When you have a mind to do injuries, you put on an air of sanctity. Johnson. In Puttenham's Art of Poetry, 1589, I meet with almost the same thoughts:—“We limit the comely parts of a woman to consist in four points; that is, to be a shrew in the kitchen, a saint in the church, an angel at board, and an ape in the bed; as the chronicle reports by mistress Shore, paramour to K. Edward the Fourth.” Again, in a play of Middleton's, called Blurt Master Constable; or, The Spaniard's Night-walk, 1602: “&lblank; according to that wise saying of you, you be saints in the church, angels in the street, devils in the kitchen, and apes in your bed.” Again, in the Miseries of inforc'd Marriage, 1607: “Women are in churches saints, abroad angels, at home devils.” Puttenham, who mentions all other contemporary writers, has not once spoken of Shakespeare; so that it is probable he had not produced any thing of so early a date. Steevens.

Note return to page 1126 4O, fie upon thee, slanderer!] This short speech is, in the quarto, unappropriated; and may as well belong to Æmilia as to Desdemona. Steevens.

Note return to page 1127 5&lblank; critical.] That is, censorious. Johnson.

Note return to page 1128 6&lblank; her blackness fit.] The first quarto reads hit. Steevens.

Note return to page 1129 7She never yet was foolish, &c.] We may read, She ne'er was yet so foolish that was fair, But even her folly help'd her to an heir. Yet I believe the common reading to be right: the law makes the power of cohabitation a proof that a man is not a natural; therefore, since the foolishest woman, if pretty, may have a child, no pretty woman is ever foolish. Johnson.

Note return to page 1130 8&lblank; one, that in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?] Though all the printed copies agree in this reading, I cannot help suspecting it. If the text should be genuine, I confess it is above my understanding. In what sense can merit be said to put on the vouch of malice? I should rather think, merit was so safe in itself, as to repel and put off all that malice and envy could advance and affirm to its prejudice. I have ventured to reform the text to this construction, by writing put down, a very slight change that makes it intelligible. Theobald. &lblank; one, that in the authority of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?] The editor, Mr. Theobald, not understanding the phrase, To put on the vouch of malice, has altered it to put down, and wrote a deal of unintelligible stuff to justify his blunder. To put on the vouch of any one, signifies, to call upon any one to vouch for another. So that the sense of the place is this, one that was so conscious of her own merit, and of the authority her character had with every one, that she durst venture to call upon malice itself to vouch for her. This was some commendation. And the character only of clearest virtue; which could force malice, even against its nature, to do justice. Warburton. To put on the vouch of malice, is to assume a character vouched by the testimony of malice itself. Johnson. &lblank; put on the vouch.] To put on is to provoke, to incite. So, in Macbeth: &lblank; the powers above Put on their instruments. Steevens.

Note return to page 1131 9To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;] i. e. to exchange a delicacy for coarser fare. Steevens.

Note return to page 1132 1See suitors following, and not look behind;] The first quarto omits this line. Steevens.

Note return to page 1133 2To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.] After enumerating the perfections of a woman, Iago adds, that if ever there was such a one as he had been describing, she was, at the best, of no other use, than to suckle children, and keep the accounts of a household. The expressions to suckle fools, and chronicle small beer, are only instances of the want of natural affection, and the predominance of a critical censoriousness in Iago, which he allows himself to be possessed of, where he says. O! I am nothing, if not critical. Steevens.

Note return to page 1134 3&lblank; profane &lblank;] Gross of language, of expression broad and brutal. So Brabantio, in the first act, calls Iago profane wretch. Johnson.

Note return to page 1135 4&lblank; liberal counsellor?] Liberal, for licentious. Warburton. So, in the Fair Maid of Bristow, 1605, bl. 1. “But Vallenger, most like a liberal villain, “Did give her scandalous, ignoble terms.” So, in Hamlet: “That liberal shepherds give a grosser name.” Mr. Malone adds another instance from Woman's a Weather-cock, by N. Field, 1612: “&lblank; Next that, the fame “Of your neglect and liberal talking tongue, “Which breeds my honour an eternal wrong.” Steevens. How say you, Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor?] But in what respect was Iago a counsellor? He caps sentences, indeed: but they are not by way of advice, but description: what he says, is, reflections on character and conduct in life. For this reason, I am very apt to think, our author wrote censurer. Theobald. Counsellor seems to mean, not so much a man that gives counsel, as one that discourses fearlessly and volubly. A talker. Johnson.

Note return to page 1136 5&lblank; I will gyve thee &lblank;] i. e. catch, shackle. Pope. The first quarto reads—“I will catch you in your own courtesies;” the second quarto—“I will catch you in your own courtship.” The folio as it is in the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 1137 6&lblank; well kiss'd and excellent courtesy; &lblank;] This I think should be printed, well kiss'd! an excellent courtesy! Spoken when Cassio kisses his hand, and Desdemona courtesies. Johnson. The old quarto confirms Dr. Johnson's emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 1138 7And this, and this, &c. Kissing her.] So, in Marlow's Lust's Dominion: “I prythee chide if I have done amiss, “But let my punishment be this and this.” “Kissing the Moor.” Malone. Marlow's Play was written before that of Shakespeare, who might possibly have acted in it. Steevens.

Note return to page 1139 8News, friends; &lblank;] The modern editors read (after Mr. Rowe) Now, friends. I would observe once for all, that (in numberless instances in this play, as well as in others) where my predecessors had silently and without reason made alterations, I have as silently restored the old readings. Steevens.

Note return to page 1140 9I prattle out of fashion, &lblank;] Out of method, without any settled order of discourse. Johnson.

Note return to page 1141 1&lblank; the master &lblank;] The pilot of the ship. Johnson.

Note return to page 1142 2&lblank; the court of guard—] i. e. the place where the guard musters. So, in The Family of Love, 1608: “Thus have I pass'd the round and court of guard.” Again, in the Beggar's Bush, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “Visit your courts of guard, view your munition.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1143 3Lay thy finger thus, &lblank;] On thy mouth, to stop it while thou art listening to a wiser man. Johnson.

Note return to page 1144 4And will she love him still for prating?] The folio reads— To love him still for prating! Steevens.

Note return to page 1145 5When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be a game to inflame it, and to give satiety a fresh appetite; loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners, and beauties; &lblank;] This, it is true, is the reading of the generality of the copies: but, methinks, it is a very peculiar experiment, when the blood and spirits are dulled and exhausted with sport, to raise and recruit them by sport: for sport and game are but two words for the same thing. I have retrieved the pointing and reading of the elder quarto, which certainly gives us the poet's sense; that when the blood is dulled with the exercise of pleasure, there should be proper incentives on each side to raise it again, as the charms of beauty, equality of years, and agreement of manners and disposition; which are wanting in Othello to rekindle Desdemona's passion. Theobald.

Note return to page 1146 6&lblank; again to inflame it,] Thus the quarto 1622. It is the folio reads—a game. Steevens.

Note return to page 1147 7&lblank; green minds &lblank;] Minds unripe, minds not yet fully formed. Johnson.

Note return to page 1148 8&lblank; condition.] Qualities, disposition of mind. Johnson.

Note return to page 1149 9&lblank; an index and obscure prologue, &c.] That indexes were formerly prefixed to books, appears from a passage in Troilus and Cressida: “And in such indexes though but small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come at large.” Malone.

Note return to page 1150 1&lblank; tainting &lblank;] Throwing a slur upon his discipline. Johnson.

Note return to page 1151 2&lblank; other course &lblank;] The first quarto reads, cause. Steevens.

Note return to page 1152 3&lblank; sudden in choler; &lblank;] Sudden, is precipitately violent. Johnson.

Note return to page 1153 4&lblank; whose qualification shall come, &c.] Whose resentment shall not be so qualified or tempered, as to be well tasted, as not to retain some bitterness. The phrase is harsh, at least to our ears. Johnson. Perhaps qualification means fitness to preserve good order, or the regularity of military discipline. Steevens.

Note return to page 1154 5&lblank; like a poisonous mineral, &lblank;] This is philosophical. Mineral poisons kill by corrosion. Johnson.

Note return to page 1155 6'Till I am even with him,] Thus the quarto, 1622; the first folio reads: Till I am even'd with him. i. e. Till I am on a level with him by retaliation. So, in Heywood's Iron Age, 1632, Second Part: “The stately walls he rear'd, levell'd, and even'd.” Again, in Tancred and Gismund, 1592: “For now the walls are even'd with the plain.” Again, in Stanyhurst's translation of the first book of Virgil's Æneid, 1582: &lblank; numerum cum navibus æquat.— “&lblank; with the ships the number is even'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 1156 7&lblank; Which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,] A trifling, insignificant fellow may, in some respects, very well be called trash; but the metaphor is not preserved. For what agreement is there betwixt trash, and quick hunting; and standing the putting on? The allusion to the chace, Shakespeare seems to be fond of applying to Roderigo, who says of himself towards the conclusion of this Act: I follow here in the chace, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. I suppose therefore that the poet wrote, If this poor brach of Venice, &lblank; which is a low species of hounds of the chace, and a term generally used in contempt: and this completes and perfects the metaphorical allusion, and makes it much more satirical. Vlitius, in his notes on Gratius, says, Racha Saxonibus canem significabat, unde Scoti hodie Rache pro cane femina habent, quod Anglis est Brache. Nos verò (he speaks of the Hollanders) Brach non quemvis canem sed sagacem vocamus. So the French, Braque, espece de chien de chasse. Menage Etimol. Warburton.

Note return to page 1157 8&lblank; whom I do trace For his quick hunting, &lblank;] Just the contrary. He did not trace him, he put him on, as he says immediately after. The old quarto leads to the true reading: &lblank; whom I do crush For his quick hunting, &lblank; Plainly corrupted from cherish, Warburton. &lblank; whom I do trace] It is a term of hunting or fieldsport; to trace sometimes signifies to follow, as Henry VIII. Act 3. Scene 2: Now all joy trace the conjunction; and a dog or a man traces a hare: but to trace a dog, in those sports, is to put a trace, or pair of couples, upon him; and such a dog is said to be traced. The sense, then, of &lblank; whom I do trace For his quick hunting, &lblank; is this, whom I do associate to me for the purpose of ruining Cassio the sooner. T. Row. If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,] Dr. Warburton, with his usual happy sagacity, turned the old reading trash into brach. But it seems to me, that trash belongs to another part of the line, and that we should read trash for trace. The old quartos (in the same part of the line) read trush, signifying indeed the same as trash, but plainly corrupted from it. To trash a hound is a term of hunting still used in the north, and perhaps not uncommon in other parts of England. It is, to correct, to rate. Crush was never the technical expression on this occasion; and only found a place here as a more familiar word with the printers. The sense is, “If this hound Roderigo, whom I rate for quick hunting, for over-running the scent, will but stand the putting on, will but have patience to be fairly and properly put upon the scent, &c.” This very hunting term to trash is metaphorically applied by our author in the Tempest, V. I. Sc. 2. p. 13. Prosp. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, whom t'advance, and whom To* [Footnote: 1Kb]

Note return to page 1158 *Sir T. H. reads plash, which see.

Note return to page 1159 9I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip;] A phrase from the art of wrestling. Johnson.

Note return to page 1160 1&lblank; in the right garb,] The quarto reads in the rank garb, which I think is right. Rank garb, I believe, means, grossly, i. e. without mincing the matter. So, in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1604: “Whither, in the rank name of madness, whither?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1161 2Knavery's plain face is never seen, &lblank;] An honest man acts upon a plan, and forecasts his designs; but a knave depends upon temporary and local opportunities, and never knows his own purpose, but at the time of execution. Johnson.

Note return to page 1162 3&lblank; mere perdition &lblank;] Mere in this place signifies entire. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; possess it merely.” Steevens. So, in A Warning for Faire Women, a tragedy, 1599: “Why then you are persuaded certainly, “That mistress Saunders is mere innocent.” Malone.

Note return to page 1163 4&lblank; his addiction] The first quarto reads, his mind. Steevens.

Note return to page 1164 5Our general cast us &lblank;] That is, appointed us to our stations. To cast the play, is, in the stile of the theatres, to assign to every actor his proper part. Johnson. Perhaps cast us only means dismissed us, or got rid of our company. So, in one of the following scenes, “You are but now cast in his mood;” i. e. turn'd out of your office in his anger; and in the first scene it means to dismiss. So, in the Witch, a MS. Tragi-comedy, by Middleton: “&lblank; She cast off “My company betimes to night, by tricks, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1165 6&lblank; an alarum &lblank;] The voice may sound an alarm more properly than the eye can sound a parley. Johnson.

Note return to page 1166 7&lblank; is it not an alarum to love?] The quartos read,—'tis an alarm to love. Steevens.

Note return to page 1167 8&lblank; craftily qualified &lblank;] Slily mixed with water. Johnson.

Note return to page 1168 9Three lads of Cyprus,] The folio reads—Three else of Cyprus. Steevens.

Note return to page 1169 1The very elements &lblank;] As quarrelsome as the discordia semina rerum; as quick in opposition as fire and water. Johnson.

Note return to page 1170 2If consequence do but approve my dream,] All the printed copies concur in this reading, but, I think, it does not come up to the poet's intention; I rather imagine that he wrote, If consequence do but approve my deem, i. e. my opinion, the judgment I have formed of what must happen. So, in Troilus and Cressida: Cres. I true? how now? what wicked deem is this? Theobald. This reading is followed by the succeeding editions. I rather read, If consequence do but approve my scheme. But why should dream be rejected? Every scheme subsisting only in the imagination may be termed a dream. Johnson.

Note return to page 1171 3&lblank; given me a rouse, &c.] A rouse appears to be a quantity of liquor rather too large. So in Hamlet; and in The Christian turn'd Turk, 1612: “&lblank; our friends may tell “We drank a rouse to them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1172 4A life's but a span;] Thus the quarto. The folio reads: “Oh, man's life's but a span.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1173 5&lblank; so exquisite &lblank;] The quarto reads so expert. This accomplishment in the English is likewise mentioned by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Captain: Lod. “Are the Englishmen “Such stubborn drinkers? Piso. “&lblank; not a leak at sea “Can suck more liquor; you shall have their children “Christen'd in mull'd sack, and at five years old “Able to knock a Dane down.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1174 6King Stephen, &c.] These stanzas are taken from an old song, which the reader will find recovered and preserved in a curious work lately printed, intitled, Relicks of Ancient Poetry, consisting of old heroic ballads, songs, &c. 3 vols. 12o. Johnson. So, in Greene's Quip for an Upstart Courtier: “King Stephen wore a pair of cloth breeches of a noble a pair, and thought them passing costly.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1175 7&lblank; a worthy peer,] i. e. a worthy fellow. In this sense peer, fere, and pheere, are often used by the writers of our earliest romances. Steevens.

Note return to page 1176 8&lblank; lown.] Sorry fellow, paltry wretch. Johnson.

Note return to page 1177 9He'll watch the horologe a double set,] If he have no drink, he'll keep awake while the clock strikes two rounds, or four-and-twenty hours. Chaucer uses the word horologe in more places than one. “Well sikerer was his crowing in his loge “Than is a clock or abbey horologe.” Johnson. So Heywood in his Epigrams on Proverbs, 1562: “The divell is in thorologe, the houres to trye, “Searche houres by the sunne, the devyl's dyall wyll lye. “The devyl is in thorologe, nowe cheere in bowles, “Let the devyl kepe our clockes, while God keepe our soules.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “&lblank; my gracious lord, “By Sisto's horologe 'tis struck eleven.” Again, in the Miracles of Moses, by Drayton: “The cock the country horologe that rings “The chearful warning to the sun's awake.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1178 1&lblank; ingraft infirmity:] An infirmity rooted, settled in his constitution. Johnson.9Q1239

Note return to page 1179 2&lblank; into a twiggen bottle.] A twiggen bottle is a wicker'd bottle; and so the quarto reads. Steevens.

Note return to page 1180 3&lblank; Diablo &lblank;] I meet with this exclamation in Marlow's King Edward II. 1622: “Diablo? what passions call you these?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1181 4&lblank; I am hurt to death—he dies.] Montano thinks he is mortally wounded, yet by these words he seems determined to continue the duel, and to kill his antagonist Cassio. So when Roderigo runs at Cassio, in the 5th Act, he says,—“Villain, thou dy'st.” Tollet. He dies, i. e. he shall die. He may be supposed to say this as he renews the fight. Steevens.

Note return to page 1182 5&lblank; all sense of place and duty?] So Hanmer. The rest, &lblank; all place of sense and duty? Johnson.

Note return to page 1183 6&lblank; it frights the isle From her propriety.—] From her regular and proper state. Johnson.

Note return to page 1184 7In quarter, &lblank;] In their quarters; at their lodging. Johnson.

Note return to page 1185 8&lblank; you are thus forgot?] i. e. you have thus forgot yourself. Steevens.

Note return to page 1186 9That you unlace &lblank;] Slacken, or loosen. Put in danger of dropping; or perhaps strip of its ornaments. Johnson.

Note return to page 1187 1&lblank; spend your rich opinion, &lblank;] Throw away and squander a reputation so valuable as yours. Johnson.

Note return to page 1188 2&lblank; self-charity &lblank;] Care of one's self. Johnson.

Note return to page 1189 3And passion, having my best judgment collied,] Thus the folio reads, and I believe rightly. Othello means, that passion has discoloured his judgment. The word is used in The Midsummer Night's Dream: “&lblank; like lightning in the collied night.” To colly anciently signified to besmut, to blacken as with coal. So, in a comedy called The Family of Love, 1608.—“carry thy link a 't'other side the way, thou collow'st me and my ruffe.” The word (as I am assured) is still used in the midland counties. Mr. Tollet informs me that Wallis's Hist. of Northumberland, p. 46. says, “&lblank; in our northern counties it [i. e. a fine black clay or ochre] is commonly known by the name of Collow or Killow, by which name it is known by Dr. Woodward, &c.” The Doctor says it had its name from Kollow, by which name, in the North, the smut or grime on the backs of chimneys is called. Colly, however, is from coal, as collier. Hanmer reads—choler'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 1190 4&lblank; he that is approv'd in this offence,] He that is convicted by proof, of having been engaged in this offence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1191 5If partially affin'd, &lblank;] Affin'd is bound by proximity of relationship; but here it means related by nearness of office. In the first scene it is used in the former of these senses: “If I, in any just term, am affin'd “To love the Moor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1192 5&lblank; there is more offence, &c,] Thus the quartos. The folio reads,—there is more sense, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1193 6&lblank; cast in his mood, &lblank;] Ejected in his anger. Johnson.

Note return to page 1194 7&lblank; and speak parrot? &lblank;] A phrase signifying to act foolishly and childishly. So Skeleton, “These maidens full mekely with many a divers flour, “Freshly they dress and make sweete my houre, “With spake parrot I pray you full courteously thei saye.” Warburton. So, in Lylly's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Thou pretty parrot speak awhile.” These lines are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1195 8&lblank; for that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and devotement, of her parts and graces.—] I remember, it is said of Antony, in the beginning of his tragedy, that he, who used to fix his eyes altogether on the dreadful ranges of war: “&lblank; now bends, now turns, “The office and devotion of their view “Upon a strumpet's front.” This is finely expressed; but I cannot persuade myself that our poet would ever have said, any one devoted himself to the devotement of any thing. All the copies agree; but the mistake certainly arose from a single letter being turned upside down at press. Theobald.

Note return to page 1196 9&lblank; this advice is free &lblank;] This counsel has an appearance of honest openness, of frank good-will. Johnson.9Q1241

Note return to page 1197 1Probable] The old editions concur in reading probal. There may be such a contraction of the word, but I have not met with it in any other book. Yet, abbreviations as violent occur in our ancient writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 1198 2&lblank; free elements:] Liberal, bountiful, as the elements, out of which all things are produced. Johnson.

Note return to page 1199 3&lblank; to this parallel course,] Parallel, for even; because parallel lines run even and equidistant. Warburton. Parallel course; i. e. a course level, and even with his design. Johnson.

Note return to page 1200 4I'll pour this pestilence &lblank;] Pestilence, for poison. Warburton.

Note return to page 1201 5That she repeals him &lblank;] That is, recalls him. Johnson.

Note return to page 1202 6That shall enmesh them all.—] A metaphor from taking birds in meshes. Pope.

Note return to page 1203 7&lblank; a little more wit,] Thus the folio. The first quarto reads —and with that wit. Steevens.

Note return to page 1204 8Though other things grow fair against the sun, Yet fruits, that blossom first, will first be ripe.] Of many different things, all planned with the same art, and promoted with the same diligence, some must succeed sooner than others, by the order of nature. Every thing cannot be done at once; we must proceed by the necessary gradation. We are not to despair of slow events any more than of tardy fruits, while the causes are in regular progress, and the fruits grow fair against the sun. Hanmer has not, I think, rightly conceived the sentiment; for he reads, Those fruits which blossom first, are not first ripe. I have therefore drawn it out at length, for there are few to whom that will be easy which was difficult to Hanmer. Johnson.

Note return to page 1205 9&lblank; will draw] The old copies read—to draw, which may be right, and consistent with the tenor of this interrupted speech. Iago is still debating with himself concerning the means to perplex Othello. Steevens.

Note return to page 1206 1Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples, that they speak i' the nose thus?] The venereal disease first appeared at the siege of Naples. Johnson.

Note return to page 1207 2&lblank; of all loves, &lblank;] The folio reads—for love's sake. Steevens.

Note return to page 1208 3&lblank; for I'll away &lblank;] Hanmer reads, and hie away. Johnson.

Note return to page 1209 4&lblank; vanish into air.] So the folio and one of the quartos. The eldest quarto reads—Vanish away. Steevens.

Note return to page 1210 5To take the safest occasion by the front,] This line is wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 1211 6I am much bound to you.] This speech is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1212 7As if the case were his.] The folio reads—As if the cause were his. Steevens.

Note return to page 1213 8That policy may either last so long,] He may either of himself think it politic to keep me out of office so long, or he may be satisfied with such slight reasons, or so many accidents may make him think my re-admission at that time improper, that I may be quite forgotten. Johnson.

Note return to page 1214 9I'll watch him tame,&lblank;] It is said, that the ferocity of beasts, insuperable and irreclaimable by any other means, is subdued by keeping them from sleep. Johnson. Hawks and other birds are tamed by keeping them from sleep, and it is to the management of those Shakespeare alludes. So, in Cartwright's Lady Errant: “&lblank; we'll keep you, “As they do hawks, watching untill you leave “Your wildness.” So, in Monsieur D'Olive, 1616: “&lblank; your only way to deal with women and parrots, is to keep them waking.” Again, in Sir W. D' Avenant's Just Italian, 1630: “They've watch'd my hardy violence so tame.” Again, in the Booke of Haukyng, Huntyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “Wake her all nyght, and on the morrowe all daye, and then she will be previ enough to be reclaymed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1215 1His present reconciliation take:] Cassio was to be reconciled to his general, not his general to him, therefore take cannot be right. We should read make. Warburton. To take his reconciliation, may be to accept the submission which he makes in order to be reconciled. Johnson.

Note return to page 1216 2&lblank; and not in cunning,] Cunning, for design, or purpose, simply. Warburton.

Note return to page 1217 3&lblank; the wars must make examples Out of their best, &lblank;] The severity of military discipline must not spare the best men of the army, when their punishment may afford a wholesome example. Johnson.

Note return to page 1218 4&lblank; so mammering on?] To hesitate, to stand in suspence. The word often occurs in old English writings, and probably takes its original from the French M'Amour, which men were apt often to repeat when they were not prepared to give a direct answer. Hanmer. I find the same word in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “I stand in doubt, or in a mamorynge between hope and fear.” Again, in Thomas Drant's translation of the third Satire of the second Book of Horace, 1567: “Ye, when she daygnes to send for him, then mammeryng he dothe doute.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1219 5&lblank; What! Michael Cassio, That came a wooing with you; &lblank;] And yet in the first act Cassio appears perfectly ignorant of the amour, and is indebted to Iago for the information of Othello's marriage, and of the person to whom he is married. Steevens.

Note return to page 1220 6&lblank; full of poize &lblank;] i. e. of weight. So, in The Dumb Knight, 1633: “They are of poize sufficient &lblank;” Again, “But we are all prest down with other poize.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1221 7Excellent wretch!—Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee! &c.] The meaning of the word wretch, is not generally understood. It is now, in some parts of England, a term of the softest and fondest tenderness. It expresses the utmost degree of amiableness, joined with an idea, which perhaps all tenderness includes, of feebleness, softness, and want of protection. Othello, considering Desdemona as excelling in beauty and virtue, soft and timorous by her sex, and by her situation absolutely in his power, calls her, Excellent wretch! It may be expressed: Dear, harmless, helpless Excellence. Johnson. Sir W. D'Avenant uses the same expression in his Cruel Brother, 1630, and with the same meaning. It occurs twice: “—Excellent wretch! with a timorous modesty she stifleth up her utterance.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1222 8&lblank; when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.] When my love is for a moment suspended by suspicion, I have nothing in my mind but discord, tumult, perturbation, and confusion. Johnson. &lblank; when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.] There is another meaning possible. When I cease to love thee, the world is at an end; i. e. there remains nothing valuable or important. The first explanation may be more elegant, the second is perhaps more easy. Shakespeare has the same thought in his Venus and Adonis: “For he being dead, with him is beauty slain, “And, beauty dead, black Chaos comes again.” Steevens. The passage does not strike me in the same light in which it appeared to Dr. Johnson; as Othello had not at this time the smallest doubt of his wife's fidelity. Muretus, a poet of the 16th century, has exactly the same thought: “Tune meo elabi possis de pectore, Lacci,   “Aut ego, dum vivam, non meminisse tui? “Ante vel istius mundi compage soluta   “Terra in antiquum sit reditura Chaos;” [Subnote: Terra in antiquum sit reditura chaos.] This line of Muretus is here quoted from an incorrect edition The false quantity in it, however, was sufficiently obvious; but as such mistakes in prosody are sometimes to be met with among modern writers of Latin verse, (especially the Poetæ Italorum,) I passed over the present imperfection, without pointing it out to the public. Yet perhaps we should read, with an older copy of this author, printed at Paris in his lifetime: Tetras in antiquum &c, i. e. quaternio elemetorum, the four elements out of which the universe was made. Malone.] The meaning of Shakespeare appears very clearly from the following passage in the Winter's Tale, where the same thought is more fully expressed: “&lblank; It cannot fail “But by the violation of my faith—and then “Let nature crush the sides of the earth together, “And mar the seeds within.” Malone.

Note return to page 1223 9&lblank; By heaven he echoes me, As if there were some monster in his thought, &c.] Thus the eldest quarto. The second quarto reads: &lblank; Why dost thou echo me, As if there were some monster in thy thought, &c. Tho folio reads: &lblank; Alas thou echo'st me, As if, &c. &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1224 1They are cold dilations working from the heart, That passion cannot rule.] i. e. these stops and breaks are cold dilations, or cold keeping back a secret, which men of phlegmatic constitutions, whose hearts are not swayed or governed by their passions, we find, can do: while more sanguine tempers reveal themselves at once, and without reserve. But the Oxford Editor for cold dilations, reads distillations. Warburton. I know not why the modern editors are satisfied with this reading, which no explanation can clear. They might easily have found, that it is introduced without authority. The old copies uniformly give, close dilations, except that the earlier quarto has close denotements; which was the author's first expression, afterwards changed by him, not to cold dilations, for cold is read in no ancient copy; nor, I believe, to close dilations, but to close delations; to occult and secret accusations, working involuntarily from the heart, which, though resolved to conceal the fault, cannot rule its passion of resentment. Johnson.

Note return to page 1225 2Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none!] There is no sense in this reading. I suppose Shakespeare wrote, &lblank; 'would they might seem knaves. Warburton. I believe the meaning is, would they might no longer seem, or bear the shape of men. Johnson.

Note return to page 1226 3Keep leets and law-days, &lblank;] e. govern. A metaphor, wretchedly forced and quaint. Warburton. Rather visit than govern, but visit with authoritative intrusion. Johnson. Neither of the learned commentators seem to have explained these words properly. Leets, and law-days, are synonymous terms. “Leet (says Jacob, in his Law-Dictionary) is otherwise called a law-day.” They are there explained to be courts, or meetings of the hundred, “to certify the king of the good manners, and government, of the inhabitants,” and to enquire of all offences that are not capital. The poet's meaning will now be plain.—Who has a breast so little apt to form ill opinions of others, but that foul suspicions will sometimes mix with his fairest and most candid thoughts, and erect a court in his mind, to enquire of the offences apprehended. Steevens.

Note return to page 1227 4Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,] Not to mention that, in this reading, the sentence is abrupt and broken, it is likewise highly absurd. I beseech you give yourself no uneasiness from my unsure observance, though I am vicious in my guess. For his being an ill guesser was a reason why Othello should not be uneasy: in propriety, therefore, it should either have been, though I am not vicious, or because I am vicious. It appears then we should read:   I do beseech you, Think I, perchance, am vicious in my guess, Which makes the sense pertinent and perfect. Warburton. Though I—perchance, am vicious in my guess,] That abruptness in the speech which Dr. Warburton complains of, and would alter, may be easily accounted for. Iago seems desirous by this ambiguous hint, Though I—to inflame the jealousy of Othello, which he knew would be more effectually done in this manner, than by any expression that bore a determinate meaning. The jealous Othello would fill up the pause in the speech, which Iago turns off at last to another purpose, and find a more certain cause of discontent, and a greater degree of torture arising from the doubtful consideration how it might have concluded, than he could have experienced had the whole of what he enquired after been reported to him with every circumstance of aggravation. We may suppose him imagining to himself, that Iago mentally continued the thought thus, Though I—know more than I choose to speak of. Vicious in my guess does not mean that he is an ill-guesser, but that he is apt to put the worst construction on every thing he attempts to account for. Steevens.

Note return to page 1228 5&lblank; that your wisdom yet,] Thus the folio. The quarto thus: &lblank; I entreat you then From one that so imperfectly conjects, You'd take no notice &lblank; To conject, i. e. to conjecture, is a verb used by other writers. So, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “Now reason I, or conject with myself.” Again, “I cannot forget thy saying, or thy conjecting words.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1229 6&lblank; imperfectly conceits,] In the old quarto it is, &lblank; improbably conceits, Which I think preferable. Johnson. There is no such reading as improbably in either quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1230 7&lblank; which doth mock The meat it feeds on &lblank;] i. e. loaths that which nourishes and sustains it. This being a miserable state, Iago bids him beware of it. The Oxford Editor reads: &lblank; which doth make The meat it feeds on. &lblank; Implying that its suspicions are unreal and groundless, which is the very contrary to what he would here make his general think, as appears from what follows: That cuckold lives in bliss, &c. In a word, the villain is for fixing him jealous: and therefore bids him beware of jealousy, not that it was an unreasonable, but a miserable state; and this plunges him into it, as we see by his reply, which is only O misery! Warburton. I have received Hanmer's emendation; because to mock, does not signify to loath; and because, when Iago bids Othello beware of jealousy, the green-eyed monster, it is natural to tell why he should beware, and for caution he gives him two reasons, that jealousy often creates its own cause, and that, when the causes are real, jealousy is misery. Johnson. In this place, and some others, to mock seems the same with to mammock. Farmer. If Shakespeare had written—a green-ey'd monster, we might have supposed him to refer to some creature existing only in his particular imagination; but the green-ey'd monster seems to have reference to an object as familiar to his readers as to himself. It is known that the tyger kind have green eyes, and always play with the victim to their hunger, before they devour it. So, in our Author's Tarquin and Lucrece: “Like foul night-waking cat he doth but dally, While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth &lblank;” Thus, a jealous husband, who discovers no certain cause why he may be divorced, continues to sport with the woman whom he suspects, and, on more certain evidence, determines to punish. There is no beast that can be literally said to make its own food, and therefore I am unwilling to receive the emendation of Hanmer, especially as I flatter myself that a glimpse of meaning may be produced from the ancient reading. In Antony and Cleopatra the contested word occurs again: &lblank; tell him He mocks the pauses that he makes. i. e. he plays wantonly with those intervals of time which he should improve to his own preservation. Should such an explanation be admissible, the advice given by Iago will amount to this:—Beware, my lord, of yielding to a passion which as yet has no proofs to justify its excess. Think how the interval between suspicion and certainty must be filled. Though you doubt her fidelity, you cannot yet refuse her your bed, or drive her from your heart; but, like the capricious savage, must continue to sport with one whom you wait for an opportunity to destroy. Such is the only sense that I am able to draw from the original text. What I have said, may be liable to some objections, but I have nothing better to propose. That jealousy is a monster which often creates the suspicions on which it feeds, may be well admitted according to Hanmer's proposition; but is it the monster? (i. e. a well-known and conspicuous animal) or whence has it green eyes? Yellow is the colour which Shakespeare appropriates to jealousy. It must be acknowledged that he afterwards characterizes it as “&lblank; a monster, “Begot upon itself, born on itself.” but yet—“What damned minutes counts he o'er, &c.” is the best illustration of my attempt to explain the passage. To produce Hanmer's meaning, a change in the text is necessary. I am counsel for the old reading. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1244

Note return to page 1231 8&lblank; strongly loves!] Thus the quarto; the folio,—soundly loves. Steevens.

Note return to page 1232 9But riches, fineless, &lblank;] Unbounded, endless, unnumbered treasures. Johnson.

Note return to page 1233 1as poor as winter,] Finely expressed: winter producing no fruits. Warburton.

Note return to page 1234 2To such exsuffolate and blown surmises,] This odd and far-fetched word was made yet more uncouth in all the editions before Hanmer's, by being printed exsuffliciate. The allusion is to a bubble. Do not think, says the Moor, that I shall change the noble designs that now employ my thoughts, to suspicions which, like bubbles blown into a wide extent, have only an empty shew without solidity; or that, in consequence of such empty fears, I will close with thy inference against the virtue of my wife. Johnson.

Note return to page 1235 3Where virtue is, these are most virtuous:] An action in itself indifferent, grows virtuous by its end and application. Johnson. I know not why the modern editors, in opposition to the first quarto and folio, read most instead of more. A passage in All's well that ends well, is perhaps the best comment on the sentiment of Othello: “I have those good hopes of her, education promises: his disposition she inherits; which makes fair gifts fairer.” Gratior e pulchro veniens et corpore virtus. Steevens.

Note return to page 1236 4Out of self-bounty be abus'd; &lblank;] Self-bounty, for inherent generosity. Warburton.

Note return to page 1237 5&lblank; our country disposition &lblank; In Venice &lblank;] Here Iago seems to be a Venetian. Johnson.

Note return to page 1238 9Is not to leave undone, but keep unknown.] The folio perhaps more clearly reads: Is not to leave't undone, but kee't unknown. Steevens.

Note return to page 1239 7And, when she seem'd &lblank;] This and the following argument of Iago ought to be deeply impressed on every reader. Deceit and falsehood, whatever conveniencies they may for a time promise or produce, are, in the sum of life, obstacles to happiness. Those, who profit by the cheat, distrust the deceiver, and the act, by which kindness was sought, puts an end to confidence. The same objection may be made with a lower degree of strength against the imprudent generosity of disproportionate marriages. When the first heat of passion is over, it is easily succeeded by suspicion, that the same violence of inclination, which caused one irregularity, may stimulate to another; and those who have shewn, that their passions are too powerful for their prudence, will, with very slight appearances against them, be censured, as not very likely to restrain them by their virtue. Johnson.

Note return to page 1240 8To seel her father's eyes up, close as oak,—] There is little relation between eyes and oak. I would read: She seel'd her father's eyes up close as owl's. As blind as an owl, is a proverb. Johnson. To seel her father's eyes up, close as oak,—] The oak is (I believe) the most close-grained wood of general use in England. Close as oak, means, close as the grain of the oak. I see no cause for alteration. To seel is an expression taken from falconry. So, in Ben Jonson's Catiline: “&lblank; would have kept “Both eyes and beak seel'd up, for six sesterces.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1241 9To grosser issues,] Issues, for conclusions. Warburton.

Note return to page 1242 1My speech would fall into such vile success,] Success, for succession, i. e. conclusion; not prosperous issue. Warburton. I rather think there is a depravation, and would read: My speech would fall into such vile excess. If success be the right word, it seems to mean consequence or event, as successo is used in Italian. Johnson. I think success may, in this instance, bear its common interpretation. What Iago means, seems to be this: “Should you do so, my lord, my words would be attended by such an infamous degree of success, as my thoughts do not even aim at.” Iago, who counterfeits the feelings of virtue, might have said fall into success, and vile success, because he would appear to Othello, to wish that the enquiry into Desdemona's guilt might prove fruitless and unsuccessful. Steevens.

Note return to page 1243 2&lblank; will most rank,] Will, is for wilfulness. It is so used by Ascham. A rank will, is self-will overgrown and exuberant. Johnson.

Note return to page 1244 3You shall by that perceive him, and his means,] You shall discover whether he thinks his best means, his most powerful interest, is by the solicitation of your lady. Johnson.

Note return to page 1245 4&lblank; strain his entertainment] Press hard his re-admission to his pay and office. Entertainment was the military term for admission of soldiers. Johnson.

Note return to page 1246 5Fear not my government.] Do not distrust my ability to contain my passion. Johnson.

Note return to page 1247 6&lblank; with a learned spirit,] Learned, for experienced. Warburton. The construction is, He knows with a learned spirit all qualities of human dealings. Johnson.

Note return to page 1248 7&lblank; If I do prove her haggard,] A haggard hawk, is a wild hawk, a hawk unreclaimed, or irreclaimable. Johnson. A haggard is a particular species of hawk. It is difficult to be reclaimed, but not irreclaimable. From a passage in Vittoria Corombona, it appears that haggard was a term of reproach sometimes applied to a wanton: “Is this your perch, you haggard? fly to the stews.” Turbervile says, that “the haggart falcons are the most excellent birds of all other falcons. Latham gives to the haggart only the second place in the valued file. In Holland's Leaguer, a comedy, by Shakerly Marmyon, 1633, is the following illustrative passage: “Before these courtiers lick their lips at her, “I'll trust a wanton haggard in the wind.” Again, “For she is ticklish as any haggard, “And quickly lost.” Again, in Two Wise Men, and all the Rest Fools, 1619: “the admirable conquest the faulconer maketh in a hawk's nature; bringing the wild haggard having all the earth and seas to scour over uncontroulably, to attend and obey, &c.” Haggard, however, had a popular sense, and was used for wild by those who thought not on the language of falconers. Steevens.

Note return to page 1249 8Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,] Jesses are short straps of leather tied about the foot of a hawk, by which she is held on the first. Hanmer. In Heywood's comedy, called A Woman killed with Kindness, 1617, a number of these terms relative to hawking occur together: “Now she hath seiz'd the fowl, and 'gins to plume her; “Rebeck her not; rather stand still and check her. “So: seize her gets, her jesses, and her bells.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1250 9I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind To prey at fortune. &lblank;] The falconers always let fly the hawk against the wind; if she flies with the wind behind her, she seldom returns. If therefore a hawk was for any reason to be dismissed, she was let down the wind, and from that time shifted for herself, and preyed at fortune. This was told me by the late Mr. Clark. Johnson. I'll whistle her off, &c.] This passage may possibly receive illustration from a similar one in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 2. sect. I. mem. 3. “As a long-winged hawke, when he is first whistled off the fist, mounts aloft, and for his pleasure fetcheth many a circuit in the ayre, still soaring higher and higher, till he come to his full pitch, and in the end, when the game is sprung, comes down amaine, and stoupes upon a sudden.” Percy. Again, in The Spanish Gipsie, 1653, by Middleton and Rowley: “&lblank; That young lannerd, “Whom you have such a mind to; if you can whistle her “To come to fist, make trial, play the young falconer.” A lannerd is a species of hawk. Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Bonduca: “&lblank; he that basely “Whistled his honour off to the wind, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1251 1Chamberers] i. e. men of intrigue. So, in the Countess of Pembroke's Antonius, 1590: “Fal'n from a souldier to a chamberer.” Again, in Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose, ver. 4935: “Only through youth the chamberere.” Thus, in the French Poem: “Par la jeunesse la chamberiere.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1252 2&lblank; forked plague &lblank;] In allusion to a barbed or forked arrow, which, once infixed, cannot be extracted. Johnson. Or rather, the forked plague is the cuckold's horns. Percy. Dr. Johnson may be right. I meet with the same thought in Middleton's comedy of, A Mad World my Masters, 1608: “While the broad arrow, with the forked head, “Misses his brows but narrowly.” Again, in King Lear:—though the fork invade The region of my heart.— Mr. Malone supports the explanation of Dr. Percy, by the following passage in Machin's Dumb Knight, 1633: “Women, why were you made for man's affliction? “You devils, shap'd like angels, through whose deeds “Our forked shames are made most visible.” Again, from Tarlton's Newes out of Purgatorie: “&lblank; dub the old Squire Knight of the forked order.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1245

Note return to page 1253 3Desdemona comes:] Thus the quartos. The folio reads: Look where she comes. Steevens.

Note return to page 1254 4&lblank; the generous islanders] Are the islanders of rank, distinction. So, in Measure for Measure: The generous and gravest citizens Have hent the gates. Generous has here the power of generosus, Lat. This explanation, however, may be too particular. Steevens.

Note return to page 1255 5Your napkin, &c.] Ray says, that a pocket handkerchief is so called about Sheffield in Yorkshire. So, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “I can wet one of my new lockeram napkins with weeping.” Napery signifies linnen in general. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “&lblank; prithee put me into wholsome napery.” Again, in Chapman's Mayday, 1611: “Besides your munition of manchet, napery, plates, &c.” Again, in Hide Park, by Shirley, 1637: “A gentleman that loves clean napery.” Naperia, Ital. Steevens.

Note return to page 1256 6I nothing, but to please his fantasy.] Thus the folio. The quarto, 1622, reads: I nothing know but for his fantasy. Steevens.

Note return to page 1257 7&lblank; to the advantage, &c.] I being opportunely here, took it up. Johnson.

Note return to page 1258 8Be not you known on't;] Should it not rather be read, Be not you known in't? The folio reads, Be not unknown on't. The sense is plain, but of the expression I cannot produce any example. Johnson. The folio reads— Be not acknowne on't. Perhaps (says Mr. Malone) acknown was a participial adjective from the verb to acknowledge.—Do not acknowledge any thing of this matter. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1248

Note return to page 1259 9&lblank; nor mandragora,] The mandragoras or mandrake has a soporific quality, and the ancients used it when they wanted an opiate of the most powerful kind. So Ant. and Cleop. Act. I. Sc. 6. “&lblank; give me to drink mandragora, “That I may sleep out this great gap of time “My Antony is away.” So, in Heywood's Jew of Malta, 1633. “I drank of poppy and cold mandrake juice, “And being asleep,” &c. Again in Muleasses the Turk, 1610: “Image of death, and daughter of the night, “Sister to Lethe, all-oppressing sleep, “Thou, that amongst a hundred thousand dreams, “Crown'd with a wreath of mandrakes, sit'st as queen, “To whom a million of care-clogged souls “Lye quaffing juice of poppy at thy feet, “Resign thy usurpation!” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1250

Note return to page 1260 1Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou hadst yesterday.] The old quarto reads, Which thou owedst yesterday. And this is right, and of much greater force than the common reading: not to sleep, being finely called defrauding the day of a debt of nature. Warburton. To owe is, in our author, oftener to possess, than to be indebted, and such was its meaning here; but as that sense was growing less usual, it was changed unnecessarily by the editors to hadst; to the same meaning, more intelligibly expressed. Johnson. So in The Revenger's Tragedy, by Cyril Tourneur, 1607: “The duke my father's murder'd by the vassal “Who owes this habit.” So, in Albumazar, 1610: “&lblank; Who art thou?— “Th' unfortunate possessor of this house.— “Thou ly'st, base sycophant; my worship owes it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1261 2What sense had I, &c.] A similar passage to this and what follows it, is found in an unpublished tragi-comedy by Thomas Middleton, called The Witch. “I feele no ease, the burthen's not yet off “So long as the abuse sticks in my knowledge. “Oh, 'tis a paine of hell to know one's shame! “Had it byn hid and don, it had ben don happy, “For he that's ignorant lives long and merry.” Again: “Had'st thou byn secret, then had I byn happy, “And had a hope (like man) of joies to come. “Now here I stand a stayne to my creation, “And, which is heavier than all torments to me, “The understanding of this base adultery, &c.” This is utter'd by a jealous husband who supposes himself to have just destroy'd his wife.— Again, Iago says: Dangerous conceits, &c. &lblank;   &lblank; with a little act upon the blood Burn like the mines of sulphur. Thus Sebastian, in Middleton's play:— “When a suspect doth catch once, it burnes maynely.” A scene between Francisca and her brother Antonio, when she first excites his jealousy, has likewise several circumstances in common with the dialogue which passes between Iago and Othello on the same subject. This piece contains also a passage very strongly resembling another in Hamlet, who says:—“I am but mad north-northwest: when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand-saw.” —Thus, Almachildes:—“There is some difference betwixt my joviall condition and the lunary-state of madnes. I am not quight out of my witts: I know a bawd from an aqua-vitæ shop, a strumpet from wild fire, and a beadle from brimstone.” For a further account of this MS. play, see a note on Mr. Malone's Attempt to ascertain the order in which the pieces of Shakespeare were written:—Article, Macbeth. Steevens.

Note return to page 1262 3I slept the next night well, was free and merry;] Thus the quartos. The folio reads: I slept the next night well, fed well; was free and merry. Steevens.

Note return to page 1263 4Farewel the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,] Dr. Warburton has offered fear-spersing, for fear-dispersing. But ear-piercing is an epithet so eminently adapted to the fife, and so distinct from the shrillness of the trumpet, that it certainly ought not to be changed. Dr. Warburton has been censured for this proposed emendation with more noise than honesty, for he did not himself put it in the text. Johnson. The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife,] In mentioning the fife joined with the drum, Shakespeare, as usual, paints from the life; those instruments accompanying each other being used in his ages by the English soldiery. The fife, however, as a martial instrument, was afterwards entirely discontinued among our troops for many years, but at length revived in the war before the last. It is commonly supposed that our soldiers borrowed it from the Highlanders in the last rebellion: but I do not know that the fife is peculiar to the Scotch, or even used at all by them. It was first used within the memory of man among our troops by the British guards, by order of the duke of Cumberland, when they were encamped at Maestricht, in the year 1747, and thence soon adopted into other English regiments of infantry. They took it from the Allies with whom they served. This instrument, accompanying the drum, is of considerable antiquity in the European armies, particularly the German. In a curious picture in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, painted 1525, representing the siege of Pavia by the French king, where the emperor was taken prisoner, we see fifes and drums. In an old English treatise written by William Garrard before 1587, and published by one captain Hichcock in 1591, intitled The Art of Warre, there are several wood cuts of military evolutions, in which these instruments are both introduced. In Rymer's Fœdera, in a diary of king Henry's siege of Bulloigne 1544, mention is made of the drommes and viffleurs marching at the head of the king's army. Tom. xv. p. 53. The drum and fife were also much used at ancient festivals, shews, and processions. Gerard Leigh, in his Accidence of Armorie, printed in 1576, describing a Christmas magnificently celebrated at the Inner Temple, says, “We entered the prince his hall, where anon we heard the noyse of drum and fife,” p. 119. At a stately masque on Shrove-Sunday 1510, in which Henry VIII. was an actor, Holinshed mentions the entry “of a drum and fife apparelled in white damaske and grene bonnettes.” Chron. iii. 805. col. 2. There are many more instances in Holinshed, and Stowe's Survey of London. From the old French word viffleur, above-cited, came the English word whiffler, which anciently was used in its proper literal sense. Strype, speaking of a grand tilting before the court in queen Mary's reign 1554, says, from an old journal, that king Philip and the challengers entered the lists, preceded by “their whifflers, their footmen, and their armourers.” Eccles. Memor. iii. p. 211. This explains the use of the word in Shakespeare, where it is also literally applied. Hen. V. Act. 4. Sc. ult. “&lblank; behold the British beach “Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys, “Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea, “Which like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king, “Seems to prepare his way.” By degrees, the word whiffler hence acquired the metaphorical meaning, which it at present obtains in common speech, and became an appellation of contempt, Whiffler, a light trivial character, a fellow hired to pipe at processions. Warton. In the old dramatic piece, intitled Wine, Beer, Ale, and Tobacco, 2d edit. 1630. Tobacco says to Beer: “&lblank; it will become your duty to obey me.” To which Wine replies: “You our sovereign! a mere whiffler!” Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; he was known “But only for a swaggering whiffler.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1264 5Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!] Sir William D'Avenant does not appear to have been scrupulous of adopting almost Shakespeare's own words. So, in Albovine, 1629: “Then glorious war, and all proud circumstance “That gives a soldier noise, for evermore farewell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1265 6&lblank; whose rude throats] So Milton, P. L. B. 6. “From those deep-throated engines,” &c. The quarto 1622. reads—“whose wide throats” Steevens.

Note return to page 1266 7&lblank; mine eternal soul,] Perhaps the quarto, 1622, more forcibly reads: &lblank; man's eternal soul. Shakespeare might have designed an opposition between man and dog. Steevens.

Note return to page 1267 8&lblank; abandon all remorse;] Remorse, for repentance. Warburton. I rather think it is, Let go all scruples, throw aside all restraints. Johnson. I believe, remorse in this instance, as in many others, signifies pity. Steevens.

Note return to page 1268 9Do deeds to make heaven weep,] So, in Measure for Measure: “Plays such fantastick tricks before high heaven “As make the angels weep. Steevens.

Note return to page 1269 1That liv'st] Thus the quarto. The folio—that lov'st &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1270 2&lblank; sith &lblank;] The word anciently used instead of since; and so the quartos read. Steevens.

Note return to page 1271 3By the world, &c.] This speech is not in the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 1272 4Behold her tupp'd?] A ram in Staffordshire and some other counties is called a tup. So, in the first act: &lblank; an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Steevens.

Note return to page 1273 5Were they as prime as goats, &lblank;] Prime is prompt, from the Celtic or British prim. Hanmer. So, in the Vow-breaker, or the Faire Maid of Clifton, 1636: “More prime than goats or monkies in their prides.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1274 6Give me a living reason &lblank;] Living, for speaking, manifest. Warburton.

Note return to page 1275 7&lblank; a foregone conclusion:] Conclusion, for fact. Warburton.

Note return to page 1276 8Othel. 'Tis a shrewd doubt, &c.] The old quarto gives this line, with the two following, to Iago; and rightly. Warburton. I think it more naturally spoken by Othello, who, by dwelling so long upon the proof, encouraged Iago to enforce it. Johnson.

Note return to page 1277 9&lblank; yet we see nothing done;] This is an oblique and secret mock at Othello's saying, Give me the ocular proof. Warb.

Note return to page 1278 1Now do I see 'tis true.—] The old quarto reads, Now do I see 'tis time.— And this is Shakespeare's, and has in it much more force and solemnity, and preparation for what follows: as alluding to what he had said before: &lblank; No, Iago! I'll see before I doubt, when I doubt, prove; And, on the proof, there is no more but this, Away at once with love or jealousy. This time was now come. Warburton.

Note return to page 1279 2&lblank; hollow hell!] This is a poor unmeaning epithet. The old quarto reads, Arise black vengeance from thy hollow cell! Which the editors not knowing what to make of, altered it as above. It should be read thus: Arise, black vengeance, from the unhallow'd cell! Meaning the infernal regions. Warburton. The hollow hell is the reading of the folio. I do not perceive that the epithet hollow is at all unmeaning, when applied to hell, as it gives the idea of what Milton calls “&lblank; the void profound “Of unessential night.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1280 3&lblank; hearted throne] Hearted throne is strange nonsense. The old quarto reads, &lblank; and harted throne: Which the editors took for a word mis-spelt, whereas it was a word miscalled. We should read, Yield up, oh love, thy crown and parted throne: i. e. thy throne which was parted between me and Desdemona: this presents us with a fine image. The union of Othello and Desdemona was so perfect, that love divided his throne between them: which he is now bid to resume, and give to hatred. Warburton. Hearted throne, is the heart on which thou wast enthroned. Parted throne has no meaning. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1253 Iago uses the same word, though with a meaning somewhat different: “—My cause is hearted.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1281 4&lblank; swell, bosom, &c.] i. e. swell, because the fraught is of poison. Warburton.

Note return to page 1282 5&lblank; Like to the Pontic sea, &c.] This simile is omitted in the first edition: I think it should be so, as an unnatural excursion in this place. Pope. &lblank; Like the Pontic sea,] Every reader will, I durst say, abide by Mr. Pope's censure on this passage. When Shakespeare grew acquainted with such particulars of knowledge, he made a display of them as foon as opportunity offered. He found this in the Second Book and 97th Chapter of Pliny's Nat. Hist. as translated by Philemon Holland, 1601: “And the sea Pontus evermore floweth and runneth out into Propontis, but the sea never retireth backe againe within Pontus.” Mr. Edwards, in his Mss. notes, conceives this simile to allude to Sir Philip Sidney's device, whose impress, Camden, in his Remains, says, was the Caspian sea, with this motto, SINE REFLUXU. Steevens.

Note return to page 1283 6&lblank; a capable and wide revenge Capable] Ample; capacious. So, in As you like it: The cicatrice and capable impressure. So, in Pierce Penniless his Supplication to the Devil, by Nashe, 1595: “Then belike, quoth I, you make this word, Dæmon, a capable name, of Gods, of men, and of devils.” Malone.

Note return to page 1284 7&lblank; by yond marble heaven,] In Soliman and Perseda, 1599, I find the same expression: “Now by the marble face of the welkin,” &c. Steevens. So, in Marston's Antonio and Mellida, 1602: “And pleas'd the marble heavens.” Malone.

Note return to page 1285 8The execution &lblank;] The first quarto reads excellency. Steevens.

Note return to page 1286 9&lblank; let him command, And to obey, shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever.] Thus all the old copies, to the manifest depravation of the poet's sense. Mr. Pope has attempted an emendation, but with his old luck and dexterity: Not to obey, shall be in me remorse, &c. I read, with the change only of a single letter: Nor, to obey, shall be in me remorse, &c. i. e. Let your commands be ever so bloody, remorse and compassion shall not restrain me from obeying them. Theobald. &lblank; Let him command, And to obey, shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever.] Thus the old copies read, but evidently wrong. Some editions read, Not to obey; on which the editor Mr. Theobald takes occasion to alter it to, Nor to obey; and thought he had much mended matters. But he mistook the sound end of the line for the corrupt; and so by his emendation, the deep-designing Iago is foolishly made to throw off his mask, when he had most occasion for it; and without any provocation, stand before his captain a villain confessed; at a time, when, for the carrying on his plot, he should make the least show of it. For thus Mr. Theobald forces him to say, I shall have no remorse to obey your commands, how bloody soever the business be. But this is not Shakespeare's way of preserving the unity of character. Iago, till now, pretended to be one, who, though in the trade of war he had slain men, yet held it the very stuff of the conscience to do no contrived murder; when, of a sudden, without cause or occasion, he owns himself a ruffian without remorse. Shakespeare wrote and pointed the passage thus: &lblank; Let him command, And to obey shall be in me. Remord What bloody business ever. i. e. however the business he sets me upon may shock my honour and humanity, yet I promise to go through with it, and obey without reserve. Here Iago speaks in character, while the sense and grammar are made better by it. So Skelton: And if so him fortune to write and plaine, As sometimes he must vices remorde. And again: Squire, knight, and lord, Thus the churche remorde. Warburton. Of these two emendations, I believe, Theobald's will have the greater number of suffrages; it has at least mine. The objection against the propriety of the declaration in Iago, is a cavil; he does not say that he has no principle of remorse, but that it shall not operate against Othello's commands. To obey shall be in me, for I will obey you, is a mode of expression not worth the pains here taken to introduce it; and the word remorde has not in the quotation the meaning of withhold, or make reluctant, but of reprove, or censure; nor do I know that it is used by any of the contemporaries of Shakespeare. I will offer an interpretation, which, if it be received, will make alteration unnecessary, but it is very harsh and violent. Iago devotes himself to wronged Othello, and says, Let him command whatever bloody business, and in me it shall be an act, not of cruelty, but of tenderness, to obey him; not of malice to others, but of tenderness for him. If this sense be thought too violent, I see nothing better than to follow Pope's reading, as it is improved by Theobald. Johnson. &lblank; Let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody work soever.] Mr. Upton, in his Critic. Observ. p. 200, proposes to read: And to obey shall be in me no remorse. This reading the author of The Revisal approves; and Mr. Edwards seems to acquiesce in that of Theobald. The different emendations of different commentators are laid before the public for its determination on their merits; and I believe the present one, who is to throw in his conjecture with the rest, may say at last with Deiphobus, &lblank; explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris. Iago offers, in the most solemn manner, to risque himself for the service of Othello. Let him command, says he, whatever bloody business, and the remorse that follows the perpetration of such a deed shall be entirely my own. It shall be remorse in me, in me alone. I not only undertake to execute the bloody part of the business, but likewise take upon myself the horrors of remorse inseparable from the action. Iago makes use of this specious argument, the better to prevail on Othello to entrust the murder to his hands. After all, I believe Dr. Johnson's interpretation to be the best; and can only claim the merit of supporting his sense of the word remorse, i. e. pity, by the following instances. Thus, in Measure for Measure, Act 2: But you might do't, and do the world no wrong, If so your heart was touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him. Again, Act 5: My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him. Again, in Julius Cæsar, Act 2: The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from power. In Lord Surrey's Translation of the 4th Æneid, Dido says to her sister: “Sister I crave thou have remorse of me.” Again, in King Edward III, 1599, that Prince speaking to the citizens of Calais: “But for yourselves, look you for no remorse.” Again, in Sir Clyomon Knight of the Golden Shield, 1599: “Who taketh no remorse of womankind.” Again, in Sir John Oldcastle, 1600: “Here stand I craving no remorse at all.” I could add many more instances, but shall content myself to observe that the sentiment of Iago bears no small resemblance to that of Arviragus in Cymbeline: “I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, “And praise myself for charity.” Steevens. If I am not deceived, this passage has been entirely mistaken, I read: “Let him command. “An' to obey shall be in me remorse, “What bloody business ever &lblank;” And for if is sufficiently common: and Othello's impatience breaks off the sentence; I think, with additional beauty. Farmer. Before I saw Dr. Johnson's edition of Shakespeare, my opinion of this passage was formed, and written, and thus I understood it: “Let him command any bloody business, and to obey shall be in me an act of pity and compassion for wrong'd Othello. Remorse frequently signifies pity, mercy, compassion, or a tenderness of heart, unattended with the stings of a guilty conscience. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 4. Sc. 3. the crimeless Eglamour is called remorsefull. So, in King Richard III, Act 3. Sc. 7. “As well we know your tenderness of heart, And gentle kind effeminate remorse.” Again, in King Lear, Act 4. Sc. 2: A servant, that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Oppos'd against the act. Here the servant had committed no previous crime, but touched with pity and compassion for Gloucester's sufferings opposed the aggravation of them. So, in Holinshed's Conquest of Ireland, p. 13. “to have remorse and compassion upon others distresses;” and in the dedication, “to have regard and remorse to your said land.” Tollet.

Note return to page 1287 1What bloody work soever.] So the quartos. The folio: What bloody business ever. Steevens.

Note return to page 1288 2To tell you, &c.] This and the following speech are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1289 3Clown. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer.] This Clown is a fool to some purpose. He was to go seek for one; he says, he will ask for him, and by his own questions make answer. Without doubt we should read, and bid them answer; i. e. the world; those whom he questions. Warburton.

Note return to page 1290 4&lblank; cruzadoes: &lblank;] A Portugueze coin, in value three shillings sterling. Grey. So called from the cross stamped upon it. Johnson.

Note return to page 1291 5Hot, hot, and moist:] Ben Jonson seems to have attempted a ridicule on this passage, in Every man out of his Humour, Act 5. Sc. 2. where Sogliardo says to Saviolina: “How does my sweet Lady? hot and moist? beautiful and lusty?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1292 6&lblank; The hearts, of old, gave hands; But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.] It is evident that the first line should be read thus, The hands of old gave hearts: Otherwise it would be no reply to the preceding words, For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart: Not so, says her husband: The hands of old indeed gave hearts; but the custom now is to give hands without hearts. The expression of new heraldry was a satirical allusion to the times. Soon after James the First came to the crown, he created the new dignity of baronets for money. Amongst their other prerogatives of honour, they had an addition to their paternal arms, of a hand gules in an escutcheon argent. And we are not to doubt but that this was the new heraldry alluded to by our author: by which he insinuates, that some then created had hands indeed, but not hearts; that is, money to pay for the creation, but no virtue to purchase the honour. But the finest part of the poet's address in this allusion, is the compliment he pays to his old mistress Elizabeth. For James's pretence for raising money by this creation, was the reduction of Ulster, and other parts of Ireland; the memory of which he would perpetuate by that addition to their arms, it being the arms of Ulster. Now the method used by Elizabeth in the reduction of that kingdom was so different from this, the dignities she conferred being on those who employed their steel, and not their gold in this service, that nothing could add more to her glory, than the being compared to her successor in this point of view: nor was it uncommon for the dramatic poets of that time to satirize the ignominy of James's reign. So Fletcher, in The Fair Maid of the Inn. One says, I will send thee to Amboyna in the East Indies for pepper. The other replies, To Amboyna? so I might be pepper'd. Again, in the same play, a sailor says, Despise not this pitch'd canvas, the time was we have known them lined with Spanish ducats. Warburton. The historical observation is very judicious and acute, but of the emendation there is no need. She says, that her hand gave away her heart. He goes on with his suspicion, and the hand which he had before called frank, he now terms liberal; then proceeds to remark, that the hand was formerly given by the heart; but now it neither gives it, nor is given by it. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1254 &lblank; our new heraldry, &c.] I believe this to be only a figurative expression, without the least reference to King James's creation of baronets. The absurdity of making Othello so familiar with British heraldry, the utter want of consistency as well as policy in any sneer of Shakespeare at the badge of honours instituted by a Prince whom on all other occasions he was solicitous to flatter, and at whose court this very piece was acted in 1613, very strongly incline me to question the propriety of Dr. Warburton's historical explanation. Steevens.

Note return to page 1293 7&lblank; salt and sorry rheum &lblank;] The old quarto has, &lblank; salt and sullen rheum &lblank; That is, a rheum obstinately troublesome. I think this better. Johnson.

Note return to page 1294 8A sibyl, &c.] This circumstance perhaps is imitated by Ben Jonson in the Sad Shepherd: “A Gypsan lady, and a right beldame, “Wrought it by moon-shine for me, and star-light, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1295 9&lblank; number'd &lblank; The sun to course &lblank;] i. e. number'd the sun's courses: badly expressed. Warburton. The expression is not very infrequent: we say, I counted the clock to strike four; so she number'd the sun to course, to run two hundred compasses, two hundred annual circuits. Johnson.

Note return to page 1296 1&lblank; to course &lblank;] The first quarto reads,—to make &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1297 2And it was dy'd in mummy, &lblank;] The balsamic liquor running from mummies was formerly celebrated for its anti-epileptic virtues. We are now wise enough to know, that the qualities ascribed to it are all imaginary; and yet I have been informed, that this fanciful medicine still holds a place in the shops where drugs are sold. So, in The Bird in a Cage, by Shirley, 1633: “&lblank; make mummy of my flesh and sell me to the apothecaries.” Again, in The Honest Lawyer, 1616: “That I might tear their flesh in mamocks, raise “My losses, from their carcases turn'd mummy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1298 3&lblank; which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.] Thus the folio. The quarto reads—with the skilful Conserves &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1299 4&lblank; rash?] Is vehement, violent. Johnson.

Note return to page 1300 5I pray talk me of Cassio.] This and the following shott speech are omitted in all ancient editions but the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1301 6'Tis not a year or two shews us a man:] From this line it may be conjectured, that the author intended the action of this play to be considered as longer than is marked by any note of time. Since their arrival at Cyprus, to which they were hurried on their wedding-night, the fable seems to have been in one continual progress, nor can I see any vacuity into which a year or two, or even a month or two, could be put. On the night of Othello's arrival, a feast was proclaimed; at that feast Cassio was degraded, and immediately applies to Desdemona to get him restored. Iago indeed advises Othello to hold him off a while, but there is no reason to think, that he has been held off long. A little longer inverval would increase the probability of the story, though it might violate the rules of the drama. See Act 5. Sc. 2. Johnson. This line has no reference to the duration of the action of this play, or to the length of time that Desdemona had been married. What Emilia says, is a sort of proverbial remark, of general application, where a definite time is put for an indefinite. Besides, there is no necessity for fixing the commencement of Emilia's year or two, to the time of the marriage, or the opening of the piece. She would with more propriety refer to the beginning of the acquaintance and intimacy between the married couple, which might extend beyond that period. Steevens.

Note return to page 1302 7&lblank; the office of my heart,] The elder quarto reads, &lblank; the duty of my heart. The author used the more proper word, and then changed it, I suppose, for fashionable diction; but, as fashion is a very weak protectress, the old word is now ready to resume its place. Johnson.

Note return to page 1303 8But to know so, must be my benefit.] “Si nequeo placidas affari Cæsaris aures, “Saltem aliquis veniat, qui mihi dicat, abi.” Johnson.

Note return to page 1304 9And shoot myself up &lblank;] This is the reading of one of the early quartos. The folio, and all the modern editions, have, And shut myself up &lblank; Johnson. The quarto 1630 (like the folio) reads, And shut myself up &lblank; I cannot help thinking this reading to be the true one. The idea seems taken from the confinement of a monastic life. The words, forc'd content, help to confirm the supposition. The meaning will therefore be, “I will put on a constrained appearance of being contented, and shut myself up in a different course of life, no longer to depend on my own efforts, but to wait for relief from the accidental hand of charity.” Shakespeare uses the same expression in Macbeth: &lblank; and shut up In measureless content. Again, in All's well that ends well: Whose basest stars do shut us up in wishes. Steevens.

Note return to page 1305 1&lblank; in favour, &lblank;] In look, in countenance. Johnson.

Note return to page 1306 2&lblank; within the blank of his displeasure,] Within the shot of his anger. Johnson.

Note return to page 1307 3&lblank; some unhatch'd practice,] Some treason that has not taken effect. Johnson.

Note return to page 1308 4For let our finger ach, and it endues Our other healthful members with a sense Of pain. &lblank;] Endues with a sense of pain, is an expression, which, though it might be endured, if it were genuine, cannot deserve to be introduced by artifice. The copies, both quarto and folio, read, Endues our other healthful members even to a sense of pain. I believe it should be rather, Subdues our other healthful members to a sense of pain. Johnson.

Note return to page 1309 5&lblank; (unhandsome warrior as I am)] How this came to be so blundered, I cannot conceive. It is plain Shakespeare wrote, &lblank; unhandsome wrangler as I am. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: &lblank; fie wrangling queen. Warburton. Unhandsome warrior, is evidently unfair assailant. Johnson.

Note return to page 1310 6&lblank; more convenient time] The folio has, &lblank; more continuate time; Time less interrupted, time which I can call more my own. It gives a more distinct image than convenient. Johnson. The word occurs again in Timon, Sc. I. &lblank; breath'd, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness. Steevens.

Note return to page 1311 7Take me this work out.] The meaning is not, “Pick out the work, and leave the ground plain;” but, “Copy this work in another handkerchief.” Johnson. So, in a comedy, by Middleton, called Women beware Women: “&lblank; she intends “To take out other works in a new sampler.” Again, in the preface to P. Holland's Pliny, 1601: “Nicophanes (a famous painter) gave his mind wholly to antique pictures, partly to exemplifie and take out their patterns, after that in long continuance of time they were decaied.” Steevens. So, in Hearne's Liber Niger Scaccarii, vol. ii. p. 578. 581. and 585, “to take out the arms,” means to copy them. Tollet.

Note return to page 1312 1Why, I pray you?] This and the following speech are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1313 9&lblank; I must be circumstanc'd.] i. e. your civility is now grown conditional. Warburton.

Note return to page 1314 1Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm? It is hypocrisy against the devil:] This observation seems strangely abrupt and unoccasioned. We must suppose that Iago had, before they appear in this scene, been applying cases of false comfort to Othello; as that though the parties had been even found in bed together, there might be no harm done; it might be only for the trial of their virtue; as was reported of the Romish saint, Robert D'Arbrissel and his nuns. To this we must suppose Othello here replies; and like a good protestant. For so the sentiment does but suit the character of the speaker, Shakespeare little heeds how these sentiments are circumstanced. Warburton. Hypocrisy against the devil, means hypocrisy to cheat the devil. As common hypocrites cheat men, by seeming good, and yet living wickedly, these men would cheat the devil, by giving him flattering hopes, and at last avoiding the crime which he thinks them ready to commit. Johnson.

Note return to page 1315 2The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.] It is plain, from the whole tenor of the words, that the speaker would distinguish this strange fantastical presumption from other lesser kinds of indiscretion, where prudence is off its guard. But this reading does not distinguish it from any other, it being true of all who run into temptation, that the devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven. The true reading, therefore, without question, is this: The devil their virtue tempts not; they tempt heaven. i. e. they do not give the devil the trouble of throwing temptations in their way: they seek them out themselves, and so tempt heaven by their presumption. This is a just character of the extravagance here condemned, and distinguishes it from other inferior indiscretions. Warburton. Shakespeare had probably in view a very popular book of his time, The Beehive of the Roman Church. “There was an old wife, called Julia, which would take the young men and maides, and lay them together in a bed. And for that they should not one byte another, nor kicke backewardes with their heeles, she did lay a crucifix betweene them.” Farmer.

Note return to page 1316 3Boding to all &lblank;] Thus all the old copies. The moderns, less grammatically, Boding to ill &lblank; Johnson. The raven was thought to be a constant attendant on a house in which there was infection. So, in Marlowe's Jew of Malta, 1633: “Thus like the sad presaging raven, that tolls “The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, “And in the shadow of the silent night “Does shake contagion from her sable wing.” Malone.

Note return to page 1317 4Convinc'd or supplied them,] I cannot understand the vulgar reading. I read, convinc'd or suppled. My emendation makes the sense of the passage easy and intelligible: that there are some such long-tongued knaves in the world, who, if they through the force of importunity extort a favour from their mistress, or if through her own fondness they make her pliant to their desires, cannot help boasting of their success. To convince, here, is not, as in the common acceptation, to make sensible of the truth of any thing by reasons and arguments; but to overcome, get the better of, &c. Theobald. Convinc'd] Convinc'd, for conquer'd, subdued. Warburton. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; his two chamberlains “Will I, with wine and wassel so convince.” Again, in the same play: “&lblank; their malady convinces “The great assay of art.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1318 5&lblank; to confess and be hang'd &lblank;] This is a proverbial saying. It is used by Marlow, in his Jew of Malta, 1633: “Blame us not, but the proverb—Confess and be hang'd.” It occurs again, in The Travels of the 3 English Brothers, 1593: And in one of the old collections of small Poems there is an epigram on it. All that remains of this speech, including the words to confess, is wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1319 6&lblank; shadowing passion &lblank;] The modern editions have left out passion. Johnson.

Note return to page 1320 7&lblank; without some instruction. &lblank;] The starts and broken reflections in this speech have something very terrible, and shew the mind of the speaker to be in inexpressible agonies. But the words we are upon, when set right, have a sublime in them that can never be enough admired. The ridiculous blunder of writing instruction for induction (for so it should be read) has indeed sunk it into arrant nonsense. Othello is just going to fall into a swoon; and, as is common for people in that circumstance, feels an unusual mist and darkness, accompanied with horror, coming upon him. This, with vast sublimity of thought, is compared to the season of the sun's eclipse, at which time the earth becomes shadowed by the induction or bringing over of the moon between it and the sun. This being the allusion, the reasoning stands thus: “My nature could never be thus overshadowed, and falling, as it were, into dissolution, for no cause. There must be an induction of something: there must be a real cause. My jealousy cannot be merely imaginary. Ideas, words only, could not shake me thus, and raise all this disorder. My jealousy therefore must be grounded on matter of fact.” Shakespeare uses this word in the same sense, in Richard III. “A dire induction am I witness to.” Marston seems to have read it thus in some copy, and to allude to it in these words of his Fame: “Plots ha' you laid? inductions dangerous!” Warburton. This is a noble conjecture, and whether right or wrong does honour to its author. Yet I am in doubt whether there is any necessity of emendation. There has always prevailed in the world an opinion, that when any great calamity happens at a distance, notice is given of it to the sufferer by some dejection or perturbation of mind, of which he discovers no external cause. This is ascribed to that general communication of one part of the universe with another, which is called sympathy and antipathy; or to the secret monition, instruction, and influence of a superior Being, which superintends the order of nature and of life. Othello says, Nature could not invest herself in such shadowing passion without instruction. It is not words that shake me thus. This passion, which spreads its clouds over me, is the effect of some agency more than the operation of words; it is one of those notices which men have of unseen calamities. Johnson. Nature could not invest herself in such shadowing passion without some instruction.] However ingenious Dr. Warburton's note may be, it is certainly too forced and far-fetched. Othello alludes only to Cassio's dream, which had been invented and told him by Iago. When many confused and very interesting ideas pour in upon the mind all at once, and with such rapidity that it has not time to shape or digest them, if it does not relieve itself by tears (which we know it often does, whether for joy or grief) it produces stupefaction and fainting. Othello, in broken sentences and single words, all of which have a reference to the cause of his jealousy, shews, that all the proofs are present at once to his mind, which so over-powers it, that he falls into a trance, the natural consequence. Sir J. Reynolds.

Note return to page 1321 8Noses, ears, and lips:] Othello is imaging to himself the familiarities which he supposes to have passed between Cassio and his wife. So, in the Winter's Tale: Cheek to cheek,—meeting noses &lblank; Kissing with inside lip, &c. &lblank; If this be not the meaning, we must suppose he is meditating a cruel punishment for Desdemona and her suspected paramour: &lblank; raptis Auribus, et truncas inhonesto vulnere nares. Steevens.

Note return to page 1322 9A horned man &lblank;] In Much Ado about Nothing, I omitted to attempt the illustration of a passage where Benedick says—“there is no staff more honourable than one tipt with horn.” Perhaps he alludes to the staff which was anciently carried before a challenger. Thus, in Stowe's Chronicle, edit. 1615, p. 669: “&lblank; his baston (a staffe of an elle long, made taper-wise, tipt with horne) &c. was borne before him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1323 1&lblank; in those unproper beds,] Unproper, for common. Warburton. So, in The Arcadia, by Shirley, 1640: “Every woman shall be common.— “Every woman common! what shall we do with all the proper women in Arcadia? “They shall be common too.” Again, in Gower De Confessione Amantis, B. 2. fol. “And is his proper by the lawe.” Again, in the Mastive, &c. an ancient collection of epigrams and satires, no date: “Rose is a fayre, but not a proper woman, “Can any creature proper be, that's common?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1324 2&lblank; list.] For attention; act of listening. Johnson, It appears to me that a plain sense is on this occasion rejected in favour of one more remote; and perhaps no instance of such a use of the word list can be brought in support of it. The obvious meaning of list, or lists, is barriers, bounds. Keep your temper, says Iago, within the bounds of patience. So, in Hamlet: The ocean over-peering of his list, Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste, &c. Collins. Again, in King Henry V. Act 5. Sc. 2. “&lblank; you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country fashion.” Again, in King Henry IV. P. I: The very list, the very utmost bound, Of all our fortunes. Chapman, in his translation of the 16th Book of Homer's Odyssey, has expressed the same thought: “&lblank; let thy heart “Beat in fix'd confines of thy bosom still.” Again, in All's well that ends well, Act 2. Sc. I: “&lblank; you have restrain'd yourself within the list of too cold an adieu.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1325 3&lblank; ere while, mad with your grief,] Thus the first quarto. The folio reads: &lblank; o'erwhelmed with your grief. Steevens.

Note return to page 1326 4&lblank; encave yourself,] Hide yourself in a private place. Johnson.

Note return to page 1327 5Or I shall say, you are all in all in spleen,] I read: Or shall I say, you're all in all a spleen. I think our author uses this expression elsewhere. Johnson. A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen.—The old reading, however, is not inexplicable. We still say, such one is in wrath, in the dumps, &c. The sense therefore is plain. Again, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1328 6And his unbookish jealousy &lblank;] Unbookish, for ignorant. Warburton.

Note return to page 1329 7Do you triumph? Roman? do you triumph?] Othello calls him Roman ironically. Triumph, which was a Roman ceremony, brought Roman into his thoughts. What (says he) you are now triumphing as great as a Roman? Johnson.

Note return to page 1330 8&lblank; a customer! &lblank;] A common woman, one that invites custom. Johnson. So, in All's well that ends well: I think thee now some common customer. Steevens.

Note return to page 1331 9Have you scor'd me? &lblank;] Have you made my reckoning? have you settled the term of my life? The old quarto reads, stored me. Have you disposed of me? have you laid me up? Johnson. To score originally meant no more than to cut a notch upon a tally, or to mark out a form by indenting it on any substance. Spenser, in the first Canto of his Faery Queen, speaking of the Cross, says: “Upon his shield the like was also scor'd.” Again, b. 2. c. 9: “&lblank; why on your shield, so goodly scor'd, “Bear you the picture of that lady's head?” But it was soon figuratively used for setting a brand or mark of disgrace on any one. “Let us score their backs,” says Scarus, in Antony and Cleopatra; and it is employed in the same sense on the present occasion. Steevens.

Note return to page 1332 1&lblank; by this hand &lblank;] This is the reading of the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1333 2&lblank; fitchew! &lblank;] A polecat. Pope. Shakespeare has in another place mentioned the lust of this animal. He tells Iago, that she is as lewd as the polecat, but of better scent, the polecat being a very stinking animal. Johnson. A pole-cat was anciently one of the cant terms for a strumpet. Steevens.

Note return to page 1334 3&lblank; No, my heart is turn'd to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. &lblank;] This thought, as often as it occurs to Shakespeare, is sure to be received, and as often counteracts his pathos. So, in Antony and Cleopatra, Act 4. Sc. 8: “&lblank; throw my heart “Against the flint and hardness of my fault, “Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, “And finish all foul thoughts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1335 4&lblank; atone them, &lblank;] Make them one; reconcile them. Johnson. So, in Cymbeline: I did atone my countryman and you. Steevens.

Note return to page 1336 5If that the earth could teem, &c.] If womens tears could impregnate the earth. By the doctrine of equivocal generation, new animals were supposed producible by new combinations of matter. See Bacon. Johnson.

Note return to page 1337 6Each drop she falls] To fall is here a verb active. So, in the Tempest: &lblank; when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. Steevens.

Note return to page 1338 7&lblank; Proceed you in your tears.—] I cannot think that the poet meant to make Othello bid Desdemona to continue weeping, which proceed you in your tears (as the passage is at present polluted) must mean. He rather would have said, &lblank; Proceed you in your tears?— What! will you still continue to be a hypocrite by a display of this well-painted passion? Warner.

Note return to page 1339 8Cassio shall have my place.] Perhaps this is addressed to Desdemona, who had just expressed her joy on hearing Cassio was deputed in the room of her husband. Her innocent satisfaction in the hope of returning to her native place, is construed by Othello into the pleasure she received from the advancement of his rival. Steevens.

Note return to page 1340 9Goats and monkies!] In this exclamation Shakespeare has shewn great art. Iago, in the first scene in which he endeavours to awaken his suspicion, being urged to give some evident proof of the guilt of Cassio and Desdemona, tells him it were impossible to have ocular demonstration of it, though they should be “as prime as goats, as hot as monkies.”—These words, we may suppose, still ring in the ears of Othello, who being now fully convinced of his wife's infidelity, rushes out with this emphatic exclamation:—Iago's words were but too true—now indeed I am convinced that they are as hot as “goats and monkies.” Malone.

Note return to page 1341 1&lblank; whose solid virtue The shot of accident, nor dart of chance, Could neither graze nor pierce.] But it is no commendation to the most solid virtue to be free from the attacks of fortune: but that it is so impenetrable as to suffer no impression. Now to graze signifies only to touch the superficies of any thing. That is the attack of fortune: and by that virtue is tried, but not discredited. We ought certainly therefore to read: Can neither raze nor pierce. i. e. neither lightly touch upon, nor pierce into. The ignorant transcribers being acquainted with the phrase of a bullet grazing, and shot being mentioned in the line before, they corrupted the true word. Besides, we do not say, graze a thing; but graze on it. Warburton. I have ventured to attack another part of this sentence, which my ingenious friend slipped over. I cannot see, for my heart, the difference betwixt the shot of accident and dart of chance. The words and things they imply are purely synonimous; but that the poet intended two different things seems plain from the discretive adverb. Chance may afflict a man in some circumstances; but other distresses are to be accounted for from a different cause. I am persuaded our author wrote: The shot of accident, nor dart of change, &c. And, in a number of other places, our poet industriously puts these two words in opposition to each other. Theobald. To graze is not merely to touch superficially, but to strike not directly, not so as to bury the body of the thing striking in the matter struck. Theobald trifles, as is usual. Accident and chance may admit a subtle distinction; accident may be considered as the act, and chance as the power or agency of fortune; as, It was by chance that this accident befel me. At least, if we suppose all corrupt that is inaccurate, there will be no end of emendation. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1255

Note return to page 1342 2But not your words.] This line is added out of the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 1343 3&lblank; time of scorn] The reading of both the eldest quartos and the folio is, “&lblank; for the time of scorn.” Mr. Rowe reads “hand of scorn;” and succeeding editors have silently followed him. I would (though in opposition to so many great authorities in favour of the change) continue to read with the old copy: &lblank; the time of scorn. We call the hour in which we are to die, the hour of death—the time when we are to be judged—the day of judgment—the instant when we suffer calamity—the moment of evil; and why may we not distinguish the time which brings contempt along with it, by the title of the time of scorn? Thus, in Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “So sings the mariner upon the shore, “When he hath past the dangerous time of storms.” Again, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: “I'll poison thee; with murder curbe thy paths, “And make thee know a time of infamy.” Othello takes his idea from a clock. To make me (says he) a fixed figure (on the dial of the world) for the hour of scorn to point and make a full stop at! Steevens. Might not Shakespeare have written— &lblank; for the scorn of time To point his slow unmoving finger at? i. e. the marked object for the contempt of all ages and all time. So, in Hamlet: For who would bear the whips and scorns of time? However, in support of the reading of the old copies, it may be observed, that our author has personified scorn in his 88th Sonnet: “When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light, And place my merit in the eye of scorn”— The epithet unmoving (which some of the editors changed to —and moving) may likewise be supported by Shakespeare's 104th Sonnet, in which this very thought is expressed: “Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived, So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q12569Q1257

Note return to page 1344 4&lblank; garner'd up my heart;] That is, treasured up; the garner and the fountain are improperly conjoined. Johnson.

Note return to page 1345 5&lblank; Turn thy complexion there, &c.] At such an object do thou, patience, thyself change colour; at this do thou, even thou, rosy cherub as thou art, look grim as hell. The old editions and the new have it, I here look grim as hell. I was written for ay, and not since corrected. Johnson.

Note return to page 1346 6&lblank; O thou weed!] Dr. Johnson has, on this occasion, been unjustly censured for having stifled difficulties where he could not remove them. I would therefore observe, that Othello's speech is printed word for word from the folio edition, though the quarto reads: &lblank; O thou black weed! Had this epithet, black, been admitted, there would still have remained an incomplete verse in the speech: no additional beauty would have been introduced; but instead of it, a paltry antithesis between the words black and fair. Steevens.

Note return to page 1347 7Was this fair paper, &c.] Massinger has imitated this passage in The Emperor of the East: “&lblank; can you think “This masterpiece of heaven, this precious vellum “Of such a purity and virgin whiteness, “Could be design'd to have perjury and whoredom “In capital letters writ upon't?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1348 8Committed!] This, and the three following lines, are omitted in the first quarto. Steevens. This word in Shakespeare's time, besides its general signification, seems to have been applied particularly to unlawful acts of love. Hence perhaps it is so often repeated by Othello.—So, in Sir Tho. Overbury's Very Woman, 1610: “She commits with her ears for certain; after that she may go for a maid, but she has been lain with in her understanding.” The word is used in the same sense in King Lear: “Commit not with man's sworn spouse.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, first Part: “&lblank; if all committers stood in a rank, “They'd make a lane in which your shame might dwell” Malone.

Note return to page 1349 9&lblank; any other,] Thus the folio. The quarto reads—any bated. Steevens.

Note return to page 1350 1Who is thy lord?] This, and the following speech, are omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1351 2The small'st opinion on my least misuse?] The old quarto reads; The small'st opinion on my great'st abuse. Which I think is better. Johnson.

Note return to page 1352 3&lblank; upon his callet.] Callet is a lewd woman; so called (says Dr. Grey) from the French calote, which was a sort of head-dress worn by country girls. This head-dress is mentioned by Ben Jonson in his Magnetic Lady: “The wearing the callot, the politic hood.” The word is likewise found in Cocke Lorelles Bote, a satyre, bl. l. printed by Wynkyn de Worde; no date: “Yf he call her calat, she calleth hym knave agayne.” Steevens. &lblank; such terms upon his callet.] This word is of great antiquity in the English language. Chaucer has it in his Remedy of Love: C, for calet, for of, we have O, L, for leude, D, for demeanure, &c. Percy.

Note return to page 1353 4&lblank; notorious &lblank;] For gross, not in its proper meaning for known. Johnson.

Note return to page 1354 5&lblank; such companions] Companion, in the time of Shakespeare was used as word of contempt in the same sense as fellow is at this day. So, in the Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “How now, base companion!” Again, in the Spanish Tragedy, 1605: “And better 'tis that base companions die, Than by their life to hazard our good haps.” Malone.

Note return to page 1355 6Speak within door.] Do not clamour so as to be heard beyond the house. Johnson.

Note return to page 1356 7&lblank; the seamy side without:] That is, inside out. Johnson.

Note return to page 1357 8Here I kneel, &c.] The first quarto omits the rest of this speech. Steevens.

Note return to page 1358 9Either in discourse, or thought,] The folio reads—discourse of thought—and perhaps rightly. See Milton, P. L. B. V. l. 488. Steevens.

Note return to page 1359 1&lblank; chide with you.] This line is from the quarto, 1622. Steevens.

Note return to page 1360 2And the great messengers of Venice stay;] Thus the quarto. The folio reads: “The messengers of Venice stay the meat. Steevens.

Note return to page 1361 3&lblank; and acquaintance; &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quarto reads— and acquittance. Steevens.

Note return to page 1362 4&lblank; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her. &lblank;] We should read: &lblank; and he, she lov'd, forsook her, And she prov'd mad.— Warburton. I believe that mad only signifies wild, frantick, uncertain. Johnson. We still call a wild girl a mad-cap: and, in the first Part of King Henry VI, are mentioned, Mad, natural graces that extinguish art. Again, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: Come on, you mad-cap. Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Do you hear, my mad wenches?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1363 5&lblank; I've much ado, But to go hang my head &lblank;] I have much ado to do any thing but hang my head. We might read: Not to go hang my head. This is perhaps the only insertion made in the latter editions which has improved the play. The rest seem to have been added for the sake of amplification, or of ornament. When the imagination had subsided, and the mind was no longer agitated by the horror of the action, it became at leisure to look round for specious additions. This addition is natural. Desdemona can at first hardly forbear to sing the song; she endeavours to change her train of thoughts, but her imagination at last prevails, and she sings it. Johnson. From I have much to do, to Nay that's not next, was inserted after the first edition, as likewise the remaining part of the song.

Note return to page 1364 6The poor soul, &c.] This song, in two parts, is printed in a late collection of old ballads; the lines preserved here differ somewhat from the copy discovered by the ingenious collector. Johnson.

Note return to page 1365 7&lblank; sat singing &lblank;] Thus the old copies: but the song as published by Dr. Percy, in the first volume of his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, reads—“sat sighing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1366 8I call'd my love false love; &lblank;] This couplet is not in the ballad, which is the complaint, not of a woman forsaken, but of a man rejected. These lines were probably added when it was accommodated to a woman. Johnson.

Note return to page 1367 9I have heard it said so.] This, as well as the following speech, is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1368 1&lblank; to the vantage,] i. e. to boot, over and above. Steevens.

Note return to page 1369 2But I do think, &c.] The remaining part of this speech is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1370 3&lblank; our former having &lblank;] Our former allowance of expence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1371 4&lblank; heaven me such uses send,] Such is the reading of the folio, and of the subsequent editions; but the old quarto has: &lblank; such usage send.— Usage is an old word for custom, and, I think, better than uses. Johnson.

Note return to page 1372 5In some editions I've rubb'd this young gnat almost to the sense, And he grows angry.] This is a passage much controverted among the editors. Sir T. Hanmer reads quab, a gudgeon; not that a gudgeon can be rubbed to much sense, but that a man grossly deceived is often called a gudgeon. Mr. Upton reads quail, which he proves, by much learning, to be a very choleric bird. Dr. Warburton retains gnat, which is found in the early quarto. Theobald would introduce knot, a small bird of that name. I have followed the text of the folio, and third and fourth quartos. A quat in the midland counties is a pimple, which by rubbing is made to smart, or is rubbed to sense. Roderigo is called a quat by the same mode of speech, as a low fellow is now termed in low language a scab. To rub to the sense, is to rub to the quick. Johnson. So, in The Devil's Law-case, 1623: “O young quat! incontinence is plagued in all creatures in the world.” Again, in Deckar's Gul's Hornbrook, 1609: “&lblank; whether he be a yong quat of the first yeeres revennew, or some austere and sullen-fac'd steward, &c.” Such another thought occurs in Ben Jonson's Catiline: “&lblank; must have their disgraces still new rubb'd, “To make them smart, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1373 6&lblank; my gain:] The quartos read—my game. Steevens.

Note return to page 1374 7And your fate hies apace:] Thus the first quarto. The second quarto and the folio read—And your unblest fate hies. Steevens.

Note return to page 1375 8Forth of my heart, &c.] Thus the first quarto. The folio reads, For of: perhaps the true reading is, For off, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1376 9&lblank; no passage? &lblank;] No passengers? nobody going by? Johnson. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “Now in the stirring passage of the day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1377 1&lblank; a heavy night;] A thick cloudy night, in which an ambush may be commodiously laid. Johnson. So, in Measure for Measure: Upon the heavy middle of the night. Steevens.

Note return to page 1378 2Lend me a garter, &c.] This speech is omitted in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1379 3Alas my friend, and my dear countryman!] This passage incontestably proves that Iago was meant for a Venetian. N. B. All the notes to which no names are subscribed, are taken from the last Oxford edition. Steevens.

Note return to page 1380 4&lblank; good gentlemen.] Thus the folio. The quartos read, gentlewoman. Steevens.

Note return to page 1381 5&lblank; the gastness] So the folio. The quartos read, jestures. Steevens.

Note return to page 1382 6Nay, if you stare,] So the folio. The quartos read, stirre. Steevens.

Note return to page 1383 7&lblank; or fordoes me quite.] To fordo is to undo, to ruin, to destroy. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; did with desperate hand “Fordo its own life.” Again, in the Interlude of Jacob and Esau, 1568: “If Got were so pleased, I would that were fordonne.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1384 8It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,— Let me not name it &lblank;] The abruptness of this soliloquy makes it obscure. The meaning, I think, is this: “I am here (says Othello in his mind) overwhelmed with horror. What is the reason of this perturbation? Is it want of resolution to do justice? Is it the dread of shedding blood? No; it is not the action that shocks me, but it is the cause, it is the cause, my soul; let me not name it to you, ye chaste stars! it is the cause.” Johnson. Othello, full of horror at the cruel action which he is about to perpetrate, seems at this instant to be seeking his justification, from representing to himself the cause, i. e. the greatness of the provocation he had received. Steevens.

Note return to page 1385 9Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.] This is the second attempt of Othello to justify what he has undertaken. First he says, It is the cause, i. e. his own cause; now he is willing to suppose himself the preventer of succeeding mischief to others. Steevens.

Note return to page 1386 1Put out the light, and then—Put out the light!] So it should be printed. The meaning is, I will put out the light, and then proceed to the execution of my purpose. But the expression of putting out the light, bringing to mind the effects of the extinction of the light of life, he breaks short, and questions himself about the effects of this metaphorical extinction, introduced by a repetition of his first words, as much as to say, But hold, let me first weigh the reflections which this expression so naturally excites. Warburton. This has been considered as a very difficult line. Fielding makes Betterton and Booth dispute about it with the author himself in the other world. The punctuation recommended by Dr. Warburton, gives a spirit to it which I fear was not intended. It seems to have been only a play upon words. To put the light out was a phrase for to kill. In the Maid's tragedy, Melantius says, &lblank; 'Tis a justice, and a noble one, “To put the light out of such base offenders.” Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1263 Put out the light. This phrase is twice used in Sidney's Arcadia for killing a lady, p. 460 and 470. edit. 1633. Steevens.

Note return to page 1387 2&lblank; put out thy light,] Thus the folio. The quarto reads— put out thine. Steevens.

Note return to page 1388 3&lblank; relumine.] The folio reads—relume. The first quarto— return: the second quarto—relumine. Steevens.

Note return to page 1389 4&lblank; thy rose,] Thus the folio. The quarto reads, &lblank; the rose. Again, the quarto reads, “I'll smell it on the tree.” The folio, “I'll smell thee on the tree.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1390 5&lblank; This sorrow's heavenly;] This tenderness, with which I lament the punishment which justice compels me to inflict, is a holy passion. I wish these two lines could be honestly ejected. It is the sate of Shakespeare to counteract his own pathos. Johnson. Perhaps the poet would not have retained both these images had he published the play himself, though in the hurry of composition he threw them both upon paper. The first seems adopted from the fabulous history of the crocodile, the second from a passage in the scripture. Steevens.

Note return to page 1391 6I would not kill thy soul.] Sir W. D'Avenant has borrowed this thought in his Albovine King of Lombardy, 1629: “I am not fraught with devil's spleen; I would “Not hurt thy soul.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1392 7A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.] This line is difficult. Thou hast hardened my heart, and makest me kill thee with the rage of a murderer, when I thought to have sacrificed thee to justice with the calmness of a priest striking a victim. It must not be omitted, that one of the elder quartos reads, thou dost stone thy heart; which I suspect to be genuine. The meaning then will be, thou forcest me to dismiss thee from the world in the state of the murdered without preparation for death, when I intended that thy punishment should have been a sacrifice atoning for thy crime. I am glad that I have ended my revisal of this dreadful scene. It is not to be endured. Johnson.

Note return to page 1393 8&lblank; hath ta'en order for't.] i. e. has taken measures. So, in Holinshed's Reign of King John: “&lblank; he took such order for him, that he was despoiled of all his goods and benefices,” p. 174. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1264

Note return to page 1394 9Had all his hairs been lives, &lblank;] This thought appears to have been very common, as it occurs frequently in dramatic performances prior to Shakespeare's Othello. So, in the Devil's Charter, by Barnaby Barnes, 1607: “Know Cæsar, had I now as many lives “As there are stones, or hairs upon my head, “I would,” &c. Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's King and no King: &lblank; but if all My hairs were lives, I would not be engaged In such a cause. Steevens.

Note return to page 1395 1Being done, There is no pause.] The first quarto omits this speech. Steevens.

Note return to page 1396 2It is too late.] After this speech of Othello, the elder quarto adds an invocation from Desdemona, consisting only of the sacred name, thrice repeated. As this must be supposed to have been uttered while she is yet struggling with death, I think an editor may be excused from inserting such a circumstance of supererogatory horror, especially as it is found in but one of the ancient copies. Steevens. This alteration was probably made by the players, in consequence of a statute of the 21st of James I. to reform prophane cursing and swearing. Sir John Hawkins. The statute was necessary; for not only the ancient moralities, but the plays (those of Chapman in particular) abound with the most wanton and shocking repetitions of a name which never ought to be mentioned in such an irreverend manner on the stage. Steevens. Sir John Hawkins should have referred to the statute of the 3d of James I. c. 21. which lays a penalty for the profance use of the name of God, &c. in stage-plays, enterludes, May-games, &c. Tollet.

Note return to page 1397 3My wife! my wife! what wife?—I have no wife:] Filium unicum adolescentulum habeo: ah! quid dixi habere me? imo habui, Chreme. Ter. Heautont. Steevens.

Note return to page 1398 4O falsely, falsely murder'd!] It cannot be supposed that a person who had been effectually strangled or smothered, could speak again; for if the power of breathing returned after the instrument of suffocation was removed, no act of violence had in reality taken place by which the conclusion of life could be brought on. But such is the peculiar fate of Desdemona, that she is supposed to be smothered, revives to acquaint us that she smothered herself, and then dies without any ostensible cause of death. I am of opinion that some theatrical direction has been omitted; and that when Othello says: Not dead? not yet quite dead? I, that am cruel, am yet merciful; I would not have thee linger in thy pain:— So, so. He then stabs her, repeating the two last words, as he repeats the blow. Thus Virgil: &lblank;sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras. After a repetition of wounds, Desdemona might speak again, with propriety, and yet very soon expire; as says Cassio of Roderigo: &lblank; even but now he spake, After long seeming dead. The first resolution of Othello was to poison her, but from this measure he is dissuaded by the policy of Iago. He is next determined to use the poniard; but, his tenderness awaking, he cannot bear to deform those beauties which he had so often approached with other sensations and for different purposes. Therefore, says he: &lblank; I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster: And this resolution we are to imagine he would have kept, but that he was averse to employing those means again, which had already appeared to be uncertain in their effect. If this apparent want of a play-house direction had occasioned any absurdity in the original representation of the play, probably it is glanced at by Ben Jonson in the Alchemist, Act 5: “Did'st hear a cry, said'st thou? Yes, sir, like unto a man that had been strangled an hour, and could not speak.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1399 5&lblank; false as water.] As water that will support no weight, nor keep any impression. Johnson.

Note return to page 1400 6&lblank; that told me first;] The folio reads, “&lblank; that told me on her first.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1401 7&lblank; iteration, &lblank;] The folio reads—iterance. Steevens.

Note return to page 1402 8Æmil.] The first quarto omits this and the following speech. Steevens.

Note return to page 1403 9&lblank; villainy has made mocks with love!] Villainy has taken advantage to play upon the weakness of a violent passion. Johnson.

Note return to page 1404 1Thou hast not half that power to do me harm, As I have to be hurt. &lblank;] Power for will: for will signifying both ability and inclination, and power signifying ability, he uses power for inclination. But the Oxford Editor, nor understanding his author's phraseology any better when he had ended than when he had begun with him, alters, As I have to be hurt, to, As I have to bear hurt: which yet does not mend the matter, had the poet here used power in the sense of ability. Warburton. The Oxford Editor saw well the meaning of his author, but weakened his expression. She means to say, I have in this cause power to endure more than thou hast power to inflict. Johnson.

Note return to page 1405 2&lblank; charm your tongue.] I know not whether I have read, or whether my own thoughts have suggested, an alteration of this passage. It seems to me not improbable, that Shakespeare wrote clam your tongue; to clam a bell, is to cover the clapper with felt, which drowns the blow, and hinders the sound. Johnson. &lblank; charm your tongue.] By this expression, Charm your tongue, the poet meant no more than to make Iago say, Apply some power, strong as a charm would be, to your tongue; for nothing less can stop its volubility. So Henry VI. Part 3: “Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.” So Ben Jonson, in Cynthia's Revels: “&lblank; charm your skipping tongue.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. 5. c. 9: “That well could charm his tongue, and time his speech.” Again, in the Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619: “The surest way to charm a woman's tongue, “Is to break her neck:—a politician did it.” Pliny informs us, that favete linguis was the constant exclamation before any religious charm was applied. From this circumstance the phrase to charm a tongue might have originated. Steevens.

Note return to page 1406 3&lblank; My mistress, &c.] This line, and the following six speeches, are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1407 4A thousand times commited; &lblank;] This is another passage which seems to suppose a longer space comprised in the action of this play than the scenes include. Johnson. That she with Cassio had the act of shame A thousand times committed.— And again: 'Tis not a year or two shews us a man.] I am not convinced from these passages only, that a longer space is comprised in the action of this play than the scenes include. What Othello mentions in the first instance, might have passed still more often, before they were married, when Cassio went between them; for she, who could find means to elude the vigilance of her father in respect of Othello, might have done so in respect of Cassio, when there was time enough for the occurrence supposed to have happened. A jealous person will aggravate all he thinks, or speaks of; and might use a thousand for a much less number, only to give weight to his censure: nor would it have answered any purpose to have made Othello a little nearer or further off from truth in his calculation. We might apply the poet's own words in Cymbeline: “&lblank; spare your arithmetic; “Once, and a million.” The latter is a proverbial expression, and might have been introduced with propriety, had they been married only a day or two. Æmilia's reply perhaps was dictated by her own private experience; and seems to mean only, “that it is too soon to judge of a husband's disposition; or that Desdemona must not be surprized at the discovery of Othello's jealousy, for it is not even a year or two that will display all the failings of a man.” Mr. Tollet, however, on this occasion has produced several instances in support of Dr. Johnson's opinion; and as I am unable to explain them in favour of my own supposition, I shall lay them before the public. “Act 3. Sc. 3. Othello says: What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust? I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: I slept the next night well, was free and merry: I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips. On Othello's wedding night he and Cassio embarked from Venice, where Desdemona was left under the care of Iago. They all meet at Cyprus; and since their arrival there, the scenes include only one night, the night of the celebration of their nuptials. Iago had not then infused any jealousy into Othello's mind, nor did he suspect any former intimacy between Cassio and Desdemona, but only thought it “apt, and of great credit that she loved him.” What night then was there to intervene between Cassio's kisses and Othello's sleeping the next night well? Iago has said, “I lay with Cassio lately,” which he could not have done, unless they had been longer at Cyprus than is represented in the play; nor could Cassio have kept away, for the space of a whole week, from Bianca.”

Note return to page 1408 5It was an handkerchief, &c.] Othello tells his wife, Act. 3. Sc. 10: &lblank; that handkerchief Did an Ægyptian to my mother give. And here he says: It was an handkerchief, &lblank; My father gave my mother. This last passage has been censured as an oversight in the poet: but perhaps it exhibits only a fresh proof of his art. The first account of the handkerchief, as given by Othello, was purposely ostentatious, in order to alarm his wife the more. When he mentions it a second time, the truth was sufficient for his purpose. This circumstance of the handkerchief is perhaps ridiculed by Ben Jonson, in his Poetaster—“you shall see me do the Moor; master, lend me your scarf.” Steevens. I question, whether Othello was written early enough to be ridiculed in the Poetaster. There were many other Moors on the stage. It is certain at least, that the passage, “Our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.” could not be inserted before the middle of the year 1611. Farmer. If the allusion in the Poetaster (which was printed in 1601) were to Othello, it would fix its date much earlier than I conceive it to have been written.—But the allusion in the passage quoted, is not to Othello, but to an old play called the Battle of Alcazar, 1594.—In the Poetaster, Pyrgus, who says, “you shall see me do the Moor,” proceeds in the same scene, and repeats an absurd speech of the Moor's in the Battle of Alcazar, beginning with this line: “Where art thou, boy? where is Calipolis?” which ascertains the allusion to be to that play. Malone.

Note return to page 1409 6&lblank; as the north;] The old quarto reads, I'll be in speaking liberal as the air. Liberal, is free, under no controul. This quality of the Northwind is mentioned in Victoria Corombona, &c. 1612: “And let th' irregular North wind sweep her up.” Again, in Jeronimo, i. e. the first part of the Spanish Tragedy, 1605: “Now let your bloods be liberal as the sea.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1410 7Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder?—] What occasion for other, when those would serve his purpose? For he wanted a thunderbolt for Iago. Without question, Shakespeare wrote and pointed the line thus: Are there no stones in heaven? For what then serves the thunder?— i. e. Are there no bolts in heaven for this villain? for what purpose then serves the thunder, that instrument of his vengeance? Warburton. Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder?—This emendation of Dr. Warburton's is surely unnecessary. Othello does not want a thunderbolt for Iago. He only asks, if there are no lesser degrees of chastisement more proportioned to the guilt of mortals, ready to drop down on such villains as Iago, though Omnipotence withholds its thunder, as too noble an instrument for the punishment of crimes like his? The same thought occurs in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1609: “Is there no thunder left? or is't kept up “In stock, for heavier vengeance?” Shakespeare might however mean, does heaven reserve its thunder only to make a noise? has it no implements of mischief to punish as well as terrify? “&lblank; quum fulmina torques “Necquicquam horremus? cæcique in nubibus ignes “Terrificant animos, et inania murmura miscent?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1411 8And die in music, &c.] This, and the two former lines of the speech, are wanting in the first quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 1412 9&lblank; the ice-brook's temper;] In the first edition it is, Isebroke's temper. Thence corrupted to Ice-brook's.—Ebro's temper; the waters of that river of Spain are particularly famous for tempering of steel. The finest arms in the world are the Catalonian fusees. Pope. I believe the old reading changed to ice-brook is right. Steel is hardened by being put red hot into very cold water. Johnson. The particular name of the ice-brook may be determined by the following passages in Martial. It was undoubtedly the brook or rivulet called Salo (now Xalon), near Bilbilis in Celtiberia. In this the Spaniards plunged all their swords and other weapons while hot from the forge; and to the icy quality of the waters, they were indebted for their stubborn temper: Sævo Bilbilin optimam metallo Et ferro Plateam suo sonantem, Quam fluctu tenui sed inquieto Armorum Salo temperator ambit. Again, Quibus remissum corpus astringes brevi, Salone qui ferrum gelat. Again, Pugio, quem curvis signat brevis orbita venis,   Stridentem gelidis hunc Salo tinxit aquis. Again, in Justin, l. 44. “Præcipua his quidem ferri materia sed aqua ipsa terro violentior; quippe temperamento ejus ferrum acrius redditur; nec ullum apud eos telum probatur quod non aut in Bilbili fluvio aut Chalybe tingatur. Unde etiam Chalybes fluvii hujus finitimi appellati, fetroque. cæteris præstare dicuntur.” These parts of Spain have been at all times famous for the temper of their arms. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1266

Note return to page 1413 1&lblank; O ill-starr'd wench!] This, and the six preceding lines, are omitted in the first quarto. Wench originally signified only a young woman. Cassandra, in Whetstone's Promos, &c. 1578, says of herself; “Oh wretched wench, where may I first complayne?” Again, “Therefore, sweet wenche, helpe me to rue my woe.” The word is used without any dishonourable meaning in the Bible. “And a wench told him, &c.” And again, by Gawin Douglas, in his version of the Æneid: “&lblank; audetque viris concurrere virgo.” “This wensche stoutlye rencounter durst with men.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1414 2&lblank; towards his feet;—] To see if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven. Johnson.

Note return to page 1415 3For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.] The same thought has already occurred in Antony and Cleopatra: &lblank; 'Tis well thou'rt gone &lblank; If it be well to live. Steevens.

Note return to page 1416 4&lblank; in the practice &lblank;] In the snare, by the stratagem. Johnson.

Note return to page 1417 5&lblank; in the interim] The first copy has, in the nick. It was, I suppose, thought upon revisal, that nick was too familiar. Johnson.

Note return to page 1418 6Speak of me as I am; &lblank;] The first quarto reads, Speak of them as they are. The present reading, which is the reading of the folio, has more force. Johnson.

Note return to page 1419 7&lblank; of one, whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; &lblank;] I have restored Judian, from the elder quarto, as the genuine and more eligible reading. Mr. Pope thinks this was occasioned probably by the word tribe just after: I have many reasons to oppose this opinion. In the first place, the most ignorant Indian, I believe, is so far the reverse of the dunghill-cock in the fable, as to know the estimation of a pearl beyond that of a barley-corn. So that, in that respect, the thought itself would not be just. Then, if our author had designed to reflect on the ignorance of the Indian without any farther reproach, he would have called him rude, and not base. Again, I am persuaded, as my friend Mr. Warburton long ago observed, the phrase is not here literal, but metaphorical: and, by his pearl, our author very properly means a fine woman. But Mr. Pope objects farther to reading Judian, because, to make sense of this, we must pre-suppose some particular story of a Jew alluded to; which is much less obvious: but has Shakespeare never done this, but in this single instance? I am satisfied, in his Judian, he is alluding to Herod; who, in a fit of blind jealousy, threw away such a jewel of a wife as Mariamne was to him. What can be more parallel in circumstance, than the conduct of Herod and Othello? Nor was the story so little obvious, as Mr. Pope seems to imagine: for, in the year 1613, the lady Elizabeth Carew published a tragedy called Mariam, the Fair Queen of Jewry. I shall only add, that our author might write Judian, or Judean (if that should be alledged as any objection) instead of Judæan, with the same licence and change of accent, as, in his Anthony and Cleopatra, he shortens the second syllable of Euphrates in pronunciation: which was a liberty likewise taken by Spencer, of whom our author was a studious imitator. Theobald. Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away] The elder quarto reads Judian, and this is certainly right. And by the Judian is meant Herod, whose usage to Mariamne is so apposite to the speaker's case, that a more proper instance could not be thought of. Besides, he was the subject of a tragedy at that time, as appears from the words in Hamlet, where an ill player is described, “&lblank; to out-herod Herod.” The metaphorical term of a pearl for a fine woman, is so common as scarce to need examples. In Troilus and Cressida, a lover says of his mistress, “There she lies a pearl.”— And again, “Why she is a pearl, whose price,” &c. Warburton. Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe.] I cannot join with the leamed critics in conceiving this passage to refer either to the ignorance of the natives of India, in respect of pearls, or the well-known story of Herod and Mariamne. The poet might just as fairly be supposed to have alluded to that of Jeptha and his daughter. Othello, in detestation of what he had done, seems to compare himself to another person who had thrown away a thing of value, with some circumstances of the meanest villainy, which the epithet base seems to imply in its general sense, though it is sometimes used only for low or mean. The Indian could not properly be termed base in the former and most common sense, whose fault was ignorance, which brings its own excuse with it; and the crime of Herod surely deserves a more aggravated distinction. For though in every crime, great as well as small, there is a degree of baseness, yet the furiis agitatus amor, such as contributed to that of Herod, seems to ask a stronger word to characterize it; as there was spirit at least in what he did, though the spirit of a fiend, and the epithet base would better suit with petty larceny than royal guilt. Besides, the simile appears to me too apposite almost to be used on the occasion, and is little more than bringing the fact into comparison with itself. Each through jealousy had destroyed an innocent wife, circumstances so parallel, as hardly to admit of that variety which we generally find in one allusion, which is meant to illustrate another, and at the same time to appear as more than a superfluous ornament. Of a like kind of imperfection, there is an instance in Virgil, B. XI. where after Camilla and her attendants have been described as absolute Amazons; “At medias inter cædes exultat Amazon “Unum exerta latus pugnæ pharetrata Camilla. “At circum lectæ comites,” &c. we find them, nine lines after, compared to the Amazons themselves, to Hippolyta or Penthesilea, surrounded by their companions: “Quales Threiciæ, cum flumina Thermodontis “Pulsant, et pictis bellantur Amazones armis: “Seu circum Hypoliten, seu cum se martia curru “Penthesilea refert.” What is this but bringing a fact into comparison with itself? Neither do I believe the poet intended to make the present simile coincide with all the circumstances of Othello's situation, but merely with the single act of having basely (as he himself terms it) destroyed that on which he ought to have set a greater value. As the pearl may bear a literal as well as a metaphorical sense, I would rather choose to take it in the literal one, and receive Mr. Pope's rejected explanation, pre-supposing some story of a Jew alluded to, which might be well understood at that time, though now perhaps forgotten, or at least imperfectly remember'd. I have read in some book, as ancient as the time of Shakespeare, the following tale; though, at present, I am unable either to recollect the title of the piece, or the author's name. A Jew, who had been prisoner for many years in distant parts, brought with him at his return to Venice a great number of pearls, which he offered on the change among the merchants, and (one alone excepted) disposed of them to his satisfaction. On this pearl, which was the largest ever shewn at market, he had fixed an immoderate price, nor could be persuaded to make the least abatement. Many of the magnificos, as well as traders, offered him considerable sums for it, but he was resolute in his first demand. At last, after repeated and unsuccessful applications to individuals, he assembled the merchants of the city, by proclamation, to meet him on the Rialto, where he once more exposed it to sale on the former terms, but to no purpose. After having expatiated, for the last time, on the singular beauty and value of it, he threw it suddenly into the sea before them all. Though this anecdote may appear inconsistent with the avarice of a Jew, yet it sufficiently agrees with the spirit so remarkable at all times in the scatter'd remains of that vindictive nation. Shakespeare's seeming aversion to the Jews in general, and his constant desire to expose their avarice and baseness as often as he had an opportunity, may serve to strengthen my supposition; and as that nation, in his time, and since, has not been famous for crimes daring and conspicuous, but has rather contented itself to thrive by the meaner and more successful arts of baseness, there seems to be a particular propriety in the epithet. When Falstaff is justifying himself in Henry IV. he adds, “If what I have said be not true, I am a Jew, an Ebrew Jew,” i. e. one of the most suspected characters of the time. The liver of a Jew is an ingredient in the cauldron of Macbeth; and the vigilance for gain, which is described in Shylock, may afford us reason, to suppose the poet was alluding to a story like that already quoted. Richer than all his tribe, seems to point out the Jew again in a mercantile light; and may mean, that the pearl was richer than all the gems to be found among a set of men generally trading in them. Neither do I recollect that Othello mentions many things, but what he might fairly have been allowed to have had knowledge of in the course of his peregrinations. Of this kind are the similes of the Euxine sea flowing into the Propontick, and the Arabian trees dropping their gums. The rest of his speeches are more free from mythological and historical allusions, than almost any to be found in Shakespeare, for he is never quite clear from them; though in the design of this character he seems to have meant it for one who had spent a greater part of his life in the field, than in the cultivation of any other knowledge than what would be of use to him in his military capacity. It should be observed, that most of the flourishes merely ornamental were added after the first edition; and this is not the only proof to be met with, that the poet in his alterations sometimes forgot his original plan. The metaphorical term of a pearl for a fine woman, may, for aught I know, be very common; but in the instances Dr. Warburton has brought to prove it so, there are found circumstances that immediately shew a woman to have been meant. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “Her bed is India, there she lies a pearl. “Why she is a pearl whose price hath launch'd,” &c. In Othello's speech we find no such leading expression; and are therefore at liberty, I think, to take the passage in its literal meaning. Either we are partial to discoveries which we make for ourselves, or the spirit of controversy is contagious; for it usually happens that each possessor of an ancient copy of our author is led to assert the superiority of all such teadings as have not been exhibited in the notes, or received into the text of the last edition. On this account, our present republication (and more especially in the celebrated plays) affords a greater number of these diversities than were ever before obtruded on the public. A time however may arrive, when a complete body of variations being printed, our readers may luxuriate in an ample feast of thats and whiches; and thenceforward it may be prophecied, that all will unite in a wish that the selection had been made by an editor, rather than submitted to their own labour and sagacity. To this note should be subjoined (as an apology for many others which may not be thought to bring conviction with them) that the true sense of a passage has frequently remained undetermined, till repeated experiments have been tried on it; when one commentator, making a proper use of the errors of another, has at last explained it to universal satisfaction. When mistakes have such effects, who would regret having been mistaken, or be sorry to prove the means of directing others, by that affinity which a wrong reading or interpretation sometimes has to the right, though he has not been so lucky as to produce at once authorities which could not be questioned, or decisions to which nothing could be added? Steevens. I abide by the old text, “the base Judian.” Shakespeare seems to allude to Herod in the play of Mariamne: “I had but one inestimable jewel &lblank; “Yet I in suddaine choler cast it downe, “And dasht it all to pieces.”— Farmer.

Note return to page 1420 8Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk] I am told that it is immediate death for a Christian to strike a Turk in Aleppo. Othello is boasting of his own audacity. Anon.

Note return to page 1421 9Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.] So, in the Second Part of Marlow's Tamburlaine, 1590: “Yet le me kisse my lord before I dye, “And let me dye with kissing of my lord.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1422 1O Spartan dog!] The dogs of Spartan race were reckoned among those of the most fierce and savage kind. Hanmer.9Q1268

Note return to page 1423 2&lblank; To you, lord governor, Remains the censure of this hellish villain;] Rymer, who had neither vigour of imagination to make a poet, nor strength of judgment to make a critic, as appears from his Edgar, and his Remarks on Shakespeare, had yet just enough to play the buffoon and caviller. His criticism on the Poets of the last age, with only a mixture of trite remarks, transcribed from the French commentators on Aristotle, are one continued heap of ignorance and insolence. Almost the only remark on Shakespeare, which, I think, deserves an answer, is upon Iago's character, which he thus censures. To entertain the audience (says he) with something new and surprising, against common sense and nature, he would pass upon us a close, dissembling, false, ungrateful rascal, instead of an open-hearted, frank, plain-dealing soldier, a character constantly worn by them for some thousands of years in the world. This hath the appearance of sense, being founded on that rule of Nature and Aristotle, that each character should have manners convenient to the age, sex, and condition. Ætatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores, &c. says Horace. But how has our critic applied it? According to this rule it is confessed, that a soldier should be brave, generous, and a man of honour. This is to be his dramatic character. But either one or more of any order may be brought in. If only one, then the character of the order takes its denomination from the manners of that one. Had therefore the only soldier in this play been Iago, the rule had been transgressed, and Rymer's censure well founded. For then this eternal villain must have given the character of the soldiery; which had been unjust and unnatural. But if a number of the same order be represented, then the character of the order is taken from the manners of the majority; and this, according to nature and common sense. Now in this play there are many of the order of the soldiery; and all, excepting Iago, represented as open, generous, and brave. From these the soldier's character is to be taken; and not from Iago, who is brought as an exception to it, unless it be unnatural to suppose there could be an exception; or that a villain ever insinuated himself into that corps. And thus Shakespeare stands clear of this impertinent criticism. Warburton.

Note return to page 1424 3&lblank; the censure.] i. e. the sentence. So, in Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606: “Eliosto and Cleodora were astonished at such a hard censure, and went to Limbo most willingly.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1425 4This heavy act with heavy heart relate.] The beauties of this play impress themselves so strongly upon the attention of the reader, that they can draw no aid from critical illustration. The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affection, inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate in his revenge; the cool malignity of Iago, silent in his resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his interest and his vengeance; the soft simplicity of Desdemona, confident of merit, and conscious of innocence, her artless perseverance in her suit, and her slowness to suspect that she can be suspected, are such proofs of Shakespeare's skill in human nature, as, I suppose, it is vain to seek in any modern writer. The gradual progress which Iago makes in the Moor's conviction, and the circumstances which he employs to inflame him, are so artfully natural, that, though it will perhaps not be said of him as he says of himself, that he is a man not easily jealous, yet we cannot but pity him, when at last we find him perplexed in the extreme. There is always danger, lest wickedness, conjoined with abilities, should steal upon esteem, though it misses of approbation; but the character of Iago is so conducted, that he is from the first scene to the last hated and despised. Even the inferior characters of this play would be very conspicuous in any other piece, not only for their justness, but their strength. Cassio is brave, benevolent, and honest, ruined only by his want of stubbornness to resist an infidious invitation. Roderigo's suspicious credulity, and impatient submission to the cheats which he sees practised upon him, and which by persuasion he suffers to be repeated, exhibit a strong picture of a weak mind betrayed by unlawful desires to a false friend; and the virtue of Æmilia is such as we often find worn loosely, but not cast off, easy to commit small crimes, but quickened an quickened and alarmed at atrocious villainies. The scenes from the beginning to the end are busy, varied by happy interchanges, and regularly promoting the progression of the story; and the narrative in the end, though it tells but what is known already, yet is necessary to produce the death of Othello. Had the scene opened in Cyprus, and the preceding incidents been occasionally related, there had been little wanting to a drama of the most exact and scrupulous regularity. Johnson.

Note return to page 1426 10910002 Supplemental Note on Hamlet, p. 263 and 420. The rugged Pyrrhus, &c.] Mr. Malone once observed to me, that a late editor supposed the speech uttered by the Player before Hamlet, to have been taken from an ancient drama, entitled “Dido Queen of Carthage.” I had not then the means of justifying confuting his remark, the piece alluded to having escaped the hands of the most liberal and industrious collectors of such curiosities. Since, however, our last sheet was printed off, I have met with this performance, and am therefore at liberty to pronounce that it did not furnish our Author with more than a general hint for his description of the death of Priam, &c: unless, with reference to &lblank; the whiff and wind of his fell sword The unnerved father falls, &lblank; we read, ver. 23: And with the wind thereof the king fell down; and can make out a resemblance between So as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood; and ver. 32: So leaning on his sword, he stood stone still. The greater part of the following lines are surely more ridiculous in themselves, than even Shakespeare's happiest vein of burlesque or parody could have made them: “At last came Pirrhus fell and full of ire, “His harnesse dropping bloud, and on his speare “The mangled head of Priams yongest sonne, “And after him his band of Mirmidons, “With balles of wilde fire in their murdering pawes, “Which made the funerall flame that burnt faire Troy: “All which hemd me about, crying, this is he. “Dido. Ah, how could poore Æneas scape their hands? “Æn. My mother Venus jealous of my health, “Convaid me from their crooked nets and bands: “So I escapt the furious Pirrhus wrath: “Who then ran to the pallace of the King, “And at Jove's Altar finding Priamus, “About whose withered necke hung Hecuba, “Foulding his hand in hers, and joyntly both “Beating their breasts and falling on the ground, “He with his faulchions point raisde up at once; “And with Megeras eyes stared in their face, “Threatning a thousand deaths at every glaunce. “To whom the aged king thus trembling spoke: &c.— “Not mov'd at all, but smiling at his teares, “This butcher, whil'st his hands were yet held up. “Treading upon his breast, strooke off his hands. “Dido. O end Æneas, I can heare no more. “Æn. At which the franticke queene leapt on his face, “And in his eyelids hanging by the nayles, “A little while prolong'd her husband's life: “At last the souldiers puld her by the heeles, “And swong her howling in the emptie ayre, “Which sent an eccho to the wounded king: “Whereat he lifted up his bedred lims, “And would have grappeld with Achilles sonne, “Forgetting both his want of strength and hands; “Which he disdaining, whiskt his sword about, 23. “And with the wound thereof the king fell downe: “Then from the navell to the throat at once, “He ript old Priam; at whose latter gaspe “Jove's marble statue gan to bend the brow, “As lothing Pirrhus for this wicked act: “Yet he undaunted tooke his fathers flagge, “And dipt it in the old kings chill cold bloud, “And then in triumph ran into the streetes, “Through which he could not passe for slaughtred men: 32. “So leaning on his sword he stood stone still, “Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt.” Act. 2. The exact title of the Play from which these lines are copied, is as follows: The &break; Tragedie of Dido &break; Queen of Carthage. &break; Played by the Children of her &break; Maiesties Chappell. &break; Written by Christopher Marlowe, and &break; Thomas Nash. Gent. &break; —Actors &break; Jupiter. &break; Ganimed. &break; Venus. &break; Cupid. &break; Juno. &break; Mercurie, or &break; Hermes. &break; Æneas. &break; Ascanius. &break; Dido. &break; Anna.—Achates. &break; Ilioneus. &break; Iarbas. &break; Cloanthes. &break; Sergestus. &break; At London, &break; Printed, by the Widdowe Orwin, for Thomas Woodcocke, and &break; are to be solde at his shop, in Paules Church-yeard, at &break; the signe of the blacke Beare. 1594. &break; In the Tempest, p. 43. I had likewise imagined some allusion to this piece; but, on reading it over, have discovered not the slightest grounds for my supposition. In Macbeth, p. 448. [&lblank; unseam'd him from the nave to the chops] I have idly strove to support Dr. Warburton, who reads nape instead of nave; the latter being justified by a passage quoted above, from Dido: Then from the navel to the throat, at once He ript old Priam. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q1269

Note return to page 1427 10910003 Add the following account of the descendants of our great poet, as a note to the name of John Hall. Vol. 1. Preface, page 212. This descent appears from the old writings in the possession of that family. I am indebted for it to the kindness of the Rev. Mr. Whalley, the learned editor of the Works of Ben Jonson.

Note return to page 1428 10910004 Add to the List of Plays altered from Shakspeare, p. 243. Pyramus and Thisbe, a Comic Masque, by Richard Leveridge, performed at Lincoln's Inn Fields. 8vo. 1716.

Note return to page 1429 10910005 Add page 244. A Cure for a Scold, a Ballad Opera, by James Worsdale, 8vo. Taken from the Taming of a Shrew. 12mo. 1738.

Note return to page 1430 10910006 Add to the List of Detached Pieces of Criticism on Shakspeare, &c. page 251. Notes and Various Readings on Shakspeare, Part the First, &c. with a General Glossary. By Edward Capell, 4to. 1775.

Note return to page 1431 10910007 Merry Wives of Windsor, page 357. Let the sky rain potatoes,—hail kissing comfits, and snow eringoes: let there come a tempest of provocation.] On this passage add the following note. Holinshed informs us, that in the year 1583, for the entertainment of prince Alasco, was performed “a verie statelie tragedie named Dido, wherein the queen's banket (with Æneas narration of the destruction of Troie) was livelie described in a marchpaine patterne,—the tempest wherein it hailed small confects, rained rosewater, and snew an artificiall kind of snow, all strange, marvellous and abundant.” On this circumstance very probably Shakspeare was thinking, when he put the words quoted above into the mouth of Falstaff. Steevens.

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