Note return to page 1 1The persons were first enumerated by Rowe.

Note return to page 2 2Parolles.] I suppose we should write this name Paroles, i. e. a creature made up of empty words. Steevens.

Note return to page 3 3Violenta only enters once, and then she neither speaks, nor is spoken to. Steevens.

Note return to page 4 4The story of All's Well that Ends Well, or, as I suppose it to have been sometimes called, Love's Labour Wonne, is originally indeed the property of Boccace, but it came immediately to Shakespeare from Painter's Gilletta of Narbon, in the first vol. of the Palace of Pleasure, 4to, 1566, p. 88. Farmer. Shakespeare is indebted to the novel only for a few leading circumstances in the graver parts of the piece. The comic business appears to be entirely of his own formation. Steevens.

Note return to page 5 5In delivering my son from me, &lblank;] To deliver from, in the sense of giving up, is not English. Shakespeare wrote, in dissevering my son from me—The following words, too,—I bury a second husband—demand this reading. For to dissever implies a violent divorce; and therefore might be compared to the burying a husband; which delivering does not. Warburton. Of this change I see no need: the present reading is clear, and, perhaps, as proper as that which the great commentator would substitute; for the king dissevers her son from her, she only delivers him. Johnson.

Note return to page 6 6&lblank; in ward, &lblank;] Under his particular care, as my guardian, till I come to age. It is now almost forgotten in England, that the heirs of great fortunes were the king's wards. Whether the same practice prevailed in France, it is of no great use to enquire, for Shakespeare gives to all nations the manners of England. Johnson. Howell's fifteenth letter acquaints us that the province of Normandy was subject to wardships, and no other part of France besides; but the supposition of the contrary furnished Shakespeare with a reason why the king compelled Rousillon to marry Helen. Tollet. &lblank; in ward, &lblank;] The prerogative of wardship is a branch of the feudal law, and may as well be supposed to be incorporated with the constitution of France, as it was with that of England, till the reign of Charles II. Sir J. Hawkins.

Note return to page 7 7&lblank; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance.] An opposition of terms is visibly designed in this sentence; tho' the opposition is not so visible, as the terms now stand. Wanted and abundance are the opposites to one another; but how is lack a contrast to stir up! The addition of a single letter gives it, and the very sense requires it. Read slack it. Warburton.

Note return to page 8 8This young gentlewoman had a father (O, that had! how sad a passage 'tis!] Lafeu was speaking of the king's desperate condition: which makes the countess recall to mind the deceased Gerard de Narbon, who, she thinks could have cured him. But in using the word had, which implied his death, she stops in the middle of her sentence, and makes a reflection upon it, which, according to the present reading, is unintelligible. We must therefore believe Shakespeare wrote (O that had! how sad a presage 'tis) i. e. a presage that the king must now expect no cure, since so skilful a person was himself forced to submit to a malignant distemper. Warburton. This emendation is ingenious, perhaps preferable to the present reading, yet since passage may be fairly enough explained, I have left it in the text. Passage is any thing that passes, so we now say, a passage of an author, and we said about a century ago, the passages of a reign. When the countess mentions Helena's loss of a father, she recollects her own loss of a husband, and stops to observe how heavily that word had passes through her mind. Johnson. Thus Shakespeare himself. See The Comedy of Errors, act III. sc. i: “Now in the stirring passage of the day.” So, in The Gamester, by Shirley, 1637: “I'll not be witness of your passages myself.” i. e. of what passes between you. Again, in A Woman's a Weathercock, 1612: “&lblank; never lov'd these prying listening men “That ask of other's states and passages.” Again: “I knew the passages 'twixt her and Scudamore.” Again, in the Dumb Knight, 1633: “&lblank; have beheld “Your vile and most lascivious passages.” Again, in the English Intelligencer, a tragi-comedy, 1641: “&lblank; two philosophers that jeer and weep at the passages of the world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 9 9&lblank; where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and atchieves her goodness.] This obscure encomium is made still more obscure by a slight corruption of the text. Let us explain the passage as it lies. By virtuous qualities are meant qualities of good breeding and erudition; in the same sense that the Italians say, qualità virtuosa; and not moral ones. On this account it is, she says, that, in an ill mind, these virtuous qualities are virtues and traitors too: i. e. the advantages of education enable an ill mind to go further in wickedness than it could have done without them. But, says the countess, in her they are the better for their simpleness. But simpleness is the same with what is called honesty, immediately after; which cannot be predicated of the qualities of education. We must certainly read—her simpleness, and then the sentence is properly concluded. The countess had said, that virtuous qualities are the worse for an unclean mind, but concludes that Helen's are the better for her simpleness, i. e. her clean, pure mind. She then sums up the character, she had before given in detail, in these words, she derives her honesty, and atchieves her goodness, i. e. she derives her honesty, her simpleness, her moral character, from her father and her ancestors; but she atchieves or wins her goodness, her virtue, or her qualities of good breeding and erudition, by her own pains and labour. Warburton. This is likewise a plausible but unnecessary alteration. Her virtues are the better for their simpleness, that is, her excellencies are the better because they are artless and open, without fraud, without design. The learned commentator has well explained virtues, but has not, I think, reached the force of the word traitors, and therefore has not shewn the full extent of Shakespeare's masterly observation. Virtues in an unclean mind are virtues and traitors too. Estimable and useful qualities, joined with evil disposition, give that evil disposition power over others, who, by admiring the virtue, are betrayed to the malevolence. The Tatler, mentioning the sharpers of his time, observes, that some of them are men of such elegance and knowledge, that a young man who falls into their way, is betrayed as much by his judgment as his passions. Johnson. Virtue, and virtuous, as I am told, still keep this signification in the north, and mean ingenuity and ingenious. Of this sense perhaps an instance occurs in the eighth book of Chapman's Version of the Iliad: “Then will I to Olympus' top our vertuous engine bind, “And by it every thing shall hang, &c.” Again, in Marlowe's Tamburlaine, p. 1. 1590: “If these had made one poem's period, “And all combin'd in beauties worthynesse, “Yet should there hover in their restlesse heads “One thought, one grace, one wonder at the least, “Which into words no vertue can digest.” Steevens.

Note return to page 10 1&lblank; all livelihood &lblank;] i. e. all appearance of life. Steevens.

Note return to page 11 2If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.] This seems very obscure; but the addition of a negative perfectly dispels all the mist. If the living be not enemy, &c. excessive grief is an enemy to the living, says Lafeu: Yes, replies the countess; and if the living be not enemy to the grief, [i. e. strive to conquer it,] the excess makes it soon mortal. Warburton. This emendation I had once admitted into the text, but restored the old reading, because I think it capable of an easy explication. Lafeu says, excessive grief is the enemy of the living: the countess replies, If the living be an enemy to grief, the excess soon makes it mortal: that is, if the living do not indulge grief, grief destroys itself by its own excess. By the word mortal I understand that which dies, and Dr. Warburton, that which destroys. I think that my interpretation gives a sentence more acute and more refined. Let the reader judge. Johnson.

Note return to page 12 3That thee may furnish, &lblank;] That may help thee with more and better qualifications. Johnson.

Note return to page 13 4The best wishes, &c.] That is, may you be mistress of your wishes, and have power to bring them to effect. Johnson.

Note return to page 14 5&lblank; these great tears &lblank;] The tears which the king and countess shed for him. Johnson.

Note return to page 15 6In his bright radiance &c.] I cannot be united with him and move in the same sphere, but must be comforted at a distance by the radiance that shoots on all sides from him. Johnson. Milton, b. x: “&lblank; from his radiant seat he rose “Of high collateral glory.” Steevens.

Note return to page 16 7&lblank; trick of his sweet favour,] So, in King John: “he hath a trick of Cœur de Lion's face.” Trick seems to be some peculiarity or feature. Johnson. Trick is an expression taken from drawing, and is so explained in another place. The present instance explains itself:   &lblank; to sit and draw His arched brows, &c.   &lblank; and trick of his sweet favour. Trick, however, may mean peculiarity. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0394

Note return to page 17 8Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.] Cold for naked; as superfluous for over-cloathed. This makes the propriety of the antithesis. Warburton.

Note return to page 18 9And you monarch.] Perhaps here is some allusion designed to Monarcho, a ridiculous fantastical character of the age of Shakespeare. Concerning this person, see the notes on Love's Labour Lost, act IV. sc. i. Steevens.

Note return to page 19 1&lblank; stain of soldier &lblank;] Stain for colour. Parolles was in red, as appears from his being afterwards called red-tail'd humble-bee. Warburton. It does not appear from either of these expressions, that Parolles was entirely drest in red. Shakespeare writes only some stain of soldier, meaning in one sense, that he had red breeches on, (which is sufficiently evident from calling him afterwards red-tailed humble-bee,) and in another, that he was a disgrace to soldiery. Stain is used in an adverse sense by Shakespeare, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it.” Steevens. Stain rather for what we now say tincture, some qualities, at least superficial, of a soldier. Johnson.

Note return to page 20 2Loss of virginity is rational increase; &lblank;] I believe we should read, national. Tyrwhitt. Rational increase may mean the regular increase by which rational beings are propagated. Steevens.

Note return to page 21 3He, that hangs himself, is a virgin:] But why is he that hangs himself a virgin? Surely, not for the reason that follows; Virginity murders itself. For though every virgin be a suicide, yet every suicide is not a virgin. A word or two are dropt, which introduced a comparison in this place; and Shakespeare wrote it thus: as he, that hangs himself, so is a virgin. And then it follows naturally, virginity murders itself. By this emendation, the Oxford editor was enabled to alter the text thus: He that hangs himself is like a virgin. And this is his usual way of becoming a critick at a cheap expence. Warburton. I believe most readers will spare both the emendations, which I do not think much worth a claim or a contest. The old reading is more spritely and equally just. Johnson.

Note return to page 22 4&lblank; inhibited sin &lblank;] i. e. forbidden. So, in Othello: “&lblank; a practiser “Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.” So the first folio. Theobald reads prohibited. Steevens.

Note return to page 23 5&lblank; within ten years it will make itself two, which is goodly increase; &lblank;] I think we should either read:—within ten years it will make itself ten; or,—within two years it will make itself two. Instead of two, Mr. Tollet would read twelve. Steevens.

Note return to page 24 6&lblank; Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes.] Parolles, in answer to the question, how one shall lose virginity to her own liking? plays upon the word liking, and says, she must do ill, for virginity, to be so lost, must like him that likes not virginity. Johnson.

Note return to page 25 7&lblank; which wear not now: &lblank;] Thus the old copy, and rightly. Shakespeare often uses the active for the passive. The modern editors read, “which we wear not now.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 26 8&lblank; Your date is better &lblank;] Here is a quibble on the word date, which means both age, and a kind of candied fruit much used in our author's time. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.” The same quibble occurs in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; and then to be bak'd with no date in the pye, for then the man's date is out.” Steevens.

Note return to page 27 9For yet, as it stood before, sir Thomas Hanmer reads yes. Johnson.

Note return to page 28 1Not my virginity yet.] This whole speech is abrupt, unconnected, and obscure. Dr. Warburton thinks much of it supposititious. I would be glad to think so of the whole, for a commentator naturally wishes to reject what he cannot understand. Something, which should connect Helena's words with those of Parolles, seems to be wanting. Hanmer has made a fair attempt by reading: Not my virginity yet—You're for the court, There shall your master, &c. Some such clause has, I think, dropped out, but still the first words want connection. Perhaps Parolles, going away after his harangue, said, will you any thing with me? to which Helen may reply.—I know not what to do with the passage. Johnson. I do not perceive so great a want of connection as my predecessors have apprehended; nor is that connection always to be sought for, in so careless a writer as ours, from the thought immediately preceding the reply of the speaker. Parolles has been laughing at the unprofitableness of virginity, especially when it grows ancient, and compares it to withered fruit. Helena, properly enough replies, that hers is not yet in that state; but that in the enjoyment of her, his master should find the gratification of all his most romantic wishes. What Dr. Warburton says afterwards, is said at random, as all positive declarations of the same kind must of necessity be. Were I to propose any change, I would read should instead of shall. It does not however appear that this rapturous effusion of Helena was designed to be intelligible to Parolles. Its obscurity, therefore, may be its merit. It sufficiently explains what is passing in the mind of the speaker, to every one but him to whom she does not mean to explain it. Steevens. Perhaps we should read: “Will you any thing with us?” i. e. will you send any thing with us to court? to which Helena's answer would be proper enough— “Not my virginity yet.” A similar phrase occurs in Twelfth Night, act III. sc. i: “You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 29 2A phœnix, captain, &c.] The eight lines following friend, I am persuaded is the nonsense of some foolish conceited player. What put it into his head was Helen's saying, as it should be read for the future: There shall your master have a thousand loves; A mother, and a mistress, and a friend. I know not what he shall—God send him well. Where the fellow, finding a thousand loves spoken of, and only three reckoned up, namely, a mother's, a mistress's, and a friend's, (which, by the way, were all a judicious writer could mention; for there are but these three species of love in nature) he would help out the number, by the intermediate nonsense: and, because they were yet too few, he pieces out his loves with enmities, and makes of the whole such finished nonsense as is never heard out of Bedlam. Warburton.

Note return to page 30 3&lblank; a traitress, &lblank;] It seems that traitress was in that age a term of endearment, for when Lafeu introduces Helena to the king, he says, You are like a traytor, but such traytors his majesty does not much fear. Johnson. I cannot conceive that traitress (spoken seriously) was in any age a term of endearment. From the present passage, we might as well suppose enemy (in the last line but one) to be a term of endearment. In the other passage quoted, Lafeu is plainly speaking ironically. Tyrwhitt. Traditora, a traitress, in the Italian language, is generally used as a term of endearment. The meaning of Helen is, that she shall prove every thing to Bertram. Our ancient writers delighted in catalogues, and always characterize love by contrarieties. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0395

Note return to page 31 4&lblank; christendoms,] This word, which signifies the collective body of christianity, every place where the christian religion is embraced, is surely used with much licence on this occasion. Steevens.

Note return to page 32 5And shew what we alone must think; &lblank;] And shew by realities what we now must only think. Johnson.

Note return to page 33 6&lblank; is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.] The integrity of the metaphor directs us to Shakespeare's true reading; which, doubtless, was—a good ming, i. e. mixture, composition; a word common to Shakespeare and the writers of this age, and taken from the texture of cloth. The M was turned the wrong way at press, and from thence came the blunder. Warburton. This conjecture I could wish to see better proved. This common word ming I have never found. The first edition of this play exhibits wing without a capital: yet, I confess, that a virtue of a good wing is an expression that I cannot understand, unless by a metaphor taken from falconry, it may mean, a virtue that will fly high, and in the stile of Hotspur, “Pluck honour from the moon.” Johnson. Mr. Edwards is of opinion, that a virtue of a good wing refers to his nimbleness or fleetness in running away. The phrase, however, is taken from falconry, as may appear from the following passage in Marston's Fawne, 1606: “&lblank; I love my horse after a journeying easiness, as he is easy in journeying; my hawk for the goodness of his wing, &c.” Or it may be taken from dress: So, in Every Man out of his Humour: “I would have mine such a suit without a difference; such stuff, such a wing, such a sleeve, &c.” Mr. Tollet observes, that a good wing signifies a strong wing in lord Bacon's Natural History, experiment 886: “Certainly many birds of a good wing (as kites and the like) would bear up a good weight as they fly.” There is, however, such a verb as ming. It is used by Tho. Drant, in his Translation of one of the Epistles of Horace: “He beares the bell in all respects who good with sweete doth minge.” Again, ibid: “She carves it fyne, and mings it thicke, &c.” And again, by sir A. Gorges, in his Translation of Lucan, 1614: “&lblank; which never mings “With other stream, &c.” and often by Chaucer. Steevens. The reading of the old copy is supported by a passage in K. Hen. V. in which we meet with a similar expression: “Though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0396

Note return to page 34 7What power is it, which mounts my love so high; That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?] She means, by what influence is my love directed to a person so much above me? why am I made to discern excellence, and left to long after it, without the food of hope? Johnson.

Note return to page 35 8The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things. Impossible be strange attempts, to those That weigh their pain in sense; and do suppose, What hath been, &lblank;] All these four lines are obscure, and, I believe, corrupt; I shall propose an emendation; which those who can explain the present reading, are at liberty to reject: Through mightiest space in fortune nature brings Likes to join likes, and kiss like native things. That is, nature brings like qualities and dispositions to meet through any distance that fortune may have set between them; she joins them and makes them kiss like things born together. The next lines I read with Hanmer: Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pain in sense, and do suppose What ha'n't been, cannot be. New attempts seem impossible to those who estimate their labour or enterprises by sense, and believe that nothing can be but what they see before them. Johnson. Shakespeare uses one of these contested phrases in a different sense, in Julius Cæsar: “And sell the mighty space of our large honours “For so much trash as might be grasped thus.” I have offered this instance for the use of any succeeding commentator who can apply it to the passage before us. Part of the same thought is less ambiguously express'd in Timon: “That solder'st close impossibilities, “And mak'st them kiss. &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 36 9&lblank; Senoys &lblank;] The Sanesi, as they are term'd by Boccace. Painter, who translates him, calls them Senois. They were the people of a small republick, of which the capital was Sienna. The Florentines were at perpetual variance with them. Steevens.

Note return to page 37 1&lblank; Rousillon, &lblank;] The old copy reads Rosignoll. Steevens.

Note return to page 38 2He had the wit, which I can well observe To-day in our young lords; but they may jest, Till their own scorn return to them unnoted, Ere they can hide their levity in honour.] i. e. Ere their titles can cover the levity of their behaviour, and make it pass for desert. The Oxford editor, not understanding this, alters the line to Ere they can vye their levity with his honour. Warburton. I believe honour is not dignity of birth or rank, but acquired reputation: Your father, says the king, had the same airy flights of satirical wit, with the young lords of the present time, but they do not what he did, hide their unnoted levity in honour, cover petty faults with great merit. This is an excellent observation. Jocose follies, and slight offences are only allowed by mankind in him that overpowers them by great qualities. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0398 A passage in the second act of the Merry Wives of Windsor, may serve to shew, that Hanmer's change is needless: “&lblank; hiding mine honour in my necessity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 39 3So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, His equal had awak'd them; &lblank;] This passage is so very incorrectly pointed, that the author's meaning is lost. As the text and stops are reformed, these are most beautiful lines, and the sense is this—“He had no contempt or bitterness; if he had any thing that look'd like pride or sharpness, (of which qualities contempt and bitterness are the excesses,) his equal had awaked them, not his inferior: to whom he scorn'd to discover any thing that bore the shadow of pride or sharpness.” Warburton. The original edition reads the first line thus: So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness The sense is the same. Nor was used without reduplication. So, in Measure for Measure: “More nor less to others paying, “Than by self-offences weighing.” The old text needs to be explained. He was so like a courtier, that there was in his dignity of manner nothing contemptuous, and in his keenness of wit nothing bitter. If bitterness or contemptuousness ever appeared, they had been awakened by some injury, not of a man below him, but of his equal. This is the complete image of a well bred man, and somewhat like this Voltaire has exhibited his hero Lewis XIV. Johnson.

Note return to page 40 4His tongue obeyed his hand: &lblank;] We should read: His tongue obeyed the hand. That is, the hand of his honour's clock, shewing the true minute when exceptions had him speak. Johnson. His is put for its; so, in Othello: “&lblank; her motion “Blush'd at herself,”—instead of itself. Steevens.

Note return to page 41 5He us'd as creatures of another place;] i. e. He made allowances for their conduct, and bore from them what he would not from one of his own rank. The Oxford editor, not understanding the sense, has altered another place, to a brother-race. Warburton.

Note return to page 42 6Making them proud of his humility, In their poor praise, he humbled &lblank;] But why were they proud of his humility? It should be read and pointed thus: &lblank; Making them proud; and his humility, In their poor praise, he humbled &lblank; i. e. by condescending to stoop to his inferiors, he exalted them and made them proud; and, in the gracious receiving their poor praise, he humbled even his humility. The sentiment is fine. Warburton. Every man has seen the mean too often proud of the humility of the great, and perhaps the great may sometimes be humbled in the praises of the mean, of those who commend them without conviction or discernment: this, however, is not so common; the mean are found more frequently than the great. Johnson.

Note return to page 43 7So in approof lives not his epitaph, As in your royal speech.] Epitaph for character. Warburton. I should wish to read: Approof so lives not in his epitaph, As in your royal speech. Approof is approbation. If I should allow Dr. Warburton's interpretation of Epitaph, which is more than can be reasonably exposted, I can yet find no sense in the present reading. Johnson. We might, by a slight transposition, read: So his approof lives not in epitaph. Approof certainly means approbation. So, in Cinthia's Revenge, 1013: “A man so absolute in my approof, “That nature hath reserv'd small dignity “That he enjoys not.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “Either of condemnation or approof.” Steevens. Perhaps the meaning is this: His epitaph or inscription on his tomb is not so much in approbation or commendation of him, as is your royal speech. Tollet.

Note return to page 44 8&lblank; whose judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; &lblank;] Who have no other use of their faculties, than to invent new modes of dress. Johnson. I have a suspicion that Shakespeare wrote—meer feathers of their garments; i. e. whose judgments are meerly parts (and insignificant parts) of their dress, worn and laid aside, as feathers are, from the meer love of novelty and change. He goes on to say, that they are even less constant in their judgments than in their dress: &lblank; their constancies Expire before their fashions. Tyrwhitt. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0399

Note return to page 45 9&lblank; Steward, and Clown.] A Clown in Shakespeare is commonly taken for a licensed jester, or domestick fool. We are not to wonder that we find this character often in his plays, since fools were, at that time, maintained in all great families, to keep up merriment in the house. In the picture of sir Thomas More's family, by Hans Holbein, the only servant represented is Patison the fool. This is a proof of the familiarity to which they were admitted, not by the great only, but the wise. In some plays, a servant, or a rustic, of remarkable petulance and freedom of speech, is likewise called a clown. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0400 This dialogue, or that in Twelfth Night, between Olivia and the Clown, seems to have been particularly censured by Cartwright, in one of the copies of verses prefixed to the works of Beaumont and Fletcher. “Shakespeare to thee was dull, whose best jest lies “I' th' lady's questions, and fool's replies; “Old fashion'd wit, which walk'd from town to town “In trunk hose, which our fathers call'd the Clown.” In the MS. register of lord Stanhope of Harrington, treasurer of the chamber to king James I. from 1613 to 1616, are the following entries: “Tom Derry, his majesty's fool, at 2 s. per diem, —1615. Paid John Mawe, for the diet and lodging of Thomas Derrie, her majesty's jester, for 13 weeks, 10 l. 18 s. 6 d.—1616. Steevens.

Note return to page 46 1&lblank; to even your content, &lblank;] To act up to your desires, Johnson.

Note return to page 47 2&lblank; you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.] Well, but if he had folly to commit them, he neither wanted knavery, nor any thing else, sure, to make them his own? This nonsense should be read, To make such knaveries yare; nimble, dextrous. i. e. Though you be fool enough to commit knaveries, yet you have quickness enough to commit them dextrously: for this observation was to let us into his character. But now, though this be set right, and, I dare say, in Shakespeare's own words, yet the former part of the sentence will still be inaccurate—you lack not folly to commit them. Them, what? the sense requires knaveries, but the antecedent referred to, is complaints. But this was certainly a negligence of Shakespeare's, and therefore to be left as we find it. And the reader, who cannot see that this is an inaccuracy which the author might well commit, and the other what he never could, has either read Shakespeare very little, or greatly mispent his pains. The principal office of a critick is to distinguish between those two things. But 'tis that branch of criticism which no precepts can teach the writer to discharge, or the reader to judge of. Warburton. After premising that the accusative, them, refers to the precedent word, complaints, and that this by a metonymy of the effect for the cause, stands for the freaks which occasioned those complaints, the sense will be extremely clear. You are fool enough to commit those irregularities you are charged with, and yet not so much fool neither, as to discredit the accusation by any defect in your ability. Revisal.

Note return to page 48 3&lblank; to go to the world, &lblank;] This phrase has already occurred in Much Ado about Nothing, and signifies to be married: and thus, in As you like It, Audrey says: “&lblank; it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 49 4Clo. You are shallow, madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me which I am a weary of. &lblank;] This last speech, I think, should be read thus: You are shallow, madam; my great friends; &lblank; Tyrwhitt. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0401 The meaning seems to be, you are not deeply skilled in the character or offices of great friends. Johnson.9Q0402

Note return to page 50 5&lblank; that ears my land, &lblank;] To ear is to plough. So, in Anthony and Cleopatra: “Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound “With keels of every kind.” Steevens.

Note return to page 51 6A prophet, I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way:] It is a superstition, which has run through all ages and people, that natural fools have something in them of divinity. On which account they were esteemed sacred: travellers tell us in what esteem the Turks now hold them; nor had they less honour paid them heretofore in France, as appears from the old word bênet, for a natural fool. Hence it was that Pantagruel, in Rabelais, advised Panurge to go and consult the fool Triboulet as an oracle; which gives occasion to a satirical stroke upon the privy council of Francis the first—Par l'avis, conseil, prediction des fols vos sçavez quants princes, &c. ont esté conservez, &c.—The phrase—speak the truth the next way, means directly; as they do who are only the instruments or canals of others; such as inspired persons were supposed to be. Warburton. Next way, is nearest way. So, in K. Hen. IV. Part I: “'Tis the next way to turn taylor, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 52 7&lblank; sings by kind.] I find something like two of the lines of this ballad in John Grange's Garden, 1577: “Content yourself as well as I, let reason rule your minde, “As cuckoldes come by destinie, so cuckowes sing by kinde.” Steevens.

Note return to page 53 8Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, Why the Grecians sacked Troy? Fond done, fond done; Was this king Priam's joy.] This is a stanza of an old ballad, out of which a word or two are dropt, equally necessary to make the sense and the alternate rhime. For it was not Helen, who was king Priam's joy, but Paris. The third line therefore should be read thus: Fond done, fond done, for Paris, he. Warburton. If this be a stanza taken from any ancient ballad, it will probably in time be found entire, and then the restoration may be made with authority. Steevens.

Note return to page 54 9&lblank; fond done, is foolishly done. So, in the Merchant of Venice— “Jailer, why art thou so fond “To let this man abroad.” Steevens.

Note return to page 55 1With that she sighed as she stood,] At the end of the line of which this is a repetition, we find added in Italic characters the word bis, denoting, I suppose, the necessity of its being repeated. The corresponding line was twice printed, as it is here inserted, from the ancient and only authentic copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 56 2Among nine bad if one be good, There's yet one good in ten.] This second stanza of the ballad is turned to a joke upon the women: a confession, that there was one good in ten. Whereon the Countess observed, that he corrupted the song, which shews the song said, Nine good in ten. If one be bad amongst nine good, There's but one bad in ten. This relates to the ten sons of Priam, who all behaved themselves well but Paris. For though he once had fifty, yet at this unfortunate period of his reign he had but ten; Agathon, Antiphon, Deiphobus, Dius, Hector, Helenus, Hippothous, Pammon, Paris, and Polites. Warburton.

Note return to page 57 3&lblank; but every blazing star, &lblank;] The old copy reads—but ore every blazing star. Steevens.

Note return to page 58 4Clo. That man, &c.] The clown's answer is obscure. His lady bids him do as he is commanded. He answers with the licentious petulance of his character, that if a man does as a woman commands, it is likely he will do amiss; that he does not amiss, being at the command of a woman, he makes the effect, not of his lady's goodness, but of his own, honesty, which, though not very nice or puritanical, will do no hurt; and will not only do no hurt, but, unlike the puritans, will comply with the injunctions of superiors, and wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart; will obey commands, though not much pleased with a state of subjection. Here is an allusion, violently enough forced in, to satirize the obstinacy with which the puritans refused the use of the ecclesiastical habits, which was, at that time, one principal cause of the breach of union, and, perhaps, to insinuate, that the modest purity of the surplice was sometimes a cover for pride. Johnson. I cannot help thinking that we should read—Though honesty be a puritan. Tyrwhitt. The aversion of the puritans to a surplice is alluded to in many of the old comedies. So in the following instances: —“She loves to act in as clean linen as any gentlewoman of her function about the town; and truly that's the reason that your sincere puritans cannot abide a surplice, because they say 'tis made of the same thing that your villainous sin is committed in, of your prophane holland.” Cupid's Whirligig by E. S. 1616. Again, in the Match at Midnight, 1633, by W. R. “He has turn'd my stomach for all the world like a puritan's at the sight of a surplice.” Again, in The Hollander, 1635: —“a puritan, who, because he saw a surplice in the church, would needs hang himself in the bell-ropes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 59 5&lblank; Fortune, she said, was no goddess, &c. Love no god, &c. complained against the queen of virgins, &c.] This passage stands thus in the old copies: Love, no god, that would not extend his might only where qualities were level, queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight, &c. 'Tis evident to every sensible reader that something must have slipt out here, by which the meaning of the context is rendered defective. The steward is speaking in the very words he overheard of the young lady; fortune was no goddess, she said, for one reason; love, no god, for another;—what could she then more naturally subjoin, than as I have amended in the text? Diana, no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight to be surprised without rescue, &c. For in poetical history Diana was well known to preside over chastity, as Cupid over love, or Fortune over the change or regulation of our circumstances. Theobald.

Note return to page 60 6If we are nature's, &lblank;] The old copy reads: If ever we are nature's. Steevens.

Note return to page 61 7By our remembrances &lblank;] That is, according to our recollection. So we say, he is old by my reckoning. Johnson.

Note return to page 62 8Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.] We should read: &lblank; O! then we thought them none. A motive for pity and pardon; agreeable to fact, and the indulgent character of the speaker. This was sent to the Oxford editor, and he altered O, to tho'. Warburton.

Note return to page 63 9&lblank; or were you both our mothers, I care no more for, than I do for heav'n, So I were not his sister: &lblank;] The second line has not the least glimmering of sense. Helen, by the indulgence and invitation of her mistress, is encouraged to discover the hidden cause of her grief; which is the love of her mistress's son; and taking hold of her mistress's words, where she bids her call her mother, she unfolds the mystery: and, as she is discovering it, emboldens herself by this reflection, in the line in question, as it ought to be read in a parenthesis: (I can no more fear, than I do fear heav'n.) i. e. I can no more fear to trust so indulgent a mistress with the secret, than I can fear heaven, who has my vows for its happy issue. This break, in her discovery, is exceeding pertinent and fine. Here again the Oxford editor does his part. Warburton. I do not much yield to this emendation; yet I have not been able to please myself with any thing to which even my own partiality can give the preference. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: Or were you both our mothers, I cannot ask for more than that of heaven, So I were not his sister: can't be no other Way I your daughter, but he must be my brother? Johnson. “Were you both our mothers, “I care no more for, than I do for heaven, “So I were not his sister.” There is a designed ambiguity: I care no more for, is, I care as much for.—I wish it equally. Farmer.

Note return to page 64 1Can't no other, But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?] The meaning is obscur'd by the elliptical diction. Can it be no other way, but if I be your daughter he must be my brother? Johnson.

Note return to page 65 2&lblank; Now I see The mystery of your loveliness, and find Your salt tears' head. &lblank;] The mystery of her loveliness is beyond my comprehension: the old Countess is saying nothing ironical, nothing taunting, or in reproach, that this word should find a place here; which it could not, unless sarcastically employed, and with some spleen. I dare warrant the poet meant his old lady should say no more than this: “I now find the mystery of your creeping into corners, and weeping, and pining in secret.” For this reason I have amended the text, loneliness. The Steward, in the foregoing scene, where he gives the Countess intelligence of Helena's behaviour, says: Alone she was, and did communicate to herself her own words to her own ears. Theobald. The late Mr. Hall had corrected this, I believe, rightly,— your lowliness. Tyrwhitt. I think Theobald's correction as plausible. To chuse solitude is a mark of love. Steevens.

Note return to page 66 3Your salt tears' head.] The source, the fountain of your tears, the cause of your grief. Johnson.

Note return to page 67 4&lblank; captious and intenible sieve,] The word captious I never found in this sense; yet I cannot tell what to substitute, unless carious for rotten, which yet is a word more likely to have been mistaken by the copyers than used by the author. Johnson. The old copy read—intemible sieve. Steevens.

Note return to page 68 5And lack not to lose still: &lblank;] Perhaps we should read: And lack not to love still. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 69 6&lblank; notes, whose faculties inclusive &lblank;] Receipts in which greater virtues were inclosed than appeared to observation. Johnson.

Note return to page 70 7Embowell'd of their doctrine, &lblank;] i. e. exhausted of their skill. So, in the old spurious play of K. John: “Back warmen, back; embowel not the clime.” Steevens.

Note return to page 71 8There's something in't More than my father's skill &lblank; &lblank; that his good receipt &c.] Here is an inference, [that] without any thing preceding, to which it refers, which makes the sentence vicious, and shews that we should read: There's something hints More than my father's skill, &lblank; &lblank; that his good receipt &lblank; i. e. I have a secret premonition or presage. Warburton.

Note return to page 72 9&lblank; into thy attempt:] So the old copy. We might better read—unto thy attempt. Steevens.

Note return to page 73 1In all the latter copies these lines stood thus: Farewel, young lords; these warlike principles Do not throw from you. You, my lords, farewel; Share the advice betwixt you; if both again, The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd. The third line in that state was unintelligible. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads thus: Farewel young lord, these warlike principles Do not throw from you; you, my lord, farewel; Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all, The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd, And is enough for both. The first edition, from which the passage is restored, was sufficiently clear; yet it is plain, that the latter editors preferred a reading which they did not understand. Johnson.

Note return to page 74 2&lblank; and you, my lords, farewel: &lblank;] It does not any where appear that more than two French lords (besides Bertram) went to serve in Italy; and therefore I think the king's speech should be corrected thus: “Farewel, young lord; these warlike principles “Do not throw from you; and you my lord, farewel;” what follows, shews this correction to be necessary: “Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all, &c.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 75 3&lblank; let higher Italy (Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall Of the last monarchy) see, &c.] This is obscure. Italy, at the time of this scene, was under three very different tenures. The emperor, as successor of the Roman emperors, had one part; the pope, by a pretended donation from Constantine, another; and the third was composed of free states. Now by the last monarchy is meant the Roman, the last of the four general monarchies. Upon the fall of this monarchy, in the scramble, several cities set up for themselves, and became free states: now these might be said properly to inherit the fall of the monarchy. This being premised, let us now consider sense. The King says, higher Italy;—giving it the rank of preference to France; but he corrects himself and says, I except those from that precedency, who only inherit the fall of the last monarchy; as all the little petty states; for instance, Florence, to whom these voluntiers were going. As if he had said, I give the place of honour to the emperor and the pope, but not to the free states. Warburton. The ancient geographers have divided Italy into the higher and the lower, the Apennine hills being a kind of natural line of partition; the side next the Adriatick was denominated the higher Italy, and the other side the lower: and the two seas followed the same terms of distinction, the Adriatick being called the upper sea, and the Tyrrhene or Tuscan the lower. Now the Sennones or Senois with whom the Florentines are here supposed to be at war, inhabited the higher Italy, their chief town being Arminium, now called Rimini, upon the Adriatick. Hanmer. Sir T. Hanmer reads: Those bastard that inherit, &c. with this note: Reflecting upon the abject and degenerate condition of the cities and states which arose out of the ruins of the Roman empire, the last of the four great monarchies of the world. Hanmer. Dr. Warburton's observation is learned, but rather too subtle; Sir Tho. Hanmer's alteration is merely arbitrary. The passage is confessedly obscure, and therefore I may offer another explanation. I am of opinion that the epithet higher is to be understood of situation rather than of dignity. The sense may then be this, Let upper Italy, where you are to exercise your valour, see that you come to gain honour, to the abatement, that is, to the disgrace and depression of those that have now lost their ancient military fame, and inherit but the fall of the last monarchy. To abate is used by Shakespeare in the original sense of abatre, to depress, to sink, to deject, to subdue. So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; 'till ignorance deliver you, “As most abated captives to some nation “That won you without blows.” And bated is used in a kindred sense in the Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; in a bondman's key, “With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness. The word has still the same meaning in the language of the law. Johnson.

Note return to page 76 4&lblank; Beware of being captives, Before you serve.] The word serve is equivocal; the sense is, Be not captives before you serve in the war. Be not captives before you are soldiers. Johnson.

Note return to page 77 5I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.] I read thus: Our parting is the parting of a tortured body. Our parting is as the disruption of limbs torn from each other. Repetition of a word is often the cause of mistakes: the eye glances on the wrong word, and the intermediate part of the sentence is omitted. Johnson. So, in K. Henry VIII. act II. sc. iii: “&lblank; it is a sufferance, panging “As soul and body's severing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 78 6You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, his cicatrice, with an emblem of war here on his sinister cheek;] It is surprising, none of the editors could see that a slight transposition was absolutely necessary here, when there is not common sense in the passage, as it stands without such transposition. Parolles only means: “You shall find one captain Spurio in the camp, with a scar on his left cheek, a mark of war that my sword gave him.” Theobald.

Note return to page 79 7&lblank; they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there, do muster, true gait, &c.] The main obscurity of this passage arises from the mistake of a single letter. We should read, instead of, do muster, to muster.—To wear themselves in the cap of the time, signifies to be the foremost in the fashion: the figurative allusion is to the gallantry then in vogue, of wearing jewels, flowers, and their mistress's favours in their caps.—there to muster true gait, signifies to assemble together in the high road of the fashion. All the rest is intelligible and easy. Warburton. I think this emendation cannot be said to give much light to the obscurity of the passage. Perhaps it might be read thus: They do muster with the true gaite, that is, they have the true military step. Every man has observed something peculiar in the strut of a soldier. Johnson. Perhaps we should read—master true gait. To master any thing, is to learn it perfectly. So, in the First Part of K. Hen. IV: “As if he master'd there a double spirit “Of teaching and of learning” &lblank; Again, in K. Hen. V: “Between the promise of his greener days, “And those he masters now.” In this last instance, however, both the quartos, viz. 1600, and 1608, read musters. Steevens.

Note return to page 80 8&lblank; that has bought his pardon.] The old copy reads—brought. Steevens.

Note return to page 81 9&lblank; across: &lblank;] This word, as has been already observed, is used when any pass of wit miscarries. Johnson.

Note return to page 82 1Yes, but you will, my noble grapes; an' if] These words, my noble grapes, seem to Dr. Warburton and Sir T. Hanmer, to stand so much in the way, that they have silently omitted them. They may be indeed rejected without great loss, but I believe they are Shakespeare's words. You will eat, says Lafeu, no grapes. Yes, but you will eat such noble grapes as I bring you, if you could reach them. Johnson.

Note return to page 83 2&lblank; I have seen a medecin, That's able to breathe life into a stone; Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary] Mr. Rich. Broom, in his comedy, intitled, The City Wit, or the Woman wears the Breeches, act IV. sc. i. mentions this among other dances: “As for corantoes, levoltos, jigs, measures, pavins, brawls, galliards or canaries; I speak it not swellingly, but I subscribe to no man.” Dr. Gray.

Note return to page 84 3&lblank; her years, profession,] By profession is meant her declaration of the end and purpose of her coming. Warburton.

Note return to page 85 4Than I dare blame my weakness:] This is one of Shakespeare's perplexed expressions. To acknowledge how much she has astonished me, would be to acknowledge a weakness; and this I have not the confidence to do. Steevens.

Note return to page 86 5&lblank; Cressid's uncle,] I am like Pandarus. See Troilus and Cressida. Johnson.

Note return to page 87 6&lblank; a triple eye,] i. e. a third eye.” Steevens.

Note return to page 88 7&lblank; wherein the honour Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,] Perhaps we may better read: &lblank; wherein the power Of my dear father's gift stands chief in honour. Johnson.

Note return to page 89 8When miracles have by the greatest been deny'd.] I do not see the import or connection of this line. As the next line stands without a correspondent rhyme, I suspect that something has been lost. Johnson. I point the passage thus; and then I see no reason to complain of want of connection: When judges have been babes. Great floods, &c. When miracles have by the greatest been deny'd. i. e. miracles have continued to happen, while the wisest men have been writing against the possibility of them. Steevens.

Note return to page 90 9Myself against the level of mine aim;] i. e. pretend to greater things than befits the mediocrity of my condition. Warburton. I rather think that she means to say, I am not an impostor that proclaim one thing and design another, that proclaim a cure and aim at a fraud: I think what I speak. Johnson.

Note return to page 91 1The greatest grace lending grace,] I should have thought the repetition of grace to have been superfluous, if the grace of grace had not occurred in the speech with which the tragedy of Macbeth concludes. Steevens.

Note return to page 92 2&lblank; a divulged shame, Traduc'd by odious ballads; my maiden's name Sear'd otherwise, no worse of worst extended, With vilest torture let my life be ended.] This passage is apparently corrupt, and how shall it be rectified? I have no great hope of success, but something must be tried. I read the whole thus: King. What dar'st thou venture? Hel. Tax of impudence, A strumpet's boldness; a divulged shame, Traduc'd by odious ballads my maiden name; Sear'd otherwise, to worst of worst extended; With vilest torture let my life be ended. When this alteration first came into my mind, I supposed Helen to mean thus: First, I venture what is dearest to me, my maiden reputation; but if your distrust extends my character to the worst of the worst, and supposes me seared against the sense of infamy, I will add to the stake of reputation, the stake of life. This certainly is sense, and the language as grammatical as many other passages of Shakespeare. Yet we may try another experiment: Fear otherwise to worst of worst extended; With vilest torture let my life be ended. That is, let me act under the greatest terrors possible. Yet once again we will try to find the right way by the glimmer of Hanmer's emendation, who reads thus: &lblank; my maiden name Sear'd; otherwise the worst of worst extended, &c. Perhaps it were better thus: &lblank; my maiden name Sear'd; otherwise the worst to worst extended; With vilest torture let my life be ended. Johnson. Let us try, if possible, to produce sense from this passage without exchanging a syllable. I would bear (says she) the tax of impudence, which is the denotement of a strumpet; would endure a shame resulting from my failure in what I have undertaken, and thence become the subject of odious ballads; let my maiden reputation be otherwise branded; and, no worse of worst extended, i. e. provided nothing worse is offered to me, (meaning violation) let my life be ended with the worst of tortures. The poet for the sake of rhime has obscured the sense of the passage. The worst that can befal a woman, being extended to me, seems to be the meaning of the last line. Steevens. The old copy reads not sear'd, but scar'd. The impression in my book is very faint, but that, I think, is the word.—In the same line it reads not no, but ne, probably an error for the. I would wish to read and point the passage thus: &lblank; a divulged shame &lblank; Traduc'd by odious ballads my maiden's name; &lblank; Scar'd otherwise; the worst of worst, extended With vilest torture, let my life be ended. i. e. Let my maiden reputation become the subject of ballads— let it be otherwise mangled—and (what is the worst of worst, the consummation of misery) my body being extended on the rack by the most cruel torture, let my life pay the forfeit of my presumption. Malone.

Note return to page 93 3Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth speak His powerful sound, within an organ weak:] To speak a sound is a barbarism: for to speak signifies to utter an articulate sound, i. e. a voice. So, Shakespeare, in Love's Labour Lost, says with propriety, And when love speaks the voice of all the gods. To speak a sound therefore is improper, though to utter a sound is not; because the word utter may be applied either to an articulate or inarticulate. Besides, the construction is vicious with the two ablatives, in thee, and, within an organ weak. The lines therefore should be thus read and pointed: Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth speak: His power full sounds within an organ weak. But the Oxford editor would be only so far beholden to this emendation, as to enable him to make sense of the lines another way, whatever become of the rules of criticism or ingenuous dealing: It powerful sounds within an organ weak. Warburton. The verb, doth speak, in the first line, should be understood to be repeated in the construction of the second, thus: His powerful sound speaks within a weak organ. Revisal. This, in my opinion, is a very just and happy explanation. Steevens.

Note return to page 94 4&lblank; in thee hath estimate:] May be counted among the gifts enjoyed by them. Johnson.

Note return to page 95 5Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all] The verse wants a foot. Virtue, by mischance, has dropt out of the line. Warburton.

Note return to page 96 6&lblank; prime, &lblank;] Youth; the spring or morning of life. Johnson. Should not we read—pride? Dr. Johnson explains prime to mean youth; and indeed I do not see any other plausible interpretation that can be given of it. But how does that suit with the context? “You have all that is worth the name of life; youth, beauty, &c. all, That happiness and youth can happy call.”— Happiness and pride, may signify, I think, the pride of happiness; the proudest state of happiness. So, in the Second Part of Henry IV. act III. sc. i: the voice and echo, is put for the voice of echo, or, the echoing voice. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 97 7King. Make thy demand. Hel. But will you make it even? King. Ay, by my scepter, and my hopes of help.] The king could have but a very slight hope of help from her, scarce enough to swear by: and therefore Helen might suspect he meant to equivocate with her. Besides, observe, the greatest part of the scene is strictly in rhime: and there is no shadow of reason why it should be interrupted here. I rather imagine the poet wrote: Ay, by my scepter, and my hopes of heaven. Thirlby.

Note return to page 98 8With any branch or image of thy state;] Shakespeare unquestionably wrote impage, grafting. Impe a graff, or slip, or sucker: by which she means one of the sons of France. Caxton calls our prince Arthur, that noble impe of fame. Warburton. Image is surely the true reading, and may mean any representative of thine; i. e. any one who resembles you as being related to your family, or as a prince reflects any part of your state and majesty. There is no such word as impage. Steevens.

Note return to page 99 9It is like a barber's chair, &c.] This expression is proverbial. See Ray's Proverbs. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0404

Note return to page 100 1&lblank; Tib's rush for Tom's fore-finger, &lblank;] Tom is the man, and by Tib we are to understand Tabitha the woman, and therefore, more properly we might read—Tom's rush for, &c. The allusion is to an ancient practice of marrying with a rush ring, as well in other countries as in England. Breval, in his Antiquities of Paris, mentions it as a kind of espousal used in France, by such persons as meant to live together in a state of concubinage: but in England, it was scarce ever practised except by designing men, for the purpose of corrupting those young women to whom they pretended love. Richard Poore, bishop of Salisbury, in his Constitutions, anni 1217, forbids the putting of rush rings, or any the like matter, on women's fingers, in order to the debauching them more readily: and he insinuates as the reason for the prohibition, that there were some people weak enough to believe, that what was thus done in jest, was a real marriage. But notwithstanding this censure on it, the practice was not abolished: for it is alluded to in a song in a play written by sir William Davenant, called The Rivals: “I'll crown thee with a garland of straw then, “And I'll marry thee with a rush ring.” Which song, by the way, was first sung by Miss Davis; she acted the part of Celania in the play; and king Charles II. upon hearing it, was so pleased with her voice and action, that he took her from the stage, and made her his mistress. Again, in the song called the Winchester Wedding, in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, vol. i. page 276: “Pert Strephon was kind to Betty,   “And blithe as a bird in the spring; “And Tommy was so to Katy,   “And wedded her with a rush ring.” Sir J. Hawkins. &lblank; Tib's rush for Tom's fore-finger, &lblank;] In humorous opposition to the regular form of matrimony, this may have been the exact ceremonial of an unlawful espousal. I conceive the fore-finger to mean the thumb in Romeo and Juliet, act I. sc. iv. as the thumb must be considered the foremost, where five fingers are said to appertain to a hand; which latter expression occurs in Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida, act II. sc. ii: “&lblank; a knot five-finger tied.” Tollet.

Note return to page 101 2To be young again, &lblank;] The lady censures her own levity in trifling with her jester, as a ridiculous attempt to return back to youth. Johnson.

Note return to page 102 3O Lord, sir, &lblank;] A ridicule on that foolish expletive of speech then in vogue at court. Warburton. Thus Clove and Orange, in Every Man out of his Humour: “You conceive me, sir?”—“O Lord, sir.” Cleaveland, in one of his songs, makes his gentleman, “Answer, O Lord, sir! and talk play-book oaths.” Farmer.

Note return to page 103 4&lblank; unknown fear.] Fear is here the object of fear. Johnson.

Note return to page 104 5Par. So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus. Laf. Of all the learned and authentick fellows, &lblank;] Shakespeare, as I have often observed, never throws out his words at random. Paracelsus, though no better than an ignorant and knavish enthusiast, was at this time in such vogue, even amongst the learned, that he had almost justled Galen and the ancients out of credit. On this account learned is applied to Galen; and authentick or fashionable to Paracelsus. Sancy, in his Confession Catholique, p. 301. Ed. Col. 1720, is made to say: “Je trouve la Riviere premier medecin, de meilleure humeur que ces gens la. Il est bon Galeniste, & tres bon Paracelsiste. Il dit que la doctrine de Galien est honorable, & non mesprisable pour la pathologie, & profitable pour les boutiques. L'autre, pourveu que ce soit de vrais preceptes de Paracelse, est bonne à suivre pour la verité, pour la subtilité, pour l'espargne; en somme pour la Therapeutique.” Warburton. As the whole merriment of this scene consists in the pretensions of Parolles to knowledge and sentiments which he has not, I believe here are two passages in which the words and sense are bestowed upon him by the copies, which the author gave to Lafeu. I read this passage thus: Laf. To be relinquished of the artists &lblank; Par. So I say. Laf. Both of Galen and Paracelsus, of all the learned and authentick fellows— Par. Right, so I say. Johnson.

Note return to page 105 6&lblank; authentick fellows, &lblank;] The phrase of the diploma is, authenticè licentiatus. Musgrave.

Note return to page 106 7Par. It is indeed: if you will have it in shewing, &c.] We should read, I think: “It is, indeed, if you will have it a shewing—you shall read it in what do you call there.”— Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 107 8A shewing of a heavenly effect, &c.] The title of some pamphlet here ridiculed. Warburton.

Note return to page 108 9Why, your dolphin is not lustier: &lblank;] By dolphin, is meant the dauphin, the heir apparent, and hope of the crown of France. His title is so translated in all the old books. Steevens.

Note return to page 109 1&lblank; facinorous spirit, &lblank;] This word is used in Heywood's English Traveller, 1633: “And magnified for high facinorous deeds.” Facinorous is wicked. The old copy spells the word facinerious; but as Parolles is not designed for a verbal blunderer, I have adhered to the common spelling. Steevens.

Note return to page 110 2&lblank; which should, indeed, give us a farther use to be made, &c.] Between the words us and a farther, there seems to have been two or three words dropt, which appear to have been to this purpose— should, indeed, give us [notice, that there is of this,] a farther use to be made—so that the passage should be read with asterisks for the future. Warburton. I cannot see that there is any hiatus, or other irregularity of language than such as is very common in these plays. I believe Parolles has again usurped words and sense to which he has no right; and I read this passage thus: Laf. In a most weak and debile minister, great power, great transcendence; which should, indeed, give us a farther use to be made than the mere recovery of the king. Par. As to be Laf. Generally thankful. Johnson. When the parts are written out for players, the names of the characters which they are to represent are never set down; but only the last words of the preceding speech which belongs to their partner in the scene. If the plays of Shakespeare were printed (as there is good reason to suspect) from these piece-meal transcripts, how easily may the mistake be accounted for, which Dr. Johnson has judiciously strove to remedy? Steevens.

Note return to page 111 3Lustick, as the Dutchman says: &lblank;] Lustigh is the Dutch word for lusty, chearful, pleasant. It is used in Hans Beer-pot's Invisible Comedy, 1618: “&lblank; can walk a mile or two “As lustique as a boor” &lblank; Again, in the Witches of Lancashire, by Heywood and Broome, 1634: “What all lustick, all frolicksome!” Steevens.

Note return to page 112 4&lblank; marry, to each but one!] I cannot understand this passage in any other sense, than as a ludicrous exclamation, in consequence of Helena's wish of one fair and virtuous mistress to each of the lords. If that be so, it cannot belong to Helena; and might properly enough be given to Parolles. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 113 5&lblank; bay curtal &lblank;] i. e. a bay, dock'd horse. Steevens.

Note return to page 114 6My mouth no more were broken &lblank;] A broken mouth is a mouth which has lost part of its teeth. Johnson.

Note return to page 115 7Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,] Shakespeare, I think, wrote dearth; i. e. want of blood, or more figuratively barrenness, want of fruit or issue. Warburton. The white death is the chlorosis. Johnson.

Note return to page 116 8And to imperial Love, &lblank;] The old editions read impartial, which is right. Love who has no regard to difference of condition, but yokes together high and low, which was her case. Warburton. There is no edition of this play older than that of 1623, the next is that of 1632, of which both read imperial: the second reads imperial Jove. Johnson.

Note return to page 117 *&lblank; all the rest is mute.] i. e. I have no more to say to you. So Hamlet: “&lblank; the rest is silence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 118 9&lblank; ames-ace &lblank;] i. e. the lowest chance of the dice. So, in the Ordinary, by Cartwright: “&lblank; may I at my last stake, &c. throw ames-ace thrice together.” Steevens.

Note return to page 119 1Laf. Do they all deny her? &lblank;] None of them have yet denied her, or deny her afterwards but Bertram. The scene must be so regulated that Lafeu and Parolles talk at a distance, where they may see what passes between Helena and the lords, but not hear it, so that they know not by whom the refusal is made. Johnson.

Note return to page 120 2There's one grape yet, &lblank;] This speech the three last editors have perplexed themselves by dividing between Lafeu and Parolles, without any authority of copies, or any improvement of sense. I have restored the old reading, and should have thought no explanation necessary, but that Mr. Theobald apparently misunderstood it. Old Lafeu having, upon the supposition that the lady was refused, reproached the young lords as boys of ice, throwing his eyes on Bertram who remained, cries out, There is one yet into whom his father put good blood,—but I have known thee long enough to know thee for an ass. Johnson.

Note return to page 121 3From lowest place whence virtuous things proceed,] This easy correction (when) was prescribed by Dr. Thirlby. Theobald.

Note return to page 122 4&lblank; good alone Is good without a name. Vileness is so:] The text is here corrupted into nonsense. We should read: &lblank; good alone Is good; and, with a name, vileness is so. i. e good is good, though there be no addition of title; and vileness is vileness, though there be. The Oxford editor, understanding nothing of this, strikes out vileness, and puts in its place, in'tself. Warburton. The present reading is certainly wrong, and, to confess the truth, I do not think Dr. Warburton's emendation right; yet I have nothing that I can propose with much confidence. Of all the conjectures that I can make, that which least displeases me is this: &lblank; good alone, Is good without a name; Helen is so; The rest follows easily by this change. Johnson. &lblank; without a name, vileness is so.] I would wish to read: &lblank; good alone Is good, without a name; in vileness is so: i. e. good alone is good unadorned by title, nay, even in the meanest state it is so. Vileness does not always mean, moral turpitude, but humility of situation; and, in this sense it is used by Drayton. Shakespeare, however, might have meant that external circumstances have no power over the real nature of things. Good alone (i. e. by itself) without a name (i. e. without the addition of titles) is good. Vileness is so. (i. e. is itself.) Either of them is what its name implies: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. “Let's write good angel on the devil's horn, “'Tis not the devil's crest.” Measure for Measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 123 5&lblank; She is young, wise, fair; In these, to nature she's immediate heir; And these breed honour: &lblank;] The objection was, that Helen had neither riches nor title: to this the king replies, she's the immediate heir of nature, from whom she inherits youth, wisdom, and beauty. The thought is fine. For by the immediate heir to nature, we must understand one who inherits wisdom and beauty in a supreme degree. From hence it appears that young is a faulty reading, for that does not, like wisdom and beauty, admit of different degrees of excellence; therefore she could not, with regard to that, be said to be the immediate heir of nature; for in that she was only joint-heir with all the rest of her species. Besides, though wisdom and beauty may breed honour, yet youth cannot be said to do so. On the contrary, it is age which has this advantage. It seems probable, that some foolish player, when he transcribed this part, not apprehending the thought, and wondering to find youth not reckoned amongst the good qualities of a woman when she was proposed to a lord, and not considering that it was comprised in the word fair, foisted in young, to the exclusion of a word much more to the purpose. For I make no question but Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; She is good, wife, fair. For the greatest part of her encomium turned upon her virtue. To omit this therefore in the recapitulation of her qualities, had been against all the rules of good speaking. Nor let it be objected that this is requiring an exactness in our author which we should not expect. For he who could reason with the force our author doth here, (and we ought always to distinguish between Shakespeare on his guard and in his rambles) and illustrate that reasoning with such beauty of thought and propriety of expression, could never make use of a word which quite destroyed the exactness of his reasoning, the propriety of his thought, and the elegance of his expression. Warburton. Here is a long note which I wish had been shorter. Good is better than young, as it refers to honour. But she is more the immediate heir of nature with respect to youth than goodness. To be immediate heir is to inherit without any intervening transmitter: thus she inherits beauty immediately from nature, but honour is transmitted by ancestors; youth is received immediately from nature, but goodness may be conceived in part the gift of parents, or the effect of education. The alteration therefore loses on one side what it gains on the other. Johnson.

Note return to page 124 6My honour's at the stake; which to defeat I must produce my power: &lblank;] The poor king of France is again made a man of Gotham, by our unmerciful editors. For he is not to make use of his authority to defeat, but to defend, his honour. Theobald. Had Mr. Theobald been aware that the implication or clause of the sentence (as the grammarians say) served for the antecedent “Which danger to defeat.”—there had been no need of his wit or his alteration. Farmer. Notwithstanding Mr. Theobald's pert censure of former editors for retaining the word defeat, I should be glad to see it restored again, as I am persuaded it is the true reading. The French verb defaire (from whence our defeat) signifies to free, to disembarrass, as well as to destroy. Defaire un noeud, is to untie a knot; and in this sense, I apprehend, defeat is here used. It may be observed, that our verb undo has the same varieties of signification; and I suppose even Mr. Theobald would not have been much puzzled to find the sense of this passage, if it had been written;— My honour's at the stake, which to undo I must produce my power. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 125 7Into the staggers, &lblank;] One species of the staggers, or the horses' apoplexy, is a raging impatience which makes the animal dash himself with destructive violence against posts or walls. To this the allusion, I suppose, is made. Johnson. Shakespeare has the same expression in Cymbeline, where Posthumus says: “Whence come these staggers on me?” Steevens.

Note return to page 126 8&lblank; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the new-born brief, And be perform'd to-night; &lblank;] This, if it be at all intelligible, is at least obscure and inaccurate. Perhaps it was written thus: &lblank; what ceremony Shall seem expedient on the new-born brief, Shall be perform'd to-night; the solemn feast Shall more attend &lblank;] The brief is the contract of espousal, or the licence of the church. The king means, What ceremony is necessary to make this contract a marriage, shall be immediately performed; the rest may be delayed. Johnson.

Note return to page 127 9The old copy has this singular stage direction: Parolles and Lafeu stay behind, commenting of this wedding. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0407

Note return to page 128 1&lblank; for two ordinaries, &lblank;] While I sat twice with thee at table. Johnson.

Note return to page 129 2&lblank; taking up; &lblank;] To take up, is to contradict, to call to account, as well as to pick off the ground. Johnson.

Note return to page 130 3&lblank; in the default, &lblank;] That is, at a need. Johnson.

Note return to page 131 4&lblank; for doing I am past: as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.] Here is a line lost after past; so that it should be distinguished by a break with asterisks. The very words of the lost line it is impossible to retrieve; but the sense is obvious enough. For doing I am past; age has deprived me of much of my force and vigour, yet I have still enough to shew the world I can do myself right, as I will by thee, in what motion [or in the best manner] age will give me leave. Warburton. This suspicion of chasm is groundless. The conceit which is so thin that it might well escape a hasty reader, is in the word past, I am past, as I will be past by thee. Johnson. Doing is here used obscenely. So, in Measure for Measure: “Bawd. Well, what has he done? “Clown. A woman.” Again, in Ben Jonson's translation of a passage in an Epigram of Petronius: “&lblank; Brevis est, &c. et fœda voluptas. “Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short.” Again, in The Fox: “Do I not know if women have a will, “They'll do, 'gainst all the watches in the world?” Collins.

Note return to page 132 5Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; &lblank;] This the poet makes Parolles speak alone; and this is nature. A coward should try to hide his poltroonery even from himself.—An ordinary writer would have been glad of such an opportunity to bring him to confession. Warburton.

Note return to page 133 6In former copies: &lblank; than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry.] Sir Tho. Hanmer restored it. Johnson.

Note return to page 134 7That hugs his kicksy-wicksy &c.] Sir T. Hanmer, in his Glossary, observes that kicksy-wicksy is a made word in ridicule and disdain of a wife. Taylor, the water-poet, has a poem in disdain of his debtors, intitled, a kicksy-winsy, or a Lerry come-twang. Dr. Gray.

Note return to page 135 8To the dark house, &lblank;] The dark house is a house made gloomy by discontent. Milton says of death and the king of hell preparing to combat: “So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell “Grew darker at their frown.” Johnson. Perhaps this is the same thought we meet with in K. Henry IV. only more solemnly express'd: “&lblank; he's as tedious “As is a tired horse, a railing wife, “Worse than a smoaky house.” The old copy reads—detected wife. Steevens.

Note return to page 136 9Whose want, and whose delay, &c.] The sweets with which this want are strewed, I suppose, are compliments and professions of kindness. Johnson.

Note return to page 137 1&lblank; probable need.] A specious appearance of necessity. Johnson.

Note return to page 138 2&lblank; a bunting.] This bird is mentioned in Lylly's Love's Metamorphosis, 1601: “&lblank; but foresters think all birds to be buntings.” Barrett's Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, gives this account of it: “Terrancola et rubetra, avis alaudæ similis, &c. Dicta terrancola quod non in arboribus, sed in terra versetur et ædificet.” The following proverb is in Ray's Collection: “A gosshawk beats not at a bunting.” Steevens.

Note return to page 139 3You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard;] This odd allusion is not introduc'd without a view to satire. It was a foolery practised at city entertainments, whilst the jester or zany was in vogue, for him to jump into a large deep custard, set for the purpose, to set on a quantity of barren spectators to laugh, as our poet says in his Hamlet. I do not advance this without some authority; and a quotation from Ben Jonson will very well explain it: “He may perhaps, in tail of a sheriff's dinner “Skip with a rhime o' th' table, from New-nothing, “And take his Almaine leap into a custard, “Shall make my lady mayoress, and her sisters, “Laugh all their hoods over their shoulders.” Devil's an Ass, act I. sc. i. Theobald.

Note return to page 140 4And rather muse, &c.] To muse is to wonder. So, in Macbeth: “Do not muse at me my most noble friends.” Steevens.

Note return to page 141 5&lblank; the wealth I owe;] i. e. I own. Steevens.

Note return to page 142 6In former copies: Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord: Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewel. Ber. Go thou toward home, where I will never come.] What other men is Helen here enquiring after? Or who is she supposed to ask for them? The old Countess, 'tis certain, did not send her to the court without some attendants: but neither the Clown, nor any of her retinue, are now upon the stage: Bertram, observing Helen to linger fondly, and wanting to shift her off, puts on a shew of haste, asks Parolles for his servants, and then gives his wife an abrupt dismission. Theobald.

Note return to page 143 7&lblank; I cannot yield,] I cannot inform you of the reasons. Johnson.

Note return to page 144 8&lblank; an outward man,] i. e. one not in the secret of affairs. Warburton. So inward is familiar, admitted to secrets. “I was an inward of his.” Measure for Measure. Johnson.

Note return to page 145 9By self-unable motion: &lblank;] We should read notion. Warburton. This emendation had been recommended by Mr. Upton. Steevens.

Note return to page 146 1&lblank; the younger of our nature,] i. e. as we say at present, our young fellows. The modern editors read nation. I have restored the old reading. Steevens.

Note return to page 147 2&lblank; sold a goodly manor for a song.] Thus the modern editors. The old copy reads—hold a goodly, &c. The emendation however seems necessary. Steevens.

Note return to page 148 3When thou can'st get the ring upon my finger, &lblank;] i. e. When thou canst get the ring, which is on my finger, into thy possession. The Oxford editor, who took it the other way, to signify, when thou canst get it on upon my finger, very sagaciously alters it to, When thou canst get the ring from my finger. Warburton. I think Dr. Warburton's explanation sufficient, but I once read it thus: When thou canst get the ring upon thy finger, which never shall come off mine. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0408

Note return to page 149 4&lblank; a deal of that, too much, Which holds him much to have.] That is, his vices stand him in stead. Helen had before delivered this thought in all the beauty of expression. &lblank; I know him a notorious liar; Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; Yet these fixt evils sit so fit in him, That they take place, while virtue's steely bones Look bleak in the cold wind &lblank; But the Oxford editor reads: Which 'hoves him not much to have. Warburton.

Note return to page 150 5Not so, &c.] The gentlemen declare that they are servants to the Countess; she replies, No otherwise than as she returns the same offices of civility. Johnson.

Note return to page 151 6&lblank; move the still-piercing air, That sings with piercing, &lblank;] The words are here oddly shuffled into nonsense. We should read: &lblank; pierce the still-moving air, That sings with piercing, &lblank; i. e. pierce the air, which is in perpetual motion, and suffers no injury by piercing. Warburton. The old copy reads—the still-peering air. Perhaps we might better read: &lblank; the still-piecing air. i. e. the air that closes immediately. This has been proposed already, but I forget by whom. Steevens. I have no doubt that still-piecing was Shakespeare's word. But the passage is not yet quite sound. We should read, I believe: &lblank; rove the still-piecing air. i. e. fly at random through. The allusion is to shooting at rovers in archery, which was shooting without any particular aim. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 152 7To the extream edge of hazard.] Milton has borrowed this expression Par. Reg. B. i: “You see our danger on the utmost edge “Of hazard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 153 8&lblank; St. Jaques' pilgrim, &lblank;] I do not remember any place famous for pilgrimages consecrated in Italy to St. James, but it is common to visit St. James of Compostella, in Spain. Another saint might easily have been found, Florence being somewhat out of the road from Rousillon to Compostella. Johnson.

Note return to page 154 9&lblank; Juno, &lblank;] Alluding to the story of Hercules. Johnson.

Note return to page 155 1&lblank; lack advice so much,] Advice, is discretion or thought. Johnson.

Note return to page 156 2&lblank; are not the things they go under; &lblank;] Mr. Theobald explains these words by, They are not really so true and sincere as in appearance they seem to be. He found something like this sense would fit the passage, but whether the words would fit the sense he seems not to have considered. The truth is, the negative particle should be struck out, and the words read thus—are the things they go under: i. e. they make use of oaths, promises, &c. to facilitate their design upon us. The allusion is to the military use of covered-ways, to facilitate an approach or attack; and the scene, which is a besieged city, and the persons spoken of who are soldiers, make the phrase very proper and natural. The Oxford editor has adopted this correction, though in his usual way, with a but; and reads, are but the things they go under. Warburton. I think Theobald's interpretation right; to go under the name of any thing is a known expression. The meaning is, they are not the things for which their names would make them pass. Johnson.

Note return to page 157 3&lblank; palmers &lblank;] Pilgrims that visited holy places; so called from a staff, or bough of palm they were wont to carry, especially such as had visited the holy places at Jerusalem. “A pilgrim and a palmer differed thus: a pilgrim had some dwelling-place, a palmer had none; the pilgrim travelled to some certain place, the palmer to all, and not to any one in particular; the pilgrim must go at his own charge, the palmer must profess wilful poverty; the pilgrim might give over his profession, the palmer must be constant.” Blo.

Note return to page 158 4&lblank; examined.] That is, question'd, doubted. Johnson.

Note return to page 159 5A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: &lblank;] It has been already observed, that there is great reason to believe, that when these plays were copied for the press, the transcriber trusted to the ear, and not to the eye; one person dictating, and another transcribing. Hence, when we wish to amend any corrupted passage, we ought, I apprehend, to look for a word similar in sound, rather than for one of a similar appearance to that which we would correct. The old copy exhibits this line thus: I write good creature wheresoe'er she is &lblank; I would correct: A right good creature &c. Mr. Rowe reads—Ah! right good creature! Others, Ay right: —Good creature! Malone. Some change is necessary; and Mr. Malone's being the most easy, I have inserted it in the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 160 6&lblank; brokes &lblank;] Deals as a broker. Johnson.

Note return to page 161 7&lblank; Yond's that same knave, That leads him to these places; &lblank;] What places? Have they been talking of brothels; or, indeed, any particular locality? I make no question but our author wrote: That leads him to these paces. i. e. such irregular steps, to courses of debauchery, to not loving his wife. Theobald. The places are, apparently, where he &lblank; brokes with all, that can in such a suit Corrupt &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 162 8&lblank; when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ours will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining cannot be remov'd.] Lump of ours has been the reading of all the editions. Ore, according to my emendation, bears a consonancy with the other terms accompanying, (viz. metal, lump and melted) and helps the propriety of the poet's thought: for so one metaphor is kept up, and all the words are proper and suitable to it. But, what is the meaning of John Drum's entertainment? Lafeu several times afterwards calls Parolles, Tom Drum. But the difference of the Christian name will make none in the explanation. There is an old motly interlude, (printed in 1601) call'd Jack Drum's Entertainment: Or, The Comedy of Pasquil and Katharine. In this, Jack Drum is a servant of intrigue, who is ever aiming at projects, and always foil'd, and given the drop. And there is another old piece (publish'd in 1627) call'd, Apollo shroving, in which I find these expressions: “Thuriger. Thou lozel, hath Slug infected you? “Why do you give such kind entertainment to that cobweb? “Scopas. It shall have Tom Drum's entertainment; a flap with a fox-tail.” But both these pieces are, perhaps, too late in time, to come to the assistance of our author: so we must look a little higher. What is said here to Bertram is to this effect: “My lord, as you have taken this fellow [Parolles] into so near a confidence, if, upon his being found a counterfeit, you don't cashier him from your favour, then your attachment is not to be remov'd.”—I'll now subjoin a quotation from Holingshed, (of whose books Shakespeare was a most diligent reader) which will pretty well ascertain Drum's history. This chronologer, in his description of Ireland, speaking of Patrick Scarsefield, (mayor of Dublin in the year 1551) and of his extravagant hospitality, subjoins, that no guest had ever a cold or forbidding look from any part of his family: so that his porter or any other officer, durst not, for both his ears, give the simplest man, that resorted to his house, Tom Drum's entertainment, which is, to hale a man in by the head, and thrust him out by both the shoulders. Theobald.

Note return to page 163 1&lblank; in any hand.] The usual phrase is—at any hand, but in any hand will do. It is used in Holland's Pliny, p. 456.—“he must be a free citizen of Rome in any hand.” Again, p. 508, 553, and 546. Steevens.

Note return to page 164 2&lblank; I will presently pen down my dilemma's &lblank;] By this word, Parolles is made to insinuate that he had several ways, all equally certain of recovering his drum. For a dilemma is an argument that concludes both ways. Warburton. Shakespeare might have found the word thus used in Holinshed. Steevens.

Note return to page 165 3&lblank; possibility of thy soldiership, &lblank;] Dele thy: the sense requires it. Warburton. There is no occasion to omit this word. I will subscribe (says Bertram) to the possibility of your soldiership. He suppresses that he should not be so willing to vouch for its probability. Steevens.

Note return to page 166 4&lblank; we have almost imboss'd him, &lblank;] To imboss a deer is to inclose him in a wood. Milton uses the same word: “Like that self-begotten bird “In th' Arabian woods embost, “Which no second knows or third.” Johnson. It is probable that Shakespeare was unacquainted with this word in the sense which Milton affixes to it, viz. from emboscare, Ital. to enclose in a thicket. When a deer is run hard and foams at the mouth, in the language of the field, he is said to be emboss'd. So, in the induction to the Taming of the Shrew: “&lblank; the poor cur is imbost.” Again, in Albumazar: “&lblank; I am emboss'd “With trotting all the streets.” Again, in Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “A boar emboss'd takes sanctuary in his shop, “And twenty dogs rush after.” Again, in Swetnam Arraign'd, 1620: “Hast thou been running for a wager, Swash? “Thou art horribly emboss'd.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. vii. c. 36: “For lo, afar my chased heart imbost and almost spent.” Steevens. “To know when a stag is weary (as Markham's Country Contentments say) you shall see him imbost, that is, foaming and slavering about the mouth with a thick white froth, &c.” Tollet.

Note return to page 167 5&lblank; ere we case him.] That is, before we strip him naked. Johnson.

Note return to page 168 6But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.] i. e. by discovering herself to the count. Warburton.

Note return to page 169 7&lblank; to your sworn counsel &lblank;] To your private knowledge, after having required from you an oath of secrecy. Johnson.

Note return to page 170 8Now his important blood will nought deny] Important here, and elsewhere, is importunate. Johnson. So, Spenser in the Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. vi. st. 29: “And with important outrage him assailed.” Important from the Fr. Emportant. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 171 9Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed, And lawful meaning in a lawful act;] To make this gingling riddle complete in all its parts, we should read the second line thus: And lawful meaning in a wicked act; The sense of the two lines is this: It is a wicked meaning because the woman's intent is to deceive; but a lawful deed, because the man enjoys his own wife. Again, it is a lawful meaning because done by her to gain her husband's estranged affection, but it is a wicked act because he goes intentionally to commit adultery. The riddle concludes thus: Where both not sin and yet a sinful fact. i. e. Where neither of them sin, and yet it is a sinful fact on both sides; which conclusion, we see, requires the emendation here made. Warburton. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads in the same sense: Unlawful meaning in a lawful act. Johnson. I believe the following is the true signification of the passage.— Bertram's meaning is wicked in a lawful deed, and Helen's meaning is lawful in a lawful act; and neither of them sin: yet on his part it was a sinful fact, for his meaning was to commit adultery, of which he was innocent, as the lady was his wife. Tollet. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0410

Note return to page 172 1&lblank; some band of strangers in the adversaries entertainment.] That is, foreign troops in the enemy's pay. Johnson.

Note return to page 173 2&lblank; the instance? &lblank;] The proof. Johnson.

Note return to page 174 3&lblank; and buy myself another of Bajazet's mule, &lblank;] We should read, Bajazet's mute, i. e. a Turkish mute. So, in Henry V: “Either our history shall with full mouth “Speak freely of our acts; or else our grave, “Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth.” Warburton. As a mule is as dumb by nature, as the mute is by art, the reading may stand. In one of our old Turkish histories, there is a pompous description of Bajazet riding on a mule to the Divan. Steevens.

Note return to page 175 4No more of that! I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows: I was compell'd to her; &lblank;] I know not well what Bertram can mean by entreating Diana not to strive against his vows. Diana had just mentioned his wife, so that the vows seem to relate to his marriage. In this sense not Diana, but himself strives against his vows. His vows indeed may mean vows made to Diana; but, in that case, to strive against is not properly used for to reject, nor does this sense cohere well with his first exclamation of impatience at the mention of his wife. No more of that! Perhaps we might read: I pr'ythee do not drive against my vows. Do not run upon that topick; talk of any thing else that I can bear to hear. I have another conceit upon this passage, which I would be thought to offer without much confidence: No more of that! I pr'ythee do not shrive—against my voice I was compell'd to her; &lblank; Diana tells him unexpectedly of his wife. He answers with perturbation, No more of that! I pr'ythee do not play the confessor— against my own consent I was compelled to her. When a young profligate finds his courtship so gravely repressed by an admonition of his duty, he very naturally desires the girl not to take upon her the office of a confessor. Johnson. Against his vows, I believe, means against his determined resolution never to cohabit with Helena; and this vow, or resolution, he had very strongly expressed in his letter to her. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0412

Note return to page 176 5What is not holy, that we swear not by,] Yes, nothing is more common than such kind of oaths. But Diana is not here accusing Bertram for swearing by a being not holy, but for swearing to an unholy purpose; as is evident from the preceding lines: 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth; But the plain simple vow, that is vow'd true. The line in question, therefore, is evidently corrupt, and should be read thus: What is not holy, that we swear, not 'bides, i. e. if we swear to an unholy purpose the oath abides not, but is dissolved in the making. This is an answer to the purpose. She subjoins the reason two or three lines after: &lblank; this has no holding, To swear by him, whom I protest to love, That I will work against him. &lblank; i. e. that oath can never hold, whose subject is to offend and displease that being, whom, I profess, in the act of swearing by him, to love and reverence.—What may have misled the editors into the common reading was, perhaps, mistaking Bertram's words above: By love's own sweet constraint &lblank; to be an oath; whereas it only signifies, being constrained by love. Warburton. This is an acute and excellent conjecture, and I have done it the due honour of exalting it to the text; yet, methinks, there is something yet wanting. The following words, but take the High'st to witness, even though it be understood as an anticipation or assumption in this sense,—but now suppose that you take the Highest to witness,—has not sufficient relation to the antecedent sentence. I will propose a reading nearer to the surface, and let it take its chance. Ber. How have I sworn! Diana. 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true. Ber. What is not holy, that we swear not by, But take the High'st to witness. Diana. Then, pray you tell me, If I should swear, &c. Bertram means to enforce his suit, by telling her, that he has bound himself to her, not by the petty protestations usual among lovers, but by vows of greater solemnity. She then makes a proper and rational reply. Johnson. I have replaced the old reading, being convinced that it is the true one, by the following passage in the Revisal. “The sense is, We never swear by what is not holy, but swear by, or take to witness, the Highest, the Divinity. The tenor of the reasoning contained in the following lines perfectly corresponds with this; If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, that I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths, when you found by experience that I loved you ill, and was endeavouring to gain credit with you in order to seduce you to your ruin? No, surely, but you would conclude that I had no faith either in Jove or his attributes, and that my oaths were mere words of course. For that oath can certainly have no tye upon us, which we swear by him we profess to love and honour, when at the same time we give the strongest proof of our disbelief in him, by pursuing a course which we know will offend and dishonour him. By not comprehending the poet's scope and meaning, Dr. Warburton hath been reduced to the necessity of fathering upon him such strange English as this: “What is not holy, that we swear,” to signify, If we swear to an unholy purpose; a sense those words will by no means bear. “Not 'bides,” to signify, The oath is dissolved in the making; a meaning which can no more be deduced from the words than the former. As to the remaining words, “But take the High'st to witness,” they so plainly and directly contradict Dr. Warburton's interpretation, that it was utterly impracticable for him to reconcile them to it, and therefore he hath very prudently passed them over without notice.” Steevens.

Note return to page 177 6If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,] In the print of the old folio, it is doubtful whether it be Jove's or Love's, the characters being not distinguishable. If it is read Love's, perhaps it may be something less difficult. I am still at a loss. Johnson.

Note return to page 178 *&lblank; this has no holding, &c. It may be read thus: &lblank; this has no holding, To swear by him whom I attest to love, That I will work against him. There is no consistence in expressing reverence for Jupiter by calling him to attest my love, and shewing at the same time, by working against him by a wicked passion, that I have no respect to the name which I invoke. Johnson.

Note return to page 179 7To swear by him whom I protest to love, That I will work against him:] This passage likewise appears to me corrupt. She swears not by him whom she loves, but by Jupiter. I believe we may read, to swear to him. There is, says she, no holding, no consistency, in swearing to one that I love him, when I swear it only to injure him. Johnson.

Note return to page 180 8I see, that men make hopes in such affairs] The four folio editions read: &lblank; make rope's in such a scarre. The emendation was introduced by Mr. Rowe. I find the word scarre in the Tragedy of Hoffman, 1631: “I know a cave, wherein the bright day's eye “Look'd never but ascance, through a small creeke, “Or little cranny of the fretted scarre: “There I have sometimes liv'd &c.” Again: &lblank; “Where is the villain's body? &lblank; “Marry, even heaved over the scarr, and sent a swimming &c.” Again: &lblank; “Run up to the top of the dreadful scarre.” Again: &lblank; “I stood upon the top of the high scarre.” Ray says, that a scarre is the cliff of a rock, or a naked rock on the dry land, from the Saxon carre, cautes. He adds, that this word gave denomination to the town of Scarborough. Steevens.

Note return to page 181 9&lblank; Since Frenchmen are so braid, Marry that will, I'll live and die a maid;] What! because Frenchmen were false, she that was an Italian, would marry nobody. The text is corrupted; and we should read: &lblank; Since Frenchmen are so braid, Marry 'em that will, I'll live and die a maid. i. e. since Frenchmen prove so crooked and perverse in their manners, let who will marry them, I had rather live and die a maid, than venture upon them. This she says with a view to Helen, who appeared so fond of her husband, and went through so many difficulties to obtain him. Warburton. The passage is very unimportant, and the old reading reasonable enough. Nothing is more common than for girls, on such occasions, to say in a pet what they do not think, or to think for a time what they do not finally resolve. Johnson. Braid does not signify crooked or perverse, but crafty or deceitful. So, in Greene's Never too Late, 1616: “Dian rose with all her maids, “Blushing thus at love his braids.” Chaucer uses the word in the same sense; but as the passage where it occurs in his Troilus and Cressida, is contested, it may be necessary to observe, that Bred is an Anglo-Saxon word, signifying fraus, astus. Again, in Tho. Drant's Translation of Horace's Epistles, where its import is not very clear: “Professing thee a friend, to plaie the ribbalde at a brade.” In the Romaunt of the Rose, 1336, Braid seems to mean forthwith, or, at a jerk. There is nothing to answer it in the Fr. except tantost. Steevens.

Note return to page 182 11 Lord.] The latter editors have with great liberality bestowed lordship upon these interlocutors, who, in the original edition, are called, with more propriety capt. E. and capt. G. It is true that captain E. is in a former scene called lord E. but the subordination in which they seem to act, and the timorous manner in which they converse, determines them to be only captains. Yet as the latter readers of Shakespeare have been used to find them lords, I have not thought it worth while to degrade them in the margin. Johnson. G. and E. were, I believe, only put to denote the players who performed these characters. In the list of actors prefixed to the first folio, I find the names of Gilburne and Ecclestone, to whom these insignificant parts probably fell. Malone.

Note return to page 183 2&lblank; till they attain to their abhorr'd ends; &lblank;] This may mean—they are perpetually talking about the mischief they intend to do, till they have obtained an opportunity of doing it. Steevens.

Note return to page 184 3&lblank; in his proper stream o'erflows himself.] That is, betrays his own secrets in his own talk. The reply shews that this is the meaning. Johnson.

Note return to page 185 4&lblank; he might take a measure of his own judgment, &lblank;] This is a very just and moral reason. Bertram, by finding how erroneously he has judged, will be less confident, and more easily moved by admonition. Johnson.

Note return to page 186 5&lblank; bring forth this counterfeit module; &lblank;] This epithet is improper to a module, which professes to be the counterfeit of another thing. We should read medal. And this the Oxford editor follows. Warburton. Module being the pattern of any thing, may be here used in that sense. Bring forth this fellow, who, by counterfeit virtue pretended to make himself a pattern. Johnson.

Note return to page 187 6&lblank; all's one to him.] Thus the old copy. The modern editors read—“all's one to me,” but without authority. I believe these words should begin the next speech. They would then appear as a proper remark made by Bertram on the assertion of Parolles. Steevens.

Note return to page 188 7&lblank; I con him no thanks for't, &lblank;] i. e. I shall not thank him in studied language. I meet with the same expression in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication, &c. &lblank;“I believe he will con thee little thanks for it.” Again, in Wily Beguiled, 1613: “I con master Churms thanks for this.” Again, in Any Thing for a Quiet Life: “He would not trust you with it, I con him thanks for it.” To con thanks may, indeed, exactly answer the French scavoir gré. To con is to know. Steevens.

Note return to page 189 8&lblank; if I were to live this present hour, &c.] I do not understand this passage. Perhaps (as an anonymous correspondent observes) we should read: “If I were to live but this present hour.” Steevens. Perhaps he meant to say—if I were to die this present hour. But fear may be supposed to occasion the mistake, as poor frighted Scrub cries: “Spare all I have, and take my life.” Tollet.

Note return to page 190 9&lblank; off their cassocks, &lblank;] Cassock signifies a horseman's loose coat, and is used in that sense by the writers of the age of Shakespeare. So, in Every Man in his Humour, Brainworm says—“He will never come within the sight of a cassock or a musquet rest again.” Something of the same kind, likewise appears to have been part of the dress of rusticks, in Mucedorus, an anonymous comedy, 1598, attributed by some writers to Shakespeare: “Within my closet there does hang a cassock, “Though base the weed is, 'twas a shepherd's.” Nash, in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication to the Devil, 1595, says: “I lighted upon an old straddling usurer, clad in a damask cassock edged with fur, &c.” Again, in Lingua, or a Combat of the Tongue, &c. 1607: “Enter Memory, an old decrepid man in a velvet cassock.” Again, in Whetstone's Promos and Cassandra, 1578: &lblank;“I will not stick to wear “A blue cassock.” On this occasion a woman is the speaker. So again, Puttenham, in his Art of Poetry, 1589:—“Who would not think it a ridiculous thing to see a lady in her milk-house with a velvet gown, and at a bridal in her cassock of moccado?” In The Hollander, a comedy by Glapthorne, 1640, it is again spoken of as part of a soldier's dress: “Here, sir, receive this military cassock, it has seen service.” “&lblank; This military cassock has, I fear, some military hangbys.” Steevens.

Note return to page 191 1Dian. The count's a fool, and full of gold, &lblank;] After this line there is apparently a line lost, there being no rhime that corresponds to gold. Johnson. I believe this line is incomplete. The poet might have written: Dian. The count's a fool, and full of golden store—or ore; and this addition rhimes with the following alternate verses. Steevens.

Note return to page 192 2Half won, is match well made; match, and well make it:] This line has no meaning that I can find. I read, with a very slight alteration: Half won is match well made; watch, and well make it. That is, a match well made is half won; watch, and make it well. This is, in my opinion, not all the error. The lines are misplaced, and should be read thus: Half won is match well made; watch, and well make it; When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it. After he scores, he never pays the score: He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before, And say &lblank; That is, take his money, and leave him to himself. When the players had lost the second line, they tried to make a connection out of the rest. Part is apparently in couplets, and the whole was probably uniform. Johnson. Perhaps we should read: Half won is match well made, match an' we'll make it. i. e. if we mean to make a match of it at all. Steevens.

Note return to page 193 3Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss:] All the editors have obtruded a new maxim upon us here, that boys are not to kiss.—Livia, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Tamer Tam'd, is of a quite opposite opinion: “For boys were made for nothing but dry kisses.” And our poet's thought, I am persuaded, went to the same tune. To mell, is derived from the French word, meler; to mingle. Theobald. So, in Ane verie Excellent and Delectabill Treatise, intitulit Philotus, &c. 1603: “But he na husband is to mee, “Then how could wee twa disagree   “That never had na melling.” “Na melling, mistress? will you then “Deny the mariage of that man?” Again, in the Corpus Christi Play, acted at Coventry. MSS. Cott. Vesp. VIII. p. 122: “A fayr yonge qwene herby doth dwelle, “Both frech and gay upon to loke, “And a tall man with her doth melle, “The way into hyr chawmer ryght evyn he toke.” The argument of this piece is the Woman taken in Adultery. Steevens. The old copy reads: Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss. I do not see any necessity for change, nor do I believe that any opposition was intended between the words mell and kiss.—The advice of Parolles to Diana simply is, to grant her favours to men and not to boys.—He himself calls his letter, “An advertisement to Diana to take heed of the allurements of one count Rousillon, a foolish idle boy.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0415

Note return to page 194 4&lblank; an egg out of a cloister; &lblank;] I know not that cloister, though it may etymologically signify any thing shut, is used by our author, otherwise than for a monastery, and therefore I cannot guess whence this hyperbole could take its original: perhaps it means only this: He will steal any thing, however trifling, from any place, however holy. Johnson.

Note return to page 195 5&lblank; he's a cat still.] That is, throw him how you will, he lights upon his legs. Johnson. Bertram has no such meaning. In a speech or two before, he declares his aversion to a cat, and now only continues in the same opinion, and says he hates Parolles as much as a cat. The other explanation will not do, as Parolles could not be meant by the cat, which always lights on its legs, for Parolles is now in a fair way to be totally disconcerted. Steevens. I am still of my former opinion. The same speech was applied by king James to Coke, with respect to his subtilties of law, that throw him which way we would, he could still like a cat light upon his legs. Johnson. I do not see any necessity for this explanation. The count had said, that formerly a cat was the only thing in the world which he could not endure; but that now, Parolles was as much the object of his aversion, as that animal. After Parolles has gone through his next list of falshoods, the count adds, “he's more and more a cat”—still more and more the object of my aversion than he was. As Parolles proceeds still further, one of the Frenchmen observes, that the singularity of his impudence and villany redeems his characters.—Not at all, replies the count; “he's a cat still;”—he is as hateful as ever. In this there appears to me no difficulty. Malone.

Note return to page 196 6Why does he ask him of me?] This is nature. Every man is on such occasions more willing to hear his neighbour's character than his own. Johnson.

Note return to page 197 7&lblank; to beguile the supposition &lblank;] That is, to deceive the opinion, to make the count think me a man that deserves well. Johnson.

Note return to page 198 8&lblank; my motive] Motive for assistant. Warburton.

Note return to page 199 9When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night! &lblank;] i. e. makes the person guilty of intentional adultery. But trusting a mistake cannot make any one guilty. We should read and point the lines thus: When fancy, trusting of the cozen'd thoughts, Defiles the pitchy night. i. e. the fancy, or imagination, that he lay with his mistress, though it was, indeed, his wife, made him incur the guilt of adultery. Night, by the ancients, was reckoned odious, obscene, and abominable. The poet, alluding to this, says, with great beauty, Defiles the pitchy night, i. e. makes the night, more than ordinary, abominable. Warburton. This conjecture is truly ingenious, but, I believe, the author of it will himself think it unnecessary, when he recollects that saucy may very properly signify luxurious, and by consequence lascivious. Johnson.

Note return to page 200 1But with the word, the time will bring on summer,] With the word, i. e. in an instant of time. The Oxford editor reads (but what he means by it I know not) Bear with the word. Warburton. The meaning of this observation is, that as briars have sweetness with their prickles, so shall these troubles be recompensed with joy. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0416

Note return to page 201 2Our waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us;] The word revives conveys so little sense, that it seems very liable to suspicion. &lblank; and time revyes us; i. e. looks us in the face, calls upon us to hasten. Warburton. The present reading is corrupt, and I am afraid the emendation none of the soundest. I never remember to have seen the word revye. One may as well leave blunders as make them. Why may we not read for a shift, without much effort, the time invites us? Johnson. To vye and revye were terms at several ancient games at cards, but particularly at Gleek. So, in Greene's Art of Coney-catching, 1592: “I'll either win something or lose something, therefore I'll vie and revie every card at my pleasure, till either yours or mine come out; therefore 12 d. upon this card, my card comes first.” Again: “&lblank; so they vie and revie till some ten shillings be on the stake &c.” Again: “This slesheth the Conie, and the sweetness of gain makes him frolick, and none more ready to vie and revie than he.” Again: “So they vie and revie, and for once that the Barnacle wins, the Conie gets five.” Again, in the Muses Elizium, by Drayton: “Vie and revie, like chapmen proffer'd, “Would't be receiv'd what you have offer'd.” Perhaps however, revyes is not the true reading. Shakespeare might have written—time reviles us, i. e. reproaches us for wasting it. Yet,—time revives us may mean, it rouses us. So, in another play of our author: “&lblank; I would revive the soldier's hearts, “Because I found them ever as myself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 202 3&lblank; whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbak'd and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: &lblank;] Parolles is represented as an affected follower of the fashion, and an encourager of his master to run into all the follies of it; where he says, Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords—they wear themselves in the cap of time—and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be followed. Here some particularities of fashionable dress are ridiculed. Snipt-taffata needs no explanation; but villainous saffron is more obscure. This alludes to a fantastic fashion, then much followed, of using yellow starch for their bands and ruffs. So, Fletcher, in his Queen of Corinth: “&lblank; Has he familiarly “Dislik'd your yellow starch; or said your doublet “Was not exactly frenchified?” &lblank; And Jonson's Devil's an Ass: “Carmen and chimney-sweepers are got into the yellow starch.” This was invented by one Turner, a tire-woman, a court-bawd; and, in all respects, of so infamous a character, that her invention deserved the name of villainous saffron. This woman was, afterwards, amongst the miscreants concerned in the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, for which she was hanged at Tyburn, and would die in a yellow ruff of her own invention: which made yellow starch so odious, that it immediately went out of fashion. 'Tis this then to which Shakespeare alludes: but using the word saffron for yellow, a new idea presented itself, and he pursues his thought under a quite different allusion—Whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbak'd and doughy youths of a nation in his colour, i. e. of his temper and disposition. Here the general custom of that time, of colouring paste with saffron, is alluded to. So, in the Winter's Tale: “I must have saffron to colour the warden pyes.” Warburton. Stubbs, in his Anatomie of Abuses, published in 1595, speaks of starch of various colours: —“The one arch or piller wherewith the devil's kingdome of great ruffes is underpropped, is a certain kind of liquid matter, which they call startch, wherein the devill hath learned them to wash and die their ruffes, which, being drie, will stand stiff and inflexible about their neckes. And this startch they make of divers substances, sometimes of wheate flower, of branne, and other graines: sometimes of rootes, and sometimes of other thinges: of all collours and hues, as white, redde, blewe, purple, and the like.” In The World toss'd at Tennis, a masque by Middleton, 1620 the five starches are personified, and introduced contesting for superiority. Again, in Albumazar, 1610: “What price bears wheat and saffron, that your band's so stiff and yellow?” Again, in Two Wise Men and all the rest Fools, 1619: “What's that about her neck? a pancake, or a tansey? “&lblank; 'Tis a band yellow starch'd: how cam'st thou to think it to be a tansey? &lblank; “&lblank; Because it looks so yellow.” Again; “&lblank; this saffronning was never used but in Ireland for body linen, to dissipate the company of creepers.” Again, in the Wonder of a Kingdom, 1636: “&lblank; Garters, strings, and ruff: “Hast not a saffron shirt on too?” Again, in Heywood's If you know not Me, you know Nobody, 1633: “&lblank; have taken an order to wear yellow garters, points, and shoe-tyings, and 'tis thought yellow will grow a custom.” “It has been long used at London.” It may be added, that in the year 1446, a parliament was held at Trim in Ireland, by which the natives were directed, among other things, not to wear shirts stained with saffron. Steevens.

Note return to page 203 4I would, I had not known him! &lblank;] This dialogue serves to connect the incidents of Parolles with the main plan of the play. Johnson.

Note return to page 204 5&lblank; I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.] Part of the furniture of a fool, was a bauble, which though it be generally taken to signify any thing of small value, has a precise and determinable meaning. It is, in short, a kind of truncheon with a head carved on it, which the fool anciently carried in his hand. There is a representation of it in a picture of Watteau, formerly in the collection of Dr. Mead, which is engraved by Baron, and called Comediens Italiens. A faint resemblance of it may be found in the frontispiece of L. de Guernier to king Lear in Mr. Pope's edition in duodecimo. Sir J. Hawkins. So, in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, 1604: “&lblank; if a fool, we must bear his bauble.” Again, in The Two angry Women of Abington, 1559: “The fool will not leave his bauble for the Tower of London.” Again, in Jack Drum's Entertainment, 1601: “She is enamoured of the fool's bauble.” Again, in Sir W. Davenant's Law against Lovers: “And fence against his dart with a fool's bauble.” Again, in Sir W. Davenant's The Man's the Master, 1673: “Love! is that fool's bauble in fashion still?” In the Stultifera Navis, 1497, are several representations of this instrument, as well as in Cocke Lorelle's Bote, printed by Wynkyn de Worde. Again, in Lingua, &c. 1607: “It had been better for you for to have found a fool's coat and a bauble.” Again, in Lyte's Herbal: “In the hollowness of the said flower (the great blue wolf's bane) grow two small crooked hayres, somewhat great at the end, fashioned like a fool's bable.” In the song, act I. sc. ii. of Volpone, we ought to read: “Tongue and bauble.” instead of “Tongue and babble.” “Free from slaughter,” in the next line but one, means that the fool was licensed to speak truth without being hurt or slain for doing so. An ancient proverb in Ray's collection, points out the materials of which these baubles were made: “If every fool should wear a bable, fewel would be dear.” See figure 12, in the plate at the end of the Second Part of King Henry IV. with Mr. Tollet's explanation. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0417

Note return to page 205 6&lblank; an English name; &lblank;] The old copy reads maine. Steevens.

Note return to page 206 7&lblank; his phisnomy is more hotter in France than there.] This is intolerable nonsense. The stupid editors, because the devil was talked of, thought no quality would suit him but hotter. We should read,—more honour'd. A joke upon the French people, as if they held a dark complexion, which is natural to them, in more estimation than the English do, who are generally white and fair. Warburton. This attempt at emendation is unnecessary. The allusion is, in all probability, to the Morbus Gallicus. Steevens.

Note return to page 207 8&lblank; to suggest thee from thy master &lblank;] Thus the old copy. The modern editors read—seduce, but without authority. To suggest had anciently the same meaning. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested, “I nightly lodge her in an upper tower.” Steevens.

Note return to page 208 9I am a woodland fellow, sir, &c.] Shakespeare is but rarely guilty of such impious trash. And it is observable, that then he always puts that into the mouth of his fools, which is now grown the characteristic of the fine gentleman. Warburton.

Note return to page 209 1&lblank; But, sure, he is the prince of the world, &lblank;] I think we should read—But since he is, &c. and thus Sir T. Hanmer.

Note return to page 210 2&lblank; unhappy.] That is, mischievously waggish, unlucky. Johnson. So, in Hamlet: “Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.” Steevens.

Note return to page 211 3So he is. My lord, that's gone, made himself much sport out of him; by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. &lblank;] Should not we read—no place, that is, no station, or office in the family? Tyrwhitt. A pace is a certain or prescribed walk; so we say of a man meanly obsequious, that he has learned his paces, and of a horse who moves irregularly, that he has no paces. Johnson.

Note return to page 212 4But it is your carbonado'd face.] Mr. Pope reads it carbinado'd, which is right. The joke, such as it is, consists in the allusion to a wound made with a carabine; arms, which Henry IV. had made famous; by bringing into use amongst his horse. Warburton. Carbonado'd means scotched like a piece of meat for the gridiron, and is, I believe, the true reading. Steevens.

Note return to page 213 5Enter a gentle Astringer.] Perhaps a gentle stranger, i. e. a stranger of gentle condition, a gentleman. The error of this conjecture which I have learn'd (since our edition first made its appearance, from an old book of Falconry, 1633,) should teach diffidence to those who conceive the words which they do not understand, to be corruptions. An ostringer or astringer is a falconer, and such a character was probable to be met with about a court which was famous for the love of that diversion. So, in Hamlet: “We'll e'en to it like French Falconers.” A gentle astringer is a gentleman falconer. The word is derived from ostercus or austercus, a goshawk; and thus, says Cowell in his Law Dictionary: “We usually call a falconer who keeps that kind of hawks, an austringer.” Again, in the Book of Hawking, &c. b. l. no date: “Now bicause I spoke of ostregiers, ye shall understand that the ben called ostregiers that keep gosshaukes or tercels, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 214 6Our means will make us means.] Shakespeare delights much in this kind of reduplication, sometimes so as to obscure his meaning. Helena says, they will follow with such speed as the means which they have will give them ability to exert. Johnson.

Note return to page 215 7In former editions: &lblank; but I am now, sir, muddy'd in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.] I believe the poet wrote, in fortune's moat; because the clown in the very next speech replies, I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering; and again, when he comes to repeat Parolles's petition to Lafeu, that hath fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddy'd withal. And again, Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may, &c. In all which places, 'tis obvious a moat or a pond is the allusion. Besides, Parolles smelling strong, as he says, of fortune's strong displeasure, carries on the same image; for as the moats round old seats were always replenish'd with fish, so the Clown's joke of holding his nose, we may presume, proceeded from this, that the privy was always over the moat; and therefore the Clown humourously says, when Parolles is pressing him to deliver his letter to lord Lafeu, Foh! pr'ythee, stand away; a paper from fortune's closestool, to give to a nobleman! Warburton. Dr. Warburton's correction may be supported by a passage in the Alchemist: “Subtle. &lblank; Come along, sir, “I now must shew you Fortune's privy lodgings. “Face. Are they perfumed, and his bath ready? “—Sub. All. “Only the fumigation's somewhat strong.” Farmer.

Note return to page 216 8&lblank; allow the wind.] i. e. stand to the windward of me. Steevens.

Note return to page 217 9Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. &lblank;] Nothing could be conceived with greater humour or justness of satire, than this speech. The use of the stinking metaphor is an odious fault, which grave writers often commit. It is not uncommon to see moral declaimers against vice, describe her as Hesiod did the fury Tristitia: &grT;&grhc;&grst; &gres;&grk; &grrr;&gria;&grn;&grw;&grn; &grm;&grua;&grc;&gra;&gri; &grrr;&grea;&gro;&grn; Upon which Longinus justly observes, that, instead of giving a terrible image, he has given a very nasty one. Cicero cautions well against it, in his book de Orat. “Quoniam hæc, says he, vel summa laus est in verbis transferendis ut sensum feriat id, quod translatum sit, fugienda est omnis turpitudo earum rerum, ad quos eorum animos qui audiunt trahet similitudo. Nolo morte dici Africani castratam esse rempublicam. Nolo stercus curiæ dici Glauciam. Our poet himself is extremely delicate in this respect; who, throughout his large writings, if you except a passage in Hamlet, has scarce a metaphor that can offend the most squeamish reader. Warburton.

Note return to page 218 1&lblank; I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, &lblank;] We should read,—similies of comfort, such as the calling him fortune's cat, carp, &c. Warburton. The meaning is, I testify my pity for his distress, by encouraging him with a gracious smile. The old reading may stand. Revisal. Dr. Warburton's proposed emendation may be countenanced by an entry on the books of the Stationers' Company, 1595: “—A booke of verie pythie similies, comfortable and profitable for all men to reade.” Steevens.

Note return to page 219 2You beg more than one word then. &lblank;] A quibble is intended on the word Parolles, which in French is plural, and signifies words. Malone.

Note return to page 220 3&lblank; you shall eat; &lblank;] Parolles has many of the lineaments of Falstaff, and seems to be the character which Shakespeare delighted to draw, a fellow that had more wit than virtue. Though justice required that he should be detected and exposed, yet his vices sit so fit in him that he is not at last suffered to starve. Johnson.

Note return to page 221 4&lblank; esteem] Dr. Warburton, in Theobald's edition, altered this word to estate; in his own he lets it stand and explains it by worth or estate. But esteem is here reckoning or estimate. Since the loss of Helen with her virtues and qualifications, our account is sunk; what we have to reckon ourselves king of, is much poorer than before. Johnson.

Note return to page 222 5&lblank; home.] That is, completely, in its full extent. Johnson.

Note return to page 223 6&lblank; blade of youth;] In the spring of early life, when the man is yet grown. Oil and fire suit but ill with blade, and therefore Dr. Warburton reads, blaze of youth. Johnson.

Note return to page 224 7Of richest eyes; &lblank;] Shakespeare means that her beauty had astonished those, who, having seen the greatest number of fair women, might be said to be the richest in ideas of beauty. So, in As you like It: “&lblank; to have seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.” Steevens.

Note return to page 225 8&lblank; the first view shall kill All repetition: &lblank; The first interview shall put an end to all recollection of the past. Shakespeare is now hastening to the end of the play, finds his matter sufficient to fill up his remaining scenes, and therefore, as on other such occasions, contracts his dialogue and precipitates his action. Decency required that Bertram's double crime of cruelty and disobedience, joined likewise with some hypocrisy, should raise more resentment; and that though his mother might easily forgive him, his king should more pertinaciously vindicate his own authority and Helen's merit. Of all this Shakespeare could not be ignorant, but Shakespeare wanted to conclude his play. Johnson.

Note return to page 226 9My high-repented blames,] High-repented blames, are faults repented of to the height, to the utmost. Shakespeare has high-fantastical in the following play. Steevens.

Note return to page 227 1Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;] First, it is to be observed, that this young man's case was not indifference to the sex in general, but a very strong attachment to one; therefore he could not scorn a fair colour, for it was that which had captivated him. But he might very naturally be said to do what men, strongly attached to one, commonly do, not allow beauty in any face but his mistress's. And that this was the thought here, is evident: 1. From the latter part of the verse: &lblank; or express'd it stol'n: 2. From the preceding verse: Which warp'd the line of every other favour; 3. From the following verses: Extended or contracted all proportions To a most hideous object: &lblank; Secondly, It is to be observed, that he describes his indifference for others in highly figurative expressions. Contempt is brought in lending him her perspective-glass, which does its office properly by warping the lines of all other faces; by extending or contracting into a hideous object: or by expressing or shewing native red and white as paint. But with what propriety of speech can this glass be said to scorn, which is an affection of the mind? Here then the metaphor becomes miserably mangled; but the foregoing observation will lead us to the genuine reading, which is: Scorch'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n; i. e. this glass represented the owner as brown or tanned; or, if not so, caused the native colour to appear artificial. Thus he speaks in character, and consistently with the rest of his speech. The emendation restores integrity to the figure, and, by a beautiful thought, makes the scornful perspective of contempt do the office of a burning-glass. Warburton. It was but just to insert this note, long as it is, because the commentator seems to think it of importance. Let the reader judge. Johnson.

Note return to page 228 2Our own love waking &c.]— These two lines I should be glad to call an interpolation of a player. They are ill connected with the former, and not very clear or proper in themselves. I believe the author made two couplets to the same purpose. Wrote them both down that he might take his choice, and so they happened to be both preserved. For sleep I think we should read slept. Love cries to see what was done while hatred slept, and suffered mischief to be done. Or the meaning may be, that hatred still continues to sleep at ease, while love is weeping; and so the present reading may stand. Johnson.

Note return to page 229 3Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! Or, e'er they meet, in me, O nature, cease!] I have ventur'd, against the authorities of the printed copies, to prefix the Countess's name to these two lines. The king appears, indeed, to be a favourer of Bertram; but if Bertram should make a bad husband the second time, why should it give the king such mortal pangs? A fond and disappointed mother might reasonably not desire to live to see such a day: and from her the wish of dying, rather than to behold it, comes with propriety. Theobald.

Note return to page 230 4In Florence was it from a casement thrown,] Bertram still continues to have too little virtue to deserve Helen. He did not know indeed that it was Helen's ring, but he knew that he had it not from a window. Johnson.

Note return to page 231 5&lblank; noble she was, and thought I stood engag'd; &lblank;] I don't understand this reading; if we are to understand, that she thought Bertram engag'd to her in affection, insnared by her charms, this meaning is too obscurely express'd. The context rather makes me believe, that the poet wrote: &lblank; noble she was, and thought I stood ungag'd;— i. e. unengag'd: neither my heart, nor person, dispos'd of. Theobald. The plain meaning is, when she saw me receive the ring, she thought me engaged to her. Johnson. The first folio reads—ingag'd, which perhaps may be intended in the same sense with the reading proposed by Mr. Theobald, i. e. not engaged; as Shakespeare in another place uses gag'd for engaged. Merchant of Venice, act I. sc. i. Tyrwhitt. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0418

Note return to page 232 6King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,] Plutus the grand alchemist, who knows the tincture which confers the properties of gold upon base metals, and the matter by which gold is multiplied, by which a small quantity of gold is made to communicate its qualities to a large mass of metal. In the reign of Henry the fourth, a law was made to forbid all men thenceforth to multiply gold, or use any craft of multiplication. Of which law, Mr. Boyle, when he was warm with the hope of transmutation, procured a repeal. Johnson.

Note return to page 233 7&lblank; Then, if you know That you are well acquainted with yourself,] i. e. then if you be wise. A strange way of expressing so trivial a though! Warburton. The true meaning of this strange expression is, If you know that your faculties are so sound, as that you have the proper consciousness of your own actions, and are able to recollect and relate what you have done, tell me, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 234 8My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Shall tax my fears of little vanity, Having vainly fear'd too little. &lblank;] The proofs which I have already had, are sufficient to shew that my fears were not vain and irrational. I have rather been hitherto more easy than I ought, and have unreasonably had too little fear. Johnson.

Note return to page 235 9Who hath for four or five removes, come short] We should read: Who hath some four or five removes come short. So, in King Lear: “For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines “Lag of a brother, &lblank; Warburton. Removes are journies or post-stages. Johnson.

Note return to page 236 1I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toule for this. I'll none of him. Thus the first folio. The second reads: I will buy me a son-in-law in a faire, and toule him for this. I'll none of him. The reading of the first copy seems to mean this: I'll buy me a new son-in-law, &c. and toll the bell for this; i. e. look upon him as a dead man.—The second reading, as Dr. Percy suggests, may imply: I'll buy me a son-in-law as they buy a horse in a fair; toul him, i. e. enter him on the toul or toll-book, to prove I came honestly by him, and ascertain my title to him. In a play called The famous History of Tho. Stukely, 1605, is an allusion to this custom: “Gov. I will be answerable to thee for thy horses. “Stuk. Dost thou keep a tole-booth? zounds, dost thou make a horse-coarser of me?” If the reading of the second folio be the true one, we must alter the punctuation thus: I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him: for this, I'll none of him. Steevens.

Note return to page 237 2I wonder, sir, &lblank;] This passage is thus read in the first folio: I wonder, sir, sir, wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them, as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry. &lblank; Which may be corrected thus: I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters, &c. The editors have made it—wives are so monstrous to you, and in the next line—swear to them, instead of—swear them lordship. Though the latter phrase be a little obscure, it should not have been turned out of the text without notice. I suppose lordship is put for that protection, which the husband in the marriage-ceremony promises to the wife. Tyrwhitt. I read with Mr. Tyrwhitt, whose emendation I have placed in the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 238 3&lblank; shall cease, &lblank;] i. e. decease, die. So, in King Lear: “Fall and cease.” I think the word is used in the same sense in a former scene in this comedy. Steevens.

Note return to page 239 5Whose high respect, and rich validity,] Validity is a very bad word for value, which yet I think is its meaning, unless it be considered as making a contract valid. Johnson. Validity certainly means value. So, in K. Lear: “No less in space, validity, and pleasure.” Again, in Twelfth-Night: “Of what validity and pitch soever.” Steevens.

Note return to page 240 6Count. He blushes, and 'tis it:] The old copy has: He blushes, and 'tis hit. Perhaps we should read: He blushes, and is hit. Malone.

Note return to page 241 7He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,] Quoted has the same sense as noted. So, in Hamlet: “I am sorry that with better heed and judgment “I had not quoted him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 242 8&lblank; debosh'd:] See a note on the Tempest, act III. sc. ii. Steevens.

Note return to page 243 9Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth:] Here the modern editors read: Which nature sickens with: &lblank; A most licentious corruption of the old reading, in which the punctuation only wants to be corrected. We should read, as here printed: Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth: i. e. only to speak a truth. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 244 1&lblank; all impediments in fancy's course, Are motives of more fancy: &lblank;] Every thing that obstructs love is an occasion by which love is heightened. And, to conclude, her solicitation concurring with her fashionable appearance, she got the ring. I am not certain that I have attained the true meaning of the word modern, which, perhaps, signifies rather meanly pretty. Johnson. I believe modern, means common. The sense will then be this— Her solicitation concurring with her appearance of being common, i. e. with the appearance of her being to be had as we say at present. Shakespeare uses the word modern frequently, and always in this sense. “&lblank; scorns a modern invocation.” K. John. “Full of wise saws and modern instances.” As you like it. “Trifles, such as we present modern friends with.” “&lblank; to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless.” Steevens.

Note return to page 245 2May justly diet me. &lblank;] i. e. make me fast, by depriving me (as Desdemona says) of “the rites for which I love you.” Collins. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0420

Note return to page 246 3&lblank; But thou art too fine in thy evidence; &lblank;] Too fine, too full of finesse; too artful. A French expression—trop fine. Malone.

Note return to page 247 4&lblank; customer.] i. e. a common woman. So, in Othello: “I marry her!—what?—a customer!” Steevens.

Note return to page 248 5He knows himself, &c. &lblank;] This dialogue is too long, since the audience already knew the whole transaction; nor is there any reason for puzzling the king and playing with his passions; but it was much easier than to make a pathetical interview between Helen and her husband, her mother, and the king. Johnson.

Note return to page 249 6&lblank; exorcist,] This word is used not very properly for enchanter. Johnson.

Note return to page 250 7Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;] The meaning is: Grant us then your patience; hear us without interruption. And take our parts; that is, support and defend us.

Note return to page 251 This play has many delightful scenes, though not sufficiently probable, and some happy characters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakespeare. I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate: when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness. The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time. Johnson.

Note return to page 252 The first edition of this play is in the folio of 1623.

Note return to page 253 The persons of the drama were first enumerated, with all the cant of the modern stage, by Mr. Rowe. Johnson.

Note return to page 254 1There is great reason to believe, that the serious part of this Comedy is founded on some old translation of the seventh history in the fourth volume of Belleforest's Histoires Tragiques. It appears from the books of the Stationers' Company, July 15, 1596, that there was a version of “Epitomes des cent Histoires Tragiques, partie extraictes des actes des Romains, et autres, &c.” Belleforest took the story, as usual, from Bandello. The comic scenes appear to have been entirely the production of Shakespeare. August 6, 1607, a Comedy called What you Will, (which is the second title of this play) was entered at Stationers' Hall by Tho. Thorpe. I believe, however, it was Marston's play with that name. Ben Jonson, who takes every opportunity to find fault with Shakespeare, seems to ridicule the conduct of Twelfth-Night in his Every Man out of his Humor, at the end of act III. sc. vi. where he makes Mitis say; “That the argument of his comedy might have been of some other nature, as of a duke to be in love with a countess, and that countess to be in love with the duke's son, and the son in love with the lady's waiting maid: some such cross wooing, with a clown to their serving man, better than be thus near and familiarly allied to the name.” Steevens.

Note return to page 255 2&lblank; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. &lblank;] There is an impropriety of expression in the present reading of this fine passage. We do not say, that the appetite sickens and dies through a surfeit; but the subject of that appetite. I am persuaded, a word is accidentally dropt; and that we should read and point the passage thus: &lblank; that, surfeiting The app'tite, love, may sicken, and so die. Warburton. It is true, we do not talk of the death of appetite, because we do not ordinarily speak in the figurative language of poetry; but that appetite sickens by a surfeit is true, and therefore proper. Johnson.

Note return to page 256 3That strain again;—it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing, and giving odour. &lblank;] Amongst the beauties of this charming similitude, its exact propriety is not the least. For, as a south wind, while blowing over a violet-bank, wafts away the odour of the flowers, it, at the same time communicates its own sweetness to it; so the soft affecting musick, here described, though it takes away the natural, sweet tranquility of the mind, yet, at the same time, it communicates a new pleasure to it. Or, it may allude to another property of musick, where the same strains have a power to excite pain or pleasure, as the state is, in which it finds the hearer. Hence Milton makes the self-same strains of Orpheus proper to excite both the affections of mirth and melancholy, just as the mind is then disposed. If to mirth, he calls for such musick: “That Orpheus' self may heave his head “From golden slumbers on a bed “Of heapt Elysian flowers, and hear “Such strains as would have won the ear “Of Pluto, to have quite set free “His half-regain'd Eurydice.” L'Allegro. If to melancholy— “Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing “Such notes as warbled to the string, “Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, “And made hell grant what love did seek.” Il Penseroso. Warburton. These self-same strains of Orpheus, as Mr. Edwards has likewise observed, are, in the first instance, what are performed by another person, when Orpheus is only a hearer; in the second, Orpheus sings himself. Milton, in his Paradise Lost, b. iv. has very successfully introduced the same image: “&lblank; now gentle gales, “Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense “Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole “Those balmy spoils.” Steevens.

Note return to page 257 4&lblank; the sweet south,] The old copy reads—sweet sound, which Mr. Rowe changed into wind, and Mr. Pope into south. Steevens.

Note return to page 258 5Of what validity and pitch soever,] Validity is here used for value. So, in All's Well that ends Well: “&lblank; O behold this ring, “Whose high respect and rich validity “Doth lack a parallel.” Malone.

Note return to page 259 6&lblank; so full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical.] This complicated nonsense should be rectified thus: &lblank; so full of shapes in fancy, That it alone is hight fantastical, i. e. love is so full of shapes in fancy, that the name of fantastical is peculiarly given to it alone. But, for the old nonsense, the Oxford editor gives us his new: &lblank; so full of shapes is fancy, And thou all o'er art high fantastical, says the critic. Warburton. High fantastical, means no more than fantastical to the height. So, in All's Well that ends Well:   “My high-repented blames, “Dear sovereign, pardon me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 260 7That instant was I turn'd into a hart;] This image evidently alludes to the story of Acteon, by which Shakespeare seems to think men cautioned against too great familiarity with forbidden beauty. Acteon, who saw Diana naked, and was torn in pieces by his hounds, represents a man, who indulging his eyes, or his imagination, with the view of a woman that he cannot gain, has his heart torn with incessant longing. An interpretation far more elegant and natural than that of Sir Francis Bacon, who, in his Wisdom of the Antients, supposes this story to warn us against enquiring into the secrets of princes, by shewing, that those who knew that which for reasons of state is to be concealed, will be detected and destroyed by their own servants. Johnson.

Note return to page 261 8O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! &lblank;] Dr. Hurd observes, that Simo, in the Andrian of Terence, reasons on his son's concern for Chrysis in the same manner: “Nonnunquam conlacrumabat: placuit tum id mihi. “Sic cogitabam: hic parvæ consuetudinis “Causâ hujus mortem tam fert familiariter: “Quid si ipse amâsset? quid mihi hic faciet patri?” &lblank; the flock of all affections &lblank; So, in Sidney's Arcadia: “&lblank; has the flock of unspeakable virtues.” Steevens.

Note return to page 262 9These sovereign thrones, &lblank;] We should read—three sovereign thrones. This is exactly in the manner of Shakespeare. So, afterwards, in this play, Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, do give thee fivefold blazon. Warburton.

Note return to page 263 1(Her sweet perfections) &lblank;] We should read and point it thus: (O sweet perfection!) Warburton. There is no occasion for this new pointing, as the poet does not appear to have meant exclamation. Liver, brain, and heart, are admitted in poetry as the residence of passions, judgment, and sentiments. These are what Shakespeare calls, her sweet perfections, though he has not very clearly expressed what he might design to have said. Steevens.

Note return to page 264 2Enter Viola, &lblank;] Viola is the name of a lady in the fifth book of Gower de Confessione Amantis. Steevens.

Note return to page 265 3A noble duke in nature, as in name.] I know not whether the nobility of the name is comprised in duke, or in Orsino, which is, I think, the name of a great Italian family. Johnson.

Note return to page 266 4And might not be deliver'd, &c.] I wish I might not be made public to the world, with regard to the state of my birth and fortune, till I have gained a ripe opportunity for my design. Viola seems to have formed a very deep design with very little premeditation: she is thrown by shipwreck on an unknown coast, hears that the prince is a batchelor, and resolves to supplant the lady whom he courts. Johnson.

Note return to page 267 5&lblank; I'll serve this duke;] Viola is an excellent schemer, never at a loss; if she cannot serve the lady, she will serve the duke. Johnson.

Note return to page 268 6That will allow me &lblank;] To allow is to approve. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; if your sweet sway “Allow obedience” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 269 7&lblank; care's an enemy to life.] Alluding to the old proverb, Care will kill a cat. Steevens.

Note return to page 270 8&lblank; Let her except, before excepted.] This should probably be, as before excepted: a ludicrous use of the formal law-phrase. Farmer.

Note return to page 271 9&lblank; as tall a man &lblank;] Tall means stout, courageous. So, in Wily Beguiled: “Ay, and he is a tall fellow, and a man of his hands too.” Again: “If he do not prove himself as tall a man as he.” Steevens.

Note return to page 272 1&lblank; viol-de-gambo, &lblank;] The viol-de-gambo seems, in our author's time, to have been a very fashionable instrument. In The Return from Parnassus, 1606, it is mentioned, with its proper derivation: “Her viol-de-gambo is her best content, “For 'twixt her legs she holds her instrument.” Collins. So, in the induction to the Male-content, 1606: “&lblank; come sit between my legs here. “No indeed, cousin, the audience will then take me for a viol-de-gambo, and think that you play upon me.” In the old dramatic writers frequent mention is made of a case of viols, consisting of the viol-de-gambo, the tenor and the treble. See Sir John Hawkins's Hist. of Musick, vol. IV. p. 32. n. 338, wherein is a description of a case, more properly termed a chest of viols. Steevens.

Note return to page 273 2&lblank; a coystril, &lblank;] i. e. a coward cock. It may however be a kestrel, or a bastard hawk; a kind of stone hawk. So, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “&lblank; as dear “As ever coystril bought so little sport.” Steevens. A coystril is a paltry groom, one only fit to carry arms, but not to use them. So, in Holinshed's Description of England, vol. I. p. 162: “Costerels, or bearers of the armes of barons or knights.” Vol. III. p. 248: “So that a knight with his esquire and coistrell with his two horses.” P. 272, “women, lackies and coisterels are considered as the unwarlike attendants on an army.” So again, in p. 127, and 217 of his Hist. of Scotland. For its etymology, see coustille and Coustillier in Cotgrave's Dictionary. Tollet.

Note return to page 274 3&lblank; like a parish-top. &lblank;] This is one of the customs now laid aside. A large top was formerly kept in every village, to be whipped in frosty weather, that the peasants might be kept warm by exercise, and out of mischief, while they could not work. Steevens.

Note return to page 275 4&lblank; Castiliano volgo; &lblank;] We should read volto. In English, put on your Castilian countenance; that is, your grave, solemn looks. The Oxford editor has taken my emendation: But, by Castilian countenance, he supposes it meant most civil and courtly looks. It is plain, he understands gravity and formality to be civility and courtliness. Warburton. Castiliano volgo;] I meet with the word Castilian and Castilians in several of the old comedies. It is difficult to assign any peculiar propriety to it, unless it was adopted immediately after the defeat of the Armada, and became a cant term capriciously expressive of jollity or contempt. The host, in the M. W. of Windsor, calls Caius a Castilian-king Urinal; and in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, one of the characters says: “Ha! my Castilian dialogues!” In an old comedy called Look about you, 1600, it is joined with another toper's exclamation very frequent in Shakespeare: “And Rivo will he cry, and Castile too.” So again, in Heywood's Jew of Malta, 1633: “Hey, Rivo Castiliano, man's a man.” Again, in the Stately Moral of the Three Lords of London, 1590: “Three Cavalieros Castilianos here &c.” Cotgrave, however, informs us, that Castille not only signifies the noblest part of Spain, but contention, debate, brabling, altercation. Ils sont en Castile. There is a jarre betwixt them; and prendre la Castille pour autruy: To undertake another man's quarrel. Mr. Malone observes, that Castilian seems likewise to have been a cant term for a finical affected courtier. So, in Marston's Satires, 1599: “&lblank; The absolute Castilio, “He that can all the points of courtship shew.” Again: “Come, come, Castilian, skim thy posset curd, “Shew thy queere substance, worthless, most absurd.” Again: “Take ceremonious compliment from thee, “Alas, I see Castilio's beggary.” Again: “Or shall perfum'd Castilio censure thee.” Again: “Castilios, Cyprians, court-boyes, Spanish blocks “Ribanded eares, Granada nether-stocks.” Again: “When some slie golden-stop'd Castilio, “Can cut a manor's strings at Primero.” These passages Mr. Malone supposes to confirm Dr. Warburton's emendation, and Sir T. Hanmer's comment. Marston, however, seems to allude to the famous Balthasar Castiglioni, whose most celebrated work was Il Cortigiano, or The Courtier. Steevens.

Note return to page 276 5It's dry, sir.] What is the jest of dry hand, I know not any better than Sir Andrew. It may possibly mean, a hand with no money in it; or, according to the rules of physiognomy, she may intend to insinuate, that it is not a lover's hand, a moist hand being vulgarly accounted a sign of an amorous constitution. Johnson. “But to say you had a dull eye, a sharp nose (the visible marks of a shrew), a dry hand, which is the sign of a bad liver, as he said you were, being toward a husband too, this was intolerable.” Monsieur D' Olive, 1606. Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “Of all dry-fisted knights, I cannot abide that he should touch me.” Again, in Westward-Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1606: “&lblank; Let her marry a man of a melancholy complection, she shall not be much troubled by him. My husband has a hand as dry as his brains &c.” The Chief Justice likewise in the second part of K. Hen. IV. enumerates a dry hand among the characteristicks of debility and age. Again, in Antony and Cleopatra, Charmian says: “&lblank; if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.” All these passages will serve to confirm Dr. Johnson's latter supposition. Steevens.

Note return to page 277 6In former copies: &lblank; thou seest, it will not cool my nature.] read: &lblank; it will not curl by nature. The joke is evident. Warburton. This emendation is Theobald's, though adopted without acknowledgement by Dr. Warburton. Steevens.

Note return to page 278 7&lblank; and yet I will not compare with an old man.] This is intended as a satire on that common vanity of old men, in prefering their own times, and the past generation, to the present. Warburton. This stroke of pretended satire, but ill accords with the character of the foolish knight. Ague-cheek, though willing enough to arrogate to himself such experience as is commonly the acquisition of age, is yet careful to exempt his person from being compared with its bodily weakness. In short, he would say with Falstaff: —“I am old in nothing but my understanding.” Steevens.

Note return to page 279 8&lblank; mistress Mall's picture? &lblank;] The real name of the woman whom I suppose to have been meant by Sir Toby, was Mary Frith. The appellation by which she was generally known, was Mall Cutpurse. She was at once an hermaphrodite, a prostitute, a bawd, a bully, a thief, a receiver of stolen goods, &c. &c. On the books of the Stationers' Company, August 1610, is entered—“A Booke called the Maddle Prancks of Merry Mall of the Bankside, with her walks in man's apparel, and to what purpose. Written by John Day.” Middleton and Decker wrote a comedy, of which she is the heroine. In this, they have given a very flattering representation of her, as they observe in their preface, that “it is the excellency of a writer to leave things better than he finds them.” The title of his piece is—The Roaring Girl, or, Moll Cut-purse; as it hath been lately acted on the Fortune Stage, by the Prince his Players, 1611. The frontispiece to it contains a full length of her in man's clothes, smoaking tobacco. Nath. Field, in his Amends for Ladies, another comedy, 1639, gives the following character of her:   “&lblank; Hence lewd impudent, “I know not what to term thee, man or woman, “For nature, shaming to acknowledge thee “For either, hath produc'd thee to the world “Without a sex: Some say that thou art woman, “Others, a man; to many thou art both “Woman and man; but I think rather neither; “Or man, or horse, as Centaurs old was feign'd.” A life of this woman was likewise published, 12mo, in 1662, with her portrait before it in a male habit; an ape, a lion, and an eagle by her. As this extraordinary personage appears to have partook of both sexes, the curtain which Sir Toby mentions, would not have been unnecessarily drawn before such a picture of her as might have been exhibited in an age, of which neither too much delicacy or decency was the characteristick. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0425

Note return to page 280 9&lblank; a sink-a-pace. &lblank;] i. e. a cinque-pace; the name of a dance, the measures whereof are regulated by the number five. The word occurs elsewhere in our author. Sir J. Hawkins.

Note return to page 281 1&lblank; flame-colour'd stock. &lblank;] The old copy reads—a damn'd colour'd stock. Stockings were in Shakespeare's time, called stocks. So, in Jack Drum's Entertainment, 1601: “&lblank; or would my silk stock should lose his gloss else.” The same solicitude concerning the furniture of the legs, makes part of master Stephen's character in Every Man in his Humour: “I think my leg would show well in a silk hose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 282 2Taurus? that's sides and heart.] Alluding to the medical astrology still preserved in almanacks, which refers the affections of particular parts of the body, to the predominance of particular constellations. Johnson.

Note return to page 283 3&lblank; a woman's part.] That is, thy proper part in a play would be a woman's. Women were then personated by boys. Johnson.

Note return to page 284 4&lblank; a barrful strife!] i. e. a contest full of impediments. Steevens.

Note return to page 285 5&lblank; fear no colours.] This expression frequently occurs in the old plays. So, in Ben Jonson's Sejanus. The persons conversing are Sejanus, and Eudemus the physician to the princess Livia: “Sej. You minister to a royal lady then. “Eud. She is, my lord, and fair. “Sej. That's understood “Of all their sex, who are or would be so; “And those that would be, physick soon can make 'em: “For those that are, their beauties fear no colours.” Again, in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “&lblank; are you disposed, sir? &lblank; “Yes indeed: I fear no colours; change sides, Richard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 286 6&lblank; lenten answer: &lblank;] A lean, or as we now call it, a dry answer. Johnson. Sure a lenten answer, rather means a short and spare one, like the commons in lent. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; what lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 287 7&lblank; and for turning away, let summer bear it out.] This seems to be a pun from the nearness in the pronunciation of turning away and turning of whey. I found this observation among some papers of the late Dr. Letherland, for the perusal of which, I am happy to have an opportunity of returning my particular thanks to Mr. Glover, the author of Medea and Leonidas, by whom, before, I had been obliged only in common with the rest of the world. I am yet of opinion that this note, however specious, is wrong, the literal meaning being easy and apposite. For turning away, let summer bear it out. It is common for unsettled and vagrant serving-men, to grow negligent of their business towards summer; and the sense of the passage is: If I am turned away, the advantages of the approaching summer will bear out, or support all the inconveniences of dismission; for I shall find employment in every field, and lodging under every hedge. Steevens.

Note return to page 288 8&lblank; Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. &lblank;] Hall, in his Chronicle, speaking of the death of Sir Thomas More, says, “that he knows not whether to call him a foolish wise man, or a wise foolish man.” Johnson.

Note return to page 289 9&lblank; Madonna, &lblank;] Ital. mistress, dame. So, La Maddona, by way of pre-eminence, the Blessed Virgin. Steevens.

Note return to page 290 1Now Mercury indue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well of feels!] This is a stupid blunder. We should read, with pleasing, i. e. with eloquence, make thee a gracious and powerful speaker, for Mercury was the god of orators as well as cheats. But the first editors, who did not understand the phrase, indue thee with pleasing, made this foolish correction; more excusable, however, than the last editor's, who, when this emendation was pointed out to him, would make one of his own; and so, in his Oxford edition, reads, with learning; without troubling himself to satisfy the reader how the first editor should blunder in a word so easy to be understood as learning, though they well might in the word pleasing, as it is used in this place. Warburton. I think the present reading more humourous. May Mercury teach thee to lie, since thou liest in favour of fools. Johnson.

Note return to page 291 2'Tis a gentleman. Here &lblank;] He had before said it was a gentleman. He was asked what gentleman? and he makes this reply; which, it is plain, is corrupt, and should be read thus: 'Tis a gentleman-heir. i. e. some lady's eldest son just come out of the nursery; for this was the appearance Viola made in men's clothes. See the character Malvolio draws of him presently after. Warburton. Can any thing be plainer than that Sir Toby was going to describe the gentleman, but was interrupted by the effects of his pickle-herring? I would print it as an imperfect sentence. Mr. Edwards has the same observation. Steevens. Mr. Steevens's interpretation may be right: yet Dr Warburton's reading is not so strange, as it has been represented. In Broome's Jovial Crew, Scentwell says to the gypsies: “We must find a young gentlewoman-heir among you.” Farmer.

Note return to page 292 3&lblank; above heat &lblank;] i. e. above the state of being warm in a proper degree. Steevens.

Note return to page 293 4&lblank; stand at your door like a sheriff's post, &lblank;] It was the custom for that officer to have large posts set up at his door, as an indication of his office. The original of which was, that the king's proclamations, and other public acts, might be affixed thereon by way of publication, So, Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “&lblank; put off “To the lord Chancellor's tomb, or the Shrives posts.” So again, in the old play called Lingua: “Knows he how to become a scarlet gown, hath he a pair of fresh posts at his door?” Warburton. Dr. Letherland was of opinion, that “by this post is meant a post to mount his horse from, a horseblock, which, by the custom of the city, is still placed at the sheriff's door.” In the Contention for Honour and Riches, a masque by Shirly, 1633, one of the competitors swears “By the Shrieve's post, &c.” Again, in A Woman never vex'd, Com. by Rowley, 1632: “If e'er I live to see thee sheriff of London, “I'll gild thy painted posts cum privilegio.” Again, in Cynthia's Revels, by B. Jonson: &lblank; “The provident painting of his posts, against he should have been prætor.” Again, in Heywood's English Traveller, 1633: “What brave carv'd posts? who knows but here “In time, sir, you may keep your shrivalty?” Steevens.

Note return to page 294 5&lblank; I am very comptible, &lblank;] Comptible for ready to call to account. Warburton. Viola seems to mean just the contrary. She begs she may not be treated with scorn, because she is very submissive, even to lighter marks of reprehension. Steevens.

Note return to page 295 6&lblank; skipping &lblank;] Wild, frolick, mad. Johnson. So, in K. Henry IV. P. I: “The skipping king, he ambled up and down &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 296 7&lblank; I am to hull here &lblank;] To hull means to drive to and fro upon the water, without sails or rudder. So, in the Noble Soldier, 1634: “That all these mischiefs hull with flagging sail.” Steevens.

Note return to page 297 8&lblank; Some mollification for your giant, &lblank;] Ladies, in romance, are guarded by giants, who repel all improper or troublesome advances. Viola, seeing the waiting-maid so eager to oppose her message, intreats Olivia to pacify her giant. Johnson. Viola likewise alludes to the diminutive size of Maria, who is called on subsequent occasions, little villain, youngest wren of nine, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 298 9Vio. &lblank; Tell me your mind, I am a messenger.] These words must be divided between the two speakers thus: Oli. Tell me your mind. Vio. I am a messenger. Viola growing troublesome, Olivia would dismiss her, and therefore cuts her short with this command, Tell me your mind. The other, taking advantage of the ambiguity of the word mind, which signifies either business or inclinations, replies as if she had used it in the latter sense, I am a messenger. Warburton.

Note return to page 299 1&lblank; Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't not well done?] This is nonsense. The change of was to wear, I think, clears all up, and gives the expression an air of gallantry. Viola presses to see Olivia's face: The other at length pulls off her veil, and says: We will draw the curtain, and shew you the picture. I wear this complexion to day, I may wear another to morrow; jocularly intimating, that she painted. The other, vext at the jest, says, “Excellently done, if God did all.” Perhaps, it may be true, what you say in jest; otherwise 'tis an excellent face. 'Tis in grain, &c. replies Olivia. Warburton. I am not satisfied with this emendation. She says, I was this present, instead of saying I am; because she had once shewn herself, and personates the beholder, who is afterwards to make the relation. Steevens.

Note return to page 300 2'Tis beauty truly blent, &lblank;] i. e. blended, mix'd together. Blent is the antient participle of the verb to blend. So, in a Looking Glass for London and England, 1617: “&lblank; the beautiful encrease “Is wholly blent.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. i. c. 6: “&lblank; for having blent “My name with guile, and traiterous intent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 301 3If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy.] How much more elegantly is this thought expressed by Shakespeare, than by Beaumont and Fletcher in their Philaster? “I grieve such virtue should be laid in earth “Without an heir.” Shakespeare has copied himself in his 11th sonnet: “She carv'd thee for her seal, and meant thereby “Thou should'st print more, nor let that copy die.” Again, in the 3d sonnet: “Die single, and thine image dies with thee.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0426

Note return to page 302 4&lblank; Were you sent hither to praise me?] The foregoing words schedule and inventoried, shew, I think, that this ought to be printed: “Were you sent hither to 'praise me? i. e. to appretiate or appraise me. Malone.

Note return to page 303 5With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.] This line is worthy of Dryden's Almanzor, and if not said in mockery of amorous hyperboles, might be regarded as a ridicule on a passage in Chapman's translation of the first book of Homer, 1598: “Jove thunder'd out a sigh;” or, on another in Lodge's Rosalynde, 1592: “The winds of my deepe sighes “That thunder still for noughts, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 304 6Halloo your name to the reverberate hills,] I have corrected, reverberant. Theobald. Mr. Upton well observes, that Shakespeare frequently uses the adjective passive, actively. Theobald's emendation is therefore unnecessary. B. Jonson in one of his masques at court, says: “&lblank; which skill, Pythagoras “First taught to men by a reverberate glass.” Steevens.

Note return to page 305 7Mine eye &c.] I believe the meaning is; I am not mistress of my own actions, I am afraid that my eyes betray me, and flatter the youth without my consent, with discoveries of love. Johnson.

Note return to page 306 8&lblank; to express myself: &lblank;] That is, to reveal myself. Johnson.

Note return to page 307 9Messaline, &lblank;] Sir Thomas Hanmer very judiciously offers to read Metelin, an island in the Archipelago; but Shakespeare knew little of geography, and was not at all solicitous about orthographical nicety. The same mistake occurs in the concluding scene of the play: “Of Messaline; Sebastian was my father.” Steevens.

Note return to page 308 1&lblank; with such estimable wonder, &lblank;] These words Dr. Warburton calls an interpolation of the players, but what did the players gain by it? they may be sometimes guilty of a joke without the concurrence of the poet, but they never lengthen a speech only to make it longer. Shakespeare often confounds the active and passive adjectives. Estimable wonder is esteeming wonder, or wonder and esteem. The meaning is, that he could not venture to think so highly as others of his sister. Johnson. Thus Milton uses unexpressive notes for unexpressing [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 309 for, unexpressing, read, unexpressible.

Note return to page 310 2&lblank; that, sure, &lblank;] Sure has been added, to complete the verse. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0427

Note return to page 311 3&lblank; her eyes had lost her tongue,] This is nonsense; we should read: &lblank; her eyes had crost her tongue, Alluding to the notion of the fascination of the eyes; the effects of which were called crossing. Warburton. That the fascination of the eyes was called crossing, ought to have been proved. But however that be, the present reading has not only sense but beauty. We say a man loses his company when they go one way and he goes another. So Olivia's tongue lost her eyes; her tongue was talking of the duke, and her eyes gazing on his messenger. Johnson.

Note return to page 312 4&lblank; the pregnant enemy &lblank;] Is, I believe, the dexterous fiend, or enemy of mankind. Johnson. Pregnant is certainly dextrous, or ready. So, in Hamlet: “How pregnant sometimes his replies are!” Steevens.

Note return to page 313 5How easy is it, for the proper false In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!] This is obscure. The meaning is, how easy is disguise to women; how easily does their own falsehood, contained in their waxen changeable hearts, enable them to assume deceitful appearances! The two next lines are perhaps transposed, and should be read thus: For such as we are made, if such we be, Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we. Johnson. I am not certain that this explanation is just. Viola has been condemning those who disguise themselves, because Olivia had fallen in love with a specious appearance. How easy is it, she adds, for those who are at once proper (i. e. fair in their appearance) and false, (i. e. deceitful) to make an impression on the hearts of women?—The proper false is certainly a less elegant expression than the fair deceiver, but seems to mean the same thing. A proper man, was the ancient phrase for a handsome man: “This Ludovico is a proper man.” Othello. The proper false may be yet explained another way. Shakespeare sometimes uses proper for peculiar. So, in Othello: “In my defunct and a proper satisfaction.” The proper false will then mean those who are peculiarly false, through premeditation and art. To set their forms means, to plant their images, i. e. to make an impression on their easy minds. Mr. Tyrwhitt concurs with me in the first supposition, and adds— “instead of transposing these lines according to Dr. Johnson's conjecture, I am rather inclined to read the latter thus: “For such as we are made of, such we be.” So, in the Tempest. “&lblank; we are such stuff “As dreams are made of.” Steevens. For, such as we are made, if such we be.] i. e. if, such as we are made for, such we be. Malone.

Note return to page 314 6&lblank; our frailty &lblank;] The old copy reads &lblank; O frailty. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0428

Note return to page 315 7How will this fadge? &lblank;] To fadge, is to suit, to fit. So, in Decker's comedy of Old Fortunatus, 1600: “I shall never fadge with the humour, because I cannot lie.” So, in our author's Love's Labour's Lost: “We will have, if this fadge not, an antick.” So, in Mother Bombie, 1594: “I'll have thy advice, and if it fadge, thou shalt eat.” &lblank; “But how will it fadge in the end?” &lblank; “All this fadges well” &lblank; “We are about a matter of legerdemain, how will this fadge?” &lblank; “&lblank; in good time it fadges” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 316 8&lblank; I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.] A ridicule on the medical theory of that time, which supposed health to consist in the just temperament and balance of these elements in the human frame. Warburton.

Note return to page 317 9&lblank; a stoop &lblank;] i. e. a cup. So, in Othello: “Come lieutenant, I have a stoop of wine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 318 1By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. &lblank;] Breast, voice. Breath has been here proposed: but many instances may be brought to justify the old reading beyond a doubt. In the statutes of Stoke-college, founded by archbishop Parker, 1535, Strype's Parker, p. 9: “Which said queristers, after their breasts are changed, &c.” that is, after their voices are broken. In Fiddes' Life of Wolsey, Append. p. 128: “Singingmen well-breasted.” In Tusser's Husbandrie, p. 155. edit. P. Short: “The better brest, the lesser rest, “To serve the queer now there now heere.” Tusser in this piece, called The Author's Life, tells us that he was a choir-boy in the collegiate chapel of Wallingford castle; and that, on account of the excellence of his voice, he was successively removed to various choirs. Warton. B. Jonson uses the word breast in the same manner, in his Masque of Gypsies, p. 623, edit. 1692. In an old play called the 4 P's, written by J. Heywood, 1569, is this passage: “Poticary. I pray you, tell me can you sing? “Pedler. Sir, I have some sight in singing. “Poticary. But is your breast any thing sweet? “Pedlar. Whatever my breast is, my voice is meet.” In The Pilgrim of B. and Fletcher, the fool says: “Let us hear him sing; he has a fine breast.” Again, in Middleton's Woman beware Women: “Yea, the voice too, sir. “Ay, and a sweet breast too, my lord, I hope.” Again: “Her father prais'd her breast; she'd voice forsooth; “I marvell'd she sung so small &lblank;” Again, in the Martial Maid of B. and Fletcher: “Sweet-breasted as the nightingale or thrush.” I suppose this cant term to have been current among the musicians of the age. All professions have in some degree their jargon; and the remoter they are from liberal science, and the less consequential to the general interests of life, the more they strive to hide themselves behind affected terms and barbarous phraseology. Steevens.

Note return to page 319 2&lblank; I sent thee six-pence for thy lemon; had'st it?] But the Clown was neither pantler, nor butler. The poet's word was certainly mistaken by the ignorance of the printer. I have restored, leman, i. e. I sent thee six-pence to spend on thy mistress. Theobald. I receive Theobald's emendation, because I think it throws a light on the obscurity of the following speech. Leman is frequently used by the ancient writers, and Spenser in particular. So again, in The Noble Soldier, 1634: “Fright him as he's embracing his new leman.” The money was given him for his leman, i. e. his mistress. He says he did impeticoat the gratuity, i. e. he gave it to his petticoat companion; for (says he) Malvolio's nose is no whipstock, i. e. Malvolio may smell out our connection, but his suspicion will not prove the instrument of our punishment. My mistress has a white hand, and the myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses, i. e. my mistress is handsome, but the houses kept by officers of justice, are no places to make merry and entertain her at. Such may be the meaning of this whimsical speech. A whipstock is, I believe, the handle of a whip, round which a strap of leather is usually twisted, and is sometimes put for the whip itself. So, in Albumazar, 1616: “&lblank; out, Carter, “Hence dirty whipstock &lblank;” Again in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “&lblank; the coach-man sit! “His duty is before you to stand, “Having a lusty whipstock in his hand.” The word occurs again in The Spanish Tragedy, 1605: “Bought you a whistle and a whipstock too.” Again, in Gascoigne: &lblank; “cast whipstocks to clout his shoon.” Again, in The Downfal of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “I would knock my whipstock on your addle pate.” Again, in the Two Noble Kinsmen, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; Phœbus when “He broke his whipstock, and exclaim'd against “The horses of the sun &lblank;” Steevens.

Note return to page 320 3I did impeticos &c.] This, sir T. Hanmer tells us, is the same with impocket thy gratuity. He is undoubtedly right; but we must read: I did impeticoat thy gratuity. The fools were kept in long coats, to which the allusion is made. There is yet much in this dialogue which I do not understand. Johnson. Figure 12 in the plate of the Morris-dancers, at the end of K. Hen. IV. P. II. sufficiently proves that petticoats were not always a part of the dress of fools or jesters, though they were of ideots, for a reason which I avoid to offer. Steevens.

Note return to page 321 4&lblank; of good life?] I do not suppose that by a song of good life, the Clown means a song of a moral turn; though sir Andrew answers to it in that signification, Good life, I believe, is harmless mirth or jollity. It may be a Gallicism: we call a jolly fellow a bon vivant. Steevens.

Note return to page 322 5In delay there lies no plenty;] This is a proverbial saying corrupted; and should be read thus: In decay there lies no plenty. A reproof of avarice, which stores perishable fruits till they decay. To these fruits the poet, humourously, compares youth or virginity; which, he says, is a stuff will not endure. Warburton. I believe delay is right. Johnson. Delay is certainly right. No man will ever be worth much, who delays the advantages offered by the present hour, in hopes that the future will offer more. So, in K. Rich. III. act IV. sc. iii: “Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary.” Again, in K. Henry VI. P. I: “Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.” Again, in a Scots proverb: “After a delay comes a let.” See Kelly's Collection, p. 52. Steevens.

Note return to page 323 6Then come kiss me, sweet, and twenty,] This line is obscure; we might right read: Come, a kiss then, sweet and twenty. Yet I know not whether the present reading be not right, for in some counties sweet and twenty, whatever be the meaning, is a phrase of endearment. Johnson. So, in Wit of a Woman, 1604: “Sweet and twenty: all sweet and sweet.” Steevens. Again, in Rowley's When you see Me you know Me, 1632: “God ye good night and twenty, sir.” Again, in the Merry Wives of Windsor: “Good even and twenty.” Malone.

Note return to page 324 7&lblank; make the welkin dance &lblank;] That is, drink till the sky seems to turn around. Johnson. Thus, Mr. Pope: “Ridotta sips and dances, till she see “The doubling lustres dance as fast as she.” Steevens.

Note return to page 325 8&lblank; draw three souls out of one weaver? &lblank;] Our author represents weavers as much given to harmony in his time. I have shewn the cause of it elsewhere. This expression of the power of musick, is familiar with our author. Much ado about Nothing: “Now is his soul ravished. Is it not strange that sheep's-guts should hale souls oüt of men's bodies?”—Why, he says, three souls, is because he is speaking of a catch in three parts. And the peripatetic philosophy, then in vogue, very liberally gave every man three souls. The vegetative or plastic, the animal, and the rational. To this, too, Jonson alludes, in his Poetaster: “What, will I turn shark upon my friends? or my friends' friends? I scorn it with my three souls.” By the mention of these three, therefore, we may suppose it was Shakespeare's purpose, to hint to us those surprizing effects of musick, which the ancients speak of. When they tell us of Amphion, who moved stones and trees; Orpheus and Arion, who tamed savage beasts; and Timotheus, who governed, as he pleased, the passions of his human auditors. So noble an observation has our author conveyed in the ribaldry of this buffoon character. Warburton. In a popular book of the time, Carew's translation of Huarte's Trial of Wits, 1594: there is a curious chapter concerning the three souls, “vegetative, sensitive, and reasonable.” Farmer.

Note return to page 326 9They sing a catch.] This catch is lost. Johnson. A catch is a species of vocal harmony to be sung by three or more persons; and is so contrived that though each sings precisely the same notes as his fellows, yet by beginning at stated periods of time from each other, there results from the performance a harmony of as many parts as there are singers. Compositions of this kind are, in strictness, called Canons in the unison; and as properly, Catches, when the words in the different parts are made to catch or answer each other. One of the most remarkable examples of a true catch is that of Purcel, Let's live good honest lives, in which, immediately after one person has uttered these words: “What need we fear the Pope?” another in the course of his singing fills up a rest which the first makes, with the words, “The devil.” The catch above-mentioned to be sung by sir Toby, sir Andrew, and the Clown, from the hints given of it, appears to be so contrived as that each of the singers calls the other knave in turn; and for this the clown means to apologize to the knight, when he says, that he shall be constrained to call him knave. I have here subjoined the very catch, with the musical notes to which it was sung in the time of Shakespeare, and at the original performance of this Comedy. The evidence of its authenticity is as follows: There is extant a book entitled, “PAMMELIA, Musickes Miscellanie, or mixed Varietie of pleasant Roundelays and delightful catches of 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. parts in one.” Of this book there are at least two editions, the second printed in 1618. In 1609, a second part of this book was published with the title of DEUTEROMELIA, and in this book is contained the catch above given. Sir J. Hawkins.

Note return to page 327 1&lblank; a Cataian, &lblank;] It is in vain to seek the precise meaning of this term of reproach. I have attempted already to explain it in a note on the Merry Wives of Windsor. I find it used again in Love and Honour, by sir W. Davenant, 1649: “Hang him, bold Cataian.” Steevens.

Note return to page 328 2&lblank; Peg-a-Ramsey, &lblank;] I do not understand. Tilly vally was an interjection of contempt, which sir Thomas More's lady is recorded to have had very often in her mouth. Johnson. In Durfey's Pills to purge Melancholy is a very obscene old song, entitled Peg-a-Ramsey. See also Ward's Lives of the Professors of Gresham College, p. 207. Percy. Tilly valley is used as an interjection of contempt in the old play of Sir John Oldcastle; and is likewise a character in a comedy entitled Lady Alimony. Nash mentions Peg of Ramsey among several other ballads, viz. Rogero, Basilino, Turkelony, All the flowers of the Broom, Pepper is black, Green Sleeves, Peggie Ramsie. It appears from the same author, that it was likewise a dance performed to the music of a song of that name. Steevens. Peg-a-Ramsey] Or Peggy Ramsay, is the name of some old song; the following is the tune to it. Peggy Ramsey. Sir J. Hawkins. Three merry men be we, is likewise a fragment of some old song, which I find repeated in Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607, and by B. and Fletcher in The Knight of the Burning Pestle: “Three merry men “And three merry men “And three merry men be we.” Again, in The Bloody Brother of the same authors: “Three merry boys, and three merry boys,   “And three merry boys are we, “As ever did sing, three parts in a string,   “All under the triple tree.” Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “And three merry men, and three merry men, “And three merry men be we a'.” Steevens. &lblank; three merry men we be.] This is a conclusion common to many old songs. One of the most humorous that I can recollect is the following: “The wise men were but seaven, nor more shall be for me; “The muses were but nine, the worthies three times three; “And three merry boyes, and three merry boyes, and three merry boyes are wee. “The vertues they were seven, and three the greater bee; “The Cæsars they were twelve, and the fatall sisters three. “And three merry girles, and three merry girles, and three merry girles are wee.” There are ale-houses in some of the villages in this kingdom, that have the sign of the Three Merry Boys: there was one at Highgate in my memory. Sir J. Hawkins. &lblank; three merry men be we.] May, perhaps, have been taken originally from the song of Robin Hood and the Tanner. Old Ballads, vol. I. p. 89: “Then Robin Hood took them by the hands,     “With a hey, &c.   “And danced about the oak-tree; “For three merry men, and three merry men,   “And three merry men we be.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 329 3Tilly valley, lady! There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady.] Malvolio's use of the word lady brings the ballad to sir Toby's remembrance: Lady, lady, is the burthen, and should be printed as such. My very ingenious friend, Dr. Percy, has given a stanza of it in his Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. I. p. 204. Just the same may be said, where Mercutio applies it, in Romeo and Juliet, act II. sc. iv. Farmer. I found what I once supposed to be a part of this song, in All's lost by Lust, a tragedy by William Rowley, 1633: “There was a nobleman of Spain, lady, lady, “That went abroad and came not again “To his poor lady. “Oh, cruel age, when one brother, lady, lady, “Shall scorn to look upon another “Of his poor lady.” Steevens.

Note return to page 330 4&lblank; There dwelt a man in Babylon—Lady, lady.] This song, or, at least, one with the same burthen, is alluded to in B. Jonson's Magnetic Lady, vol. IV. p. 449: “Com. As true it is, lady, lady i'the song.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 331 5&lblank; coziers &lblank;] A cozier is a taylor, from coudre to sew, part. cousu, French. Johnson. The word is used by Hall in his Virgidemiarum, lib. iv. sat. 2. “Himself goes patch'd like some bare Cottyer, “Lest he might ought his future stock impair.” Steevens.

Note return to page 332 6&lblank; Sneck up!] The modern editors seem to have regarded this unintelligible expression as the designation of a hiccup. It is however used in B. and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, as it should seem, on another occasion: &lblank; “let thy father go sneck up, he shall never come between a pair of sheets with me again while he lives.” Again, in the same play: &lblank; “Give him his money, George, and let him go sneck up.” Again, in Heywood's Fair Maid of the West, 1631: “She shall not rise: go let your master snick up.” Again, in Wily Beguiled: “And if my mistress would be ruled by him, Sophos might go snick up.” Again, in the Fleire, 1615: “&lblank; if not let them snick up.” Again, in Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “I have been believed of your betters, marry snick up.” Again, in The two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “&lblank; if they be not, let them go snick-up.” Again, in Chapman's May Day, 1611: “&lblank; being a magnifico, she shall go snicke up.” Perhaps in the two former of these instances, the words may be corrupted. In Hen. IV. P. I. Falstaff says: “The Prince is a Jack, a Sneak-cup.” i. e. one who takes his glass in a sneaking manner. I think we might safely read sneak cup, at least, in sir Toby's reply to Malvolio. I should not however omit to mention that sacck the door is a north country expression for latch the door. Steevens.

Note return to page 333 7Farewel, dear heart, &c.] This entire song, with some variations, is published by Dr. Percy, in the first volume of his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Steevens.

Note return to page 334 8&lblank; Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?] It was the custom on holidays or saints' days to make cakes in honour of the day. The Puritans called this, superstition, and in the next page Maria says, that Malvolio is sometimes a kind of Puritan. See, Quarlous's Account of Rabbi Busy, act I. sc. iii. in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair. Letherland.

Note return to page 335 9&lblank; rub your chain with crums: &lblank;] I suppose it should be read—rub your chin with crums, alluding to what had been said before that. Malvolio was only a steward, and consequently dined after his lady. Johnson. That stewards anciently wore a chain as a mark of superiority over other servants, may be proved from the following passage in the Martial Maid of B. and Fletcher: “Dost thou think I shall become the steward's chair? Will not these slender haunches shew well in a chain? &lblank;” Again: “Pia. Is your chain right? “Bob. It is both right and just, sir; “For though I am a steward, I did get it “With no man's wrong.” The best method of cleaning any gilt plate, is by rubbing it with crums. Nash, in his piece entitled Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1595, taxes Gabriel Harvey with “having stolen a nobleman's steward's chain, at his lord's installing at Windsor.” Again, in Middleton's comedy of A Mad World my Masters, 1608: “Gag that gaping rascal, though he be my grandsire's chief gentleman in the chain of gold.” To conclude with the most opposite instance of all. See, Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “Yes, and the chippings of the buttery fly after him “To scower his gold chain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 336 1&lblank; rule; &lblank;] Rule is method of life, so misrule is tumult and riot. Johnson. Rule, on this occasion, is something less than common method of life. It occasionally means the arrangement or conduct of a festival or merry-making, as well as behaviour in general. So, in the 27th song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “Cast in a gallant round about the hearth they go, “And at each pause they kiss; was never seen such rule “In any place but here, at bon-fire or at yeule.” Again, in Heywood's English Traveller, 1633: “What guests we harbour, and what rule we keep.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub: “And set him in the stocks for his ill rule.” In this last instance it signifies behaviour. There was formerly an officer belonging to the court, called Lord of Misrule. So, in Decker's Satiromastix: “I have some cousins-german at court shall beget you the reversion of the master of the king's revels, or else be lord of his Misrule now at Christmas.” So, in the Return from Parnassus, 1606: “We are fully bent to be lords of Misrule in the world's wild heath.” In the country, at all periods of festivity, an officer of the same kind was elected. Steevens.

Note return to page 337 2&lblank; a nayword, &lblank;] A nayword is what has been since called a byeword, a kind of proverbial reproach. Steevens.

Note return to page 338 3Possess us, &lblank;] That is, inform us, tell us, make us masters of the matter. Johnson.

Note return to page 339 4&lblank; an affection'd ass, &lblank;] Affection'd, for full of affection. Warburton. Affection'd means affected. In this sense, I believe, it is used in Hamlet—“no matter in it that could indite the author of affection.” i. e. affectation. Steevens.

Note return to page 340 5Sir And. And your horse now &c.] This conceit, though bad enough, shews too quick an apprehension for sir Andrew. It should be given, I believe, to sir Toby; as well as the next short speech: O, 'twill be admirable. Sir Andrew does not usually give his own judgment on any thing, till he has heard that of some other person. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 341 6&lblank; Penthesilea.] i. e. amazon. Steevens.

Note return to page 342 7&lblank; call me Cut.] So, in a Woman's a Weathercock, 1612: “If I help you not to that as cheap as any man in England, call me Cut.” This contemptuous distinction is likewise preserved in the Merry Wives of Windsor: “He will maintain you like a gentlewoman &lblank; “Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a 'squire.” The allusion in both places is to a cut or curtail dog. By the laws of the forest, the dog of an unqualified person was dock'd, while that of a gentleman was allowed the benefit of his tail. Again, in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “I'll meet you there; if I do not, call me Cut.” This expression likewise occurs several times in Heywood's If you know not me you know Nobody, 1633, second part. Steevens.

Note return to page 343 8&lblank; recollected &lblank;] Studied. Warburton. I rather think that recollected signifies, more nearly to its primitive sense, recalled, repeated, and alludes to the practice of composers, who often prolong the song by repetitions. Johnson.

Note return to page 344 9&lblank; favour.] The word favour ambiguously used. Johnson.

Note return to page 345 1&lblank; lost and worn,] Though lost and worn may mean lost and worn out, yet lost and won being, I think, better, these two words coming usually and naturally together, and the alteration being very slight, I would so read in this place with sir T. Hanmer. Johnson.

Note return to page 346 2&lblank; free &lblank;] is, perhaps, vacant, unengaged, easy in mind. Johnson.

Note return to page 347 3&lblank; silly sooth,] It is plain, simple truth. Johnson.

Note return to page 348 4And dallies with the innocence of love,] Dallies has no sense. We should read, tallies, i. e. agrees with; is of a piece with. Warburton. To dally is to play harmlessly. There is no need of change. So, act III. “They that dally nicely with words.” Again, in Swetnam Arraign'd, 1620: “&lblank; he void of fear “Dallied with danger. &lblank;” Again, in sir W. Davenant's Albovine, 1629: “Why dost thou dally thus with feeble motion?” Steevens.

Note return to page 349 5&lblank; old age.] The old age is the ages past, the times of simplicity. Johnson.

Note return to page 350 6My part of death no one so true Did share it.] Though death is a part in which every one acts his share, yet of all these actors no one is so true as I. Johnson.

Note return to page 351 7&lblank; a very opal! &lblank;] A precious stone of almost all colours. Pope. So, Milton describing the walls of heaven: “With opal tow'rs, and battlements adorn'd.” The opal is a gem which varies its appearance as it is viewed in different lights. So, in the Muses' Elizium, by Drayton: “With opals more than any one   “We'll deck thine altar fuller, “For that of every precious stone   “It doth retain some colour.” “In the opal (says P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. b. xxxvii. c. 6.) you shall see the burning fire of the carbuncle or rubie, the glorious purple of the amethyst, the green sea of the emeraud, and all glittering together mixed after an incredible manner.” Steevens.

Note return to page 352 8&lblank; that their business might be every thing, and their intent every where; &lblank;] Both the preservation of the antithesis, and the recovery of the sense, require we should read,—and their intent no where. Because a man who suffers himself to run with every wind, and so makes his business every where, cannot be said to have any intent; for that word signifies a determination of the mind to something. Besides, the conclusion of making a good voyage out of nothing, directs to this emendation. Warburton. An intent every where, is much the same as an intent no where, as it hath no one particular place more in view than another. Revisal.

Note return to page 353 9But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, That nature pranks her in, &lblank;] What is that miracle, and queen of gems? we are not told in this reading. Besides, what is meant by nature pranking her in a miracle? —We should read: But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, That nature pranks, her mind, &lblank; i. e. what attracts my soul, is not her fortune, but her mind, that miracle and queen of gems that nature pranks, i. e. sets out, adorns. Warburton. The miracle and queen of gems is her beauty, which the commentator might have found without so emphatical an enquiry. As to her mind, he that should be captious would say, that though it may be formed by nature it must be pranked by education. Shakespeare does not say that nature pranks her in a miracle, but in the miracle of gems, that is, in a gem miraculously beautiful. Johnson.

Note return to page 354 1I cannot be so answer'd.] The folio reads,—It cannot be, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 355 2&lblank; like a worm i'the bud,] So, in the 5th sonnet of Shakespeare: “Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, “Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name.” Steevens.

Note return to page 356 3She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. &lblank;] Mr. Theobald supposes this might possibly be borrowed from Chaucer: “And her besidis wonder discretlie “Dame pacience ysittinge there I fonde “With facé pale, upon a hill of sonde.” And adds: “If he was indebted, however, for the first rude draught, how amply has he repaid that debt, in heightening the picture! How much does the green and yellow melancholy transcend the old bard's pale face; the monument his hill of sand.”—I hope this critic does not imagine Shakespeare meant to give us a picture of the face of patience, by his green and yellow melancholy; because, he says, it transcends the pale face of patience give us by Chaucer. To throw patience into a sit of melancholy, would be indeed very extraordinary. The green and yellow then belonged not to patience, but to her who sat like patience. To give patience a pale face, was proper: and had Shakespeare described her, he had done it as Chaucer did. But Shakespeare is speaking of a marble statue of patience; Chaucer, of patience herself. And the two representations of her, are in quite different views. Our poet, speaking of a despairing lover, judiciously compares her to patience exercised on the death of friends and relations; which affords him the beautiful picture of patience on a monument. The old bard speaking of patience herself, directly, and not by comparison, as judiciously draws her in that circumstance where she is most exercised, and has occasion for all her virtue; that is to say, under the losses of shipwreck. And now we see why she is represented as sitting on a hill of sand, to design the scene to be the sea-shore. It is finely imagined; and one of the noble simplicities of that admirable poet. But the critic thought, in good earnest, that Chaucer's invention was so barren, and his imagination so beggarly, that he was not able to be at the charge of a monument for his goddess, but left her, like a stroller, sunning herself upon a heap of sand. Warburton. This celebrated image was not improbably first sketched out in the old play of Pericles. I think, Shakespeare's hand may be sometimes seen in the latter part of it, and there only:—two or three passages, which he was unwilling to lose, he has transplanted, with some alteration, into his own plays. “She sat like patience on a monument, “Smiling at grief.” &lblank; In Pericles: “Thou (Mariana) dost look like patience gazing on king's graves, and smiling extremity out of act.” Thus a little before, Mariana asks the bawd, “Are you a woman?” Bawd. “What would you have me to be, if not a woman?” Mar. “An honest woman, or not a woman.”—Somewhat similar to the dialogue between Iago and Othello, relative to Cassio: “I think, that he is honest. “Men should be what they seem, “Or those that be not, would they might seem none.” Again, “She starves the ears she feeds, (says Pericles,) and makes them hungry, the more she gives them speech.” So, in Hamlet: “As if increase of appetite had grown “By what it fed on.” Farmer.

Note return to page 357 4I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too; &lblank;] This was the most artful answer that could be given. The question was of such a nature, that to have declined the appearance of a direct answer, must have raised suspicion. This has the appearance of a direct answer, that the sister died of her love; she (who passed for a man) saying, she was all the daughters of her father's house. But the Oxford editor, a great enemy, as should seem, to all equivocation, obliges her to answer thus: She's all the daughters of my father's house, And I am all the sons &lblank; But if it should be asked now, how the duke came to take this for an answer to his question, to be sure the editor can tell us. Warburton. Such another equivoque occurs in Lylly's Galathea, 1592: “&lblank; my father had but one daughter, and therefore I could have no sister.” Steevens.

Note return to page 358 5&lblank; bide no denay.] Denay is denial. To denay is an antiquated verb sometimes used by Holinshed: so, p. 620: “&lblank; the state of a cardinal which was naied and denaied him.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. ii. ch. 10: “&lblank; thus did say “The thing, friend Battus, you demand, not gladly I denay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 359 6&lblank; nettle of India?] The poet must here mean a zoophyte, called the Urtica Marina, abounding in the Indian seas. “Quæ tacta totius corporis pruritum quendam excitat, unde nomen urticæ est sortita.” Wolfgang. Frangii Hist. Animal. “Urticæ marinæ omnes pruritum quendam movent, et acrimonia suâ venerem extinctam et sopitam excitant.” Johnstoni Hist. Nat. de Exang. Aquat. p. 56. Perhaps the same plant is alluded to by Greene in his Card of Fancy, 1608: “&lblank; the flower of India pleasant to be seen, but whoso smelleth to it, feeleth present smart.” Again, in his Mamillia, 1593: “Consider, the herb of India is of pleasant smell, but whoso cometh to it feeleth present smart.” Again, in P. Holland's translation of the 9th book of Pliny's Nat. Hist. “As for those nettles, there be of them that in the night raunge to and fro, and likewise change their colour. Leaves they carry of a fleshy substance, and of flesh they feed. Their qualities is to raise an itching smart.” The old copy, however, reads—mettle of India, which may mean, my girl of gold, my precious girl; and this is probably the true reading. The change, which I have not disturbed, was made by Mr. Rowe. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0431

Note return to page 360 7&lblank; how he jets] To jet is to strut, to agitate the body by a proud motion. So, in Arden of Feversham, 1592; “Is now become the steward of the house, “And bravely jets it in a silken gown.” Again, in Bussy D'Ambois, 1640: “To jet in others' plumes so haughtily.” Steevens.

Note return to page 361 8&lblank; the lady of the Strachy &lblank;] We should read Trachy, i. e. Thrace; for so the old English writers called it. Mandeville says: “As Trachye and Macedoigne, of the which Alisandre was kyng.” It was common to use the article the before names of places: and this was no improper instance, where the scene was in Illyria. Warburton. What we should read is hard to say. Here is an allusion to some old story which I have not yet discovered. Johnson. Straccio (see Torriano's and Altieri's dictionaries) signifies clouts and tatters, and Torriano in his grammar, at the end of his dictionary, says that straccio was pronounced stratchi. So that it is probable that Shakespeare's meaning was this, that the lady of the queen's wardrobe, had married a yeoman of the king's, who was vastly inferior to her. Smith. Such is Mr. Smith's note; but it does not appear that Strachy was ever an English word, nor will the meaning given it by the Italians be of any use on the present occasion. Perhaps a letter has been misplaced, and we ought to read— starchy; i. e. the room in which linen underwent the once most complicated operation of starching. I do not know that such a word exists; and yet it would not be unanalogically formed from the substantive starch. In Harsnett's Declaration, 1603, we meet with “a yeoman of the sprucery;” i. e. wardrobe; and in the Northumberland Household Book, nursery is spelt, nurcy. Starchy, therefore, for starchery may be admitted. In Romeo and Juliet, the place where paste was made, is called the pastry. The lady who had the care of the linen, may be significantly opposed to the yeoman, i. e. an inferior officer of the wardrobe. While the five different coloured starches were worn, such a term might have been current. In the year 1564, a Dutch woman professed to teach this art to our fair country-women. “Her usual price (says Stowe) was four or five pounds to teach them how to starch, and twenty shillings how to seeth starch.” The alteration was suggested to me by a typographical error in The World toss'd at Tennis, 1620, by Middleton and Rowley; where straches is printed for starches. I cannot fairly be accused of having dealt much in conjectural emendation, and therefore feel the less reluctance to hazard a guess on this desperate passage. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0432

Note return to page 362 9&lblank; blows him.] i. e. puffs him up. So, in Anthony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; on her breast “There is a vent of blood, and something blown.” Steevens.

Note return to page 363 1&lblank; stone-bow, &lblank;] That is, a cross-bow, a bow which shoots stones. Johnson. This instrument is mentioned again in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, 1605—“whoever will hit the mark of profit, must, like those who shoot in stone-bows, wink with one eye.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's King and no King: “&lblank; children will shortly take him “For a wall, and set their stone-bows in his forehead.” Again, in Philaster: “He shall shoot in a stone-bow for me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 364 2&lblank; come down from a day-bed, &lblank;] Spenser, in the first canto of the third book of his Faery Queen, has dropped a stroke of satire on this lazy fashion: “So was that chamber clad in goodly wize, “And round about it many beds were dight, “As whilome was the antique worldes guize, “Some for untimely case, some for delight.” Steevens.

Note return to page 365 3&lblank; wind up my watch, &lblank;] In our author's time watches were very uncommon. When Guy Faux was taken, it was urged as a circumstance of suspicion that a watch was found upon him. Johnson. In the Antipodes, a comedy, 1638, are the following passages: “&lblank; your project against “The multiplicity of pocket watches.” Again: “&lblank; when every puny clerk can carry “The time o' th' day in his breeches.” Again, in the Alchemist: “And I had lent my watch last night to one “That dines to day at the sheriff's.” Steevens.

Note return to page 366 4Though our silence be drawn from us with cares, &lblank;] i. e. though it is the greatest pain to us to keep silence. Yet the Oxford editor has altered it to: Though our silence be drawn from us by the ears. There is some conceit, I suppose, in this, as in many other of his alterations, yet it often lies so deep that the reader has reason to wish he could have explained his own meaning. Warburton. I believe the true reading is: Though our silence be drawn from us with carts, yet peace. In the Two Gentlemen of Verona, one of the Clowns says: “I have a mistress, but who that is, a team of horses shall not pluck from me.” So, in this play: “Oxen an wainropes will not bring them together. Johnson. The old reading is cars, as I have printed it. It is well known that cars and carts have the same meaning.” Steevens. If I were to suggest a word in the place of cares, which I think is a corruption, it should be cables. It may be worth remarking, perhaps, that the leading ideas of Malvolio, in his humour of state, bear a strong resemblance to those of Alnaschar in the Arabian Nights Entertainments. Some of the expressions too are very similar. Tyrwhitt. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0434

Note return to page 367 5What employment have we here?] A phrase of that time, equivalent to our common speech of—What's to do here. The Oxford editor, not attending to this, alters it to, What implement have we here? By which happy emendation, he makes Malvolio to be in the plot against himself; or how could he know that this letter was an implement made use of to catch him? Warburton.

Note return to page 368 6&lblank; her great P's. &lblank;] In the direction of the letter which Malvolio reads, there is neither a C, nor a P, to be found. Steevens. There may, however, be words in the direction which he does not read. To formal directions of two ages ago were often added these words, Humbly Present. Johnson. It would puzzle the learned commentator to discover a C in the words which he supposes to have been added. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0435

Note return to page 369 7&lblank; brock!] i. e. badger. He calls Malvolio so, because he is likely to be hunted and persecuted like that animal. To badger a man, is a phrase still in use for making a fool of him. Steevens.

Note return to page 370 8&lblank; stannyel &lblank;] The name of a kind of hawk is very judiciously put here for a stallion, by sir Thomas Hanmer. Johnson. To check, says Latham in his book of Falconry, is “when crows, rooks, pies, or other birds, coming in view of the hawke, she forsaketh her natural flight, to fly at them.” The stannyel is the common stone-hawk which inhabits old buildings and rocks; in the North called stanchil. I have this information from Mr. Lambe's notes on the ancient metrical history of the battle of Floddon. Steevens.

Note return to page 371 9&lblank; formal capacity. &lblank;] Formal, for common. Warburton. Formal capacity.] i. e. any one in his senses, any one whose capacity is not dis-arranged or out of form. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “Make of him a formal man again.” In Measure for Measure: “These informal women.” Steevens.

Note return to page 372 1Sowter &lblank;] Sowter is here, I suppose, the name of a hound. Sowterly, however, is often employed as a term of abuse. So, in Like will to Like, &c. 1587: “You sowterly knaves, show you all your manners at once?” A sowter was a cobler. So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608: “&lblank; If Apelles that cunning painter suffer the greasy sowter to take a view of his curious work, &c.”. Steevens.

Note return to page 373 2&lblank; as rank as a fox.] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads, not as rank. The other editions, though it be as rank. Johnson.

Note return to page 374 3And O shall end, I hope.] By O is here meant what we now call a hempen collar. Johnson. I believe he means only, it shall end in sighing, in disappointment. So, somewhere else: “How can you fall into so deep an Oh?” So, in Decker's Honest Whore, second part, 1630: “&lblank; the brick house of Castigation, the school where they pronounce no letter well but O!” Again, in Hymen's Triumph, by Daniel, 1623: “Like to an O, the character of woe.” Again, in Greene's Groats-worth of Wit, 1621: “&lblank; comparing every round circle to a groaning O.” Again, in the second canto of the Barons' Wars, by Drayton: “With the like clamour and confused O, “To the dread shock the desp'rate armies go.” Steevens.

Note return to page 375 *&lblank; are born great. &lblank;] The old copy reads—are become great. Steevens.

Note return to page 376 4&lblank; yellow stockings; &lblank;] Before the civil wars, yellow stockings were much worn. In Davenant's play, called The Wits, act IV. p. 208. Works fol. 1673: “You said, my girl, Mary Queasie by name, did find your uncle's yellow stockings in a porringer; nay, and you said she stole them.” Dr. Percy. So Middleton and Rowley in their masque entitled The World Toss'd at Tennis, 1620, where the five different-coloured starches are introduced as striving for superiority. Yellow starch says to white: “&lblank; since she cannot “Wear her own linen yellow, yet she shows “Her love to't, and makes him wear yellow hose.” So, in Heywood's If you know not me you know nobody: “Many of our young married men have ta'en an order to wear yellow garters, points and shoe-tyings, and 'tis thought yellow will grow a custom.” Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “&lblank; because you wear “A kind of yellow stocking.” Again, in his Honest Whore, second part, 1630: “What stockings have you put on this morning, madam? if they be not yellow, change them.” The yeomen attending the earl of Arundel, lord Windsor, and Mr. Fulke Greville, who assisted at an entertainment performed before Q. Elizabeth, on the Monday and Tuesday in Whitsun-week 1581, were dressed in yellow worsted stockings. The book from which I gather this information, was published by Henry Goldwell, gent. in the same year. Steevens.

Note return to page 377 5&lblank; cross-garter'd: &lblank;] So, in the Lover's Melancholy, 1639: “As rare an old youth as ever walked cross-gartered.” Again, in a Woman's a Weathercock, 1612: “Yet let me say and swear in a cross garter, “Pauls never shew'd to eyes a lovelier quarter.” Very rich garters were anciently worn below the [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0436 knee. So, in Warner's Albions England, b. ix. ch. 47: “Garters of listes; but now of silk, some edged deep with gold.” It appears, however, that the ancient puritans affected this fashion. Thus Barton Holyday, speaking of the ill success of his Texnotamia, says: “Had there appear'd some sharp cross-garter'd man “Whom their loud laugh might nick-name puritan, “Cas'd up in factions breeches, and small ruffe, “That hates the surplice, and defies the cuffe. “Then, &c. In a former scene Malvolio was said to be an affecter of puritanism. Steevens.

Note return to page 378 6&lblank; with thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian discovers no more:] Wrong pointed: We should read:—with thee, the fortunate, and happy. Day-light and champian discover no more: i. e. broad day and an open country cannot make things plainer. Warburton. The folio, which is the only ancient copy of this play, reads, the fortunate-unhappy, and so I have printed it. The fortunate-unhappy seems to be the subscription of the letter. Steevens.

Note return to page 379 7&lblank; I will be point-de-vice, the very man. &lblank;] This phrase is of French extraction—a points-devisez. Chaucer uses it in the Romaunt of the Rose: “Her nose was wrought at point-device.” i. e. with the utmost possible exactness. Again, in K. Edward I. 1599: “That we may have our garments point-device.” Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602, b. xiii. c. 76: “And, understandingly, of all discourseth point-device.” Kastril, in the Alchemist, calls his sister Punk devise: and again, in the Tale of a Tub, act III. sc. vii: “&lblank; and if the dapper priest “Be but as cunning point in his devise “As I was in my lie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 380 8&lblank; tray-trip, &lblank;] The word tray-trip I do not understand. Johnson. Tray-trip is mentioned in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, 1616: “Reproving him at tray-trip, sir, for swearing.” Again, in Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable, 1639: &lblank; “mean time, you may play at tray-trip or cockall, for black puddings.” Since our first impression of this work, I found, from an old MS. note to a copy of sir W. Davenant's comedy of the Wits, 1637, that tray-trip was a game at cards: the passage to which it referred was this: “My watch are above, at trea-trip, for a black pudding &c.” Again: “With lanthorn on stall, at trea-trip we play, “For ale, cheese, and pudding, till it be day &c.” Steevens. &lblank; tray-trip, &lblank;] A game much in vogue in our author's days: it is still retained among the lower class of young people in the West of England; and was, I apprehend, the same as now goes under the name of Scotch-hop, which was play'd either upon level ground marked out with chalk in the form of squares or diamonds, or upon a chequered pavement. Jasper Maine in the City Match evidently alludes to the latter: “Aur. Marry a fool, in hope to be a lady-mayoress? “Plot. Why, sister, I “Could name good ladies that are fain to find “Wit for themselves, and knights too. “Aur. I have heard “Of one whose husband was so meek, to be “For need her gentleman-usher, and while she “Made visits above stairs, would patiently “Find himself business at tre-trip i'th' hall.” See Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. X. p. 28. It is not improbable, that, in the simplicity of Shakespeare's time, even a young nobleman might pique himself upon his activity at Scotch-hop, or tray-trip. And from the passage cited from Maine it is clear the game might be play'd by one only. Hawkins. The following passage might incline one to believe that tray-trip was the name of some game at tables, or draughts. “There is great danger of being taken sleepers at tray-trip, if the king sweep suddenly.” Cecil's Correspondence, lett. x. p. 126. Ben Jonson joins tray-trip with mum-chance. Alchemist, p. 126. vol. III: “Nor play with costar-mongers at mum-chance, tray-trip.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 381 9&lblank; aqua vitæ &lblank;] Is the old name of strong waters. Johnson.

Note return to page 382 1&lblank; cross-garter'd, a fashion she detests; &lblank;] Sir Thomas Overbury, in his character of a footman without gards on his coat, represents him as more upright than any crosse-garter'd gentleman-usher. Farmer.

Note return to page 383 2&lblank; by thy tabor? Clown. No, sir, I live by the church.] The Clown, I suppose, wilfully mistakes his meaning, and answers, as if he had been asked whether he lived by the sign of the tabor, the ancient designation of a music shop. Steevens.

Note return to page 384 3&lblank; a cheveril glove &lblank;] i. e. a glove made of kid leather: chevrean, Fr. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; a wit of cheveril &lblank;” Again, in a proverb in Ray's collection: “He hath a conscience like a cheverel's skin.” Steevens.

Note return to page 385 4&lblank; lord Pandarus &lblank;] See our author's play of Troilus and Cressida. Johnson.

Note return to page 386 5&lblank; the haggard, &lblank;] The hawk called the haggard, if not well trained and watched, will fly after every bird without distinction. Steevens. The meaning may be, that he must catch every opportunity, as the wild hawk strikes every bird. But perhaps it might be read more properly: Not like the haggard. He must chuse persons and times, and observe tempers, he must fly at proper game, like the trained hawk, and not fly at large like the unreclaimed haggard, to seize all that comes in his way. Johnson.

Note return to page 387 6But wise men's jolly fall'n, &lblank;] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads, folly shewn. Johnson. The first folio reads: But wisemen's folly falne, quite taint their wit. From whence I should conjecture, that Shakespeare possibly wrote: But wise men, folly-faln, quite taint their wit. i. e. wise men, fallen into folly. Tyrwhitt. The sense is: But wise men's folly, when it is once fallen into extravagance, overpowers their discretion. Revisal. I explain it thus: The folly which he shews with proper adaptation to persons and times, is fit, has its propriety, and therefore produces no censure; but the folly of wise men when it falls or happens, taints their wit, destroys the reputation of their judgment. Johnson.

Note return to page 388 7In former editions: Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Vio. And you, sir. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. &lblank;] I have ventured to make the two knights change speeches in this dialogue with Viola; and, I think, not without good reason. It were a preposterous forgetfulness in the poet, and out of all probability, to make sir Andrew not only speak French, but understand what is said to him in it, who in the first act did not know the English of Pourquoi. Theobald.

Note return to page 389 8&lblank; the list &lblank;] Is the bound, limit, farthest point. Johnson.

Note return to page 390 9Taste your legs, sir, &c.] Perhaps this expression was employed to ridicule the fantastic use of a verb, which is many times as quaintly introduced in the old pieces, as in this play, or in The true Tragedies of Marius and Scilla, 1594: “A climbing tow'r that did not taste the wind.” Again, in Chapman's version of the 21st Odyssey: “&lblank; he now began “To taste the bow, the sharp shaft took, tugg'd hard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 391 1&lblank; most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.] Pregnant for ready. Warburton. Pregnant is a word in this writer of very lax signification. It may here mean liberal. Johnson. It means ready, as in Measure for Measure, act I. sc. i. Steevens.

Note return to page 392 *&lblank; all three ready.] The old copy reads—all three already. Steevens.

Note return to page 393 2After the last enchantment, (you did hear)] Nonsense. Read and point it thus: After the last enchantment you did here, i. e. after the enchantment your presence worked in my affections. Warburton. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0437 The present reading is no more nonsense than the emendation. Johnson.

Note return to page 394 3&lblank; to one of your receiving] i. e. to one of your ready apprehension. She considers him as an arch page. Warburton.

Note return to page 395 4&lblank; a cyprus, &lblank;] Is a transparent stuff. Johnson. So, in No wit like a Woman's, by Middleton: “I have thrown a cypress over my face for fear of sun-burning.” Steevens.

Note return to page 396 5&lblank; a grice;] &lblank;] Is a step, sometimes written greese from degres, French. Johnson. So, in Othello: “Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 397 6Then westward-hoe:] This is the name of a comedy by J. Decker, 1607. He was assisted in it by Webster, and it was acted with great success by the children of Pauls, on whom Shakespeare has bestowed such notice in Hamlet, that we may be sure they were rivals to the company patronized by himself. Steevens.

Note return to page 398 7&lblank; maugre &lblank;] i. e. in spite of. So, in David and Bethsabe, 1599: “Maugre the sons of Ammon and of Syria.” Steevens.

Note return to page 399 8And that no woman has; &lblank;] And that heart and bosom I have never yielded to any woman. Johnson.

Note return to page 400 9&lblank; save I alone.] These three words sir Thomas Hanmer gives to Olivia probably enough. Johnson.

Note return to page 401 1&lblank; as lief be a Brownist, &lblank;] The Brownists were so called from Mr. Robert Browne, a noted separatist in queen Elizabeth's reign. [See Strype's Annals of Queen Elizabeth, vol. III. p. 15, 16, &c.] In his life of Whitgift, p. 323, he informs us, that Browne, in the year 1589, “went off from the separation and came into the communion of the church.” This Browne was descended from an ancient and honourable family in Rutlandshire; his grandfather Francis, had a charter granted him by king Henry VIII. and confirmed by act of parliament; giving him leave to “put on his cap in the presence of the king, or his heirs, or any lord spiritual or temporal in the land, and not to put it off, but for his own ease and pleasure.” Neal's History of New England, vol. I. p. 58. Gray. The Brownists seem, in the time of our author, to have been the constant objects of popular satire. In the old comedy of Ramalley, 1611, is the following stroke at them: &lblank; “of a new sect, and the good professors, will, like the Brownist, frequent gravel-pits shortly, for they use woods and obscure holes already.” Again, in Love and Honour, by sir W. Davenant: “Go kiss her; by this hand, a Brownist is “More amorous &lblank;” Steevens.

Note return to page 402 2&lblank; Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; &lblank;] This is nonsense. We should read, I believe:—Challenge me the count's youth; go, fight with him; hurt him, &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 403 3&lblank; in a martial hand; &lblank;] Martial hand, seems to be a careless scrawl, such as shewed the writer to neglect ceremony. Curst, is petulant, crabbed—a curst cur, is a dog that with little provocation snarls and bites. Johnson.

Note return to page 404 4&lblank; taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, &lblank;] There is no doubt, I think, but this passage is one of those in which our author intended to shew his respect for sir Walter Raleigh, and a detestation of the virulence of his prosecutors. The words quoted, seem to me directly levelled at the attorney-general Coke, who, in the trial of sir Walter, attacked him with all the following indecent expressions:—“All that he did was by thy instigation, thou viper; for I thou thee, thou traytor!” (Here, by the way, are the poet's three thou's.) “You are an odious man.” &lblank;“Is he base? I return it into thy throat, on his behalf.”—“O damnable atheist!”—“Thou art a monster; thou hast an English face, but a Spanish heart.”—“Thou hast a Spanish heart, and thyself art a spider of hell.”—“Go to, I will lay thee on thy back for the confident'st traitor that ever came at a bar, &c.” Is not here all the licence of tongue, which the poet satyrically prescribes to sir Andrew's ink? And how mean an opinion Shakespeare had of these petulant invectives, is pretty evident from his close of this speech: Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write it with a goose-pen no matter.—A keener lash at the attorney for a fool, than all the contumelies the attorney threw at the prisoner, as a supposed traitor! Theobald. The same expression occurs in Shirley's Opportunity, 1640: “&lblank; Does he thou me? “How would he domineer an he were duke!” Steevens.

Note return to page 405 5Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.] The women's parts were then acted by boys, sometimes so low in stature, that there was occasion to obviate the impropriety by such kind of oblique apologies. Warburton. The wren generally lays nine or ten eggs at a time, and the last hatch'd of all birds are usually the smallest and weakest of the whole brood. The old copy, however, reads—wren of mine. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0438

Note return to page 406 6&lblank; I know my lady will strike him; &lblank;] We may suppose, that in an age when ladies struck their servants, the box on the ear which queen Elizabeth is said to have given to the earl of Essex, was not regarded as a transgression against the rules of common behaviour. Steevens.

Note return to page 407 7In former editions: I can no other answer make but thanks, And thanks: and ever-oft good turns Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay; The second line is too short by a whole foot. Then, who ever heard of this goodly double adverb, ever-oft, which seems to have as much propriety as, always-sometimes? As I have restored the passage, it is very much in our author's manner and mode of expression. So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.” And in All's Well that Ends Well: “And let me buy your friendly help thus far, “Which I will over-pay, and pay again “When I have found it.” Theobald. My reading, which is &lblank; And thanks and ever: oft good turns is such as is found in the old copy, only altering the punctuation, which every editor must have done in his turn. Theobald has completed the line, as follows: “And thanks and ever thanks and oft good turns.” Steevens. I would read:—And thanks again, and ever. Tollet.

Note return to page 408 8&lblank; the reliques of this town?] I suppose he means the relicks of saints, or the remains of ancient fabricks. Steevens.

Note return to page 409 9In former editions: I have sent after him: He says he'll come; From whom could my lady have any such intelligence? Her servant, employed upon this errand, was not yet return'd; and, when he does return, he brings word, that the youth would hardly be intreated back. I am persuaded, she was intended rather to be in suspense, and deliberating with herself: putting the supposition that he would come; and asking herself, in that case, how she should entertain him. Theobald. &lblank; he says he'll come;] i. e. I suppose now, or admit now, he says he'll come; which Mr. Theobald, not understanding, alters unnecessarily to, say he will come; in which the Oxford editor has followed him. Warburton.

Note return to page 410 1&lblank; midsummer madness.] Hot weather often turns the brain, which is, I suppose, alluded to here. Johnson. 'Tis midsummer moon with you, is a proverb in Ray's collection, signifying you are mad. Steevens.

Note return to page 411 2&lblank; let thy tongue tang, &c.] Here the old copy reads—langer; but it should be—tang, as I have corrected it from the letter which Malvolio reads in a former scene. Steevens. The second folio reads—tang. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 412 3&lblank; I have lim'd her, &lblank;] I have entangled or caught her, as a bird is caught with birdlime. Johnson.

Note return to page 413 4&lblank; Fellow! &lblank;] This word, which originally signified companion, was not yet totally degraded to its present meaning; and Malvolio takes it in the favourable sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 414 5&lblank; cherry-pit &lblank;] Cherry-pit is pitching cherry-stones into a little hole. Nash, speaking of the paint on ladies' faces, says: “You may play at cherry-pit in their cheeks.” So, in a comedy called The Isle of Gulls, 1611:—“if she were here, I would have a bout at cobnut or cherry-pit.” So, in The Witch of Edmonton: “I have lov'd a witch ever since I play'd at cherry-pit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 415 6&lblank; Hang him, foul collier!] Collier was, in our author's time, a term of the highest reproach. So great were the impositions practiced by the venders of coals, that R. Greene, at the conclusion of his Notable Discovery of Cozenage, 1592, has published what he calls, A pleasant Discovery of the Cosenage of Colliers. Steevens. The devil is called Collier for his blackness; Like will to like, says the Devil to the Collier. Johnson.

Note return to page 416 7&lblank; a finder of madmen: &lblank;] This is, I think, an allusion to the witch-finders, who were very busy. Johnson. &lblank; crown thee for a finder, rather seems to be an allusion to coroners. It is surely a satire on those officers, who so often bring in self-murder, lunacy, to which title many other offences have to the full as just pretensions. Steevens.

Note return to page 417 8More matter for a May morning.] It was usual on the first of May to exhibit metrical interludes of the comic kind, as well as the morris-dance, of which a plate is given at the end of the first part of K. Henry IV. with Mr. Tollet's observations on it. Steevens.

Note return to page 418 9&lblank; He may have mercy upon mine; &lblank;] We may read: He may have mercy upon thine, but my hope is better. Yet the passage may well enough stand without alteration. It were much to be wished that Shakespeare in this and some other passages, had not ventured so near profaneness. Johnson.

Note return to page 419 1&lblank; wear this jewel for me, &lblank;] Jewel does not properly signify a single gem, but any precious ornament or superfluity. Johnson. So, in Markham's Arcadia, 1607: “She gave him a very fine jewel, wherein was set a most rich diamond.” See also, Warton's Hist. of English Poetry, vol. I. p. 121. Steevens.

Note return to page 420 2&lblank; thy intercepter, &lblank;] Thus the old copy. The modern editors read—interpreter. Steevens.

Note return to page 421 3He is knight, dubb'd with unhack'd rapier, and on carpet consideration; &lblank;] That is, he is no soldier by profession, not a knight banneret, dubbed in the field of battle, but, on carpet consideration, at a festivity, or on some peaceable occasion, when knights receive their dignity kneeling not on the ground, as in war, but on a carpet. This is, I believe, the original of the contemptuous term a carpet knight, who was naturally held in scorn by the men of war. Johnson. There was an order of knighthood of the appellation of Knights of the Carpet, though few, or no persons (at least among those whom I have consulted) seem to know any thing about it, or even to have heard of it. I have taken some memoranda concerning the institution, and know that William lord Burgh (of Starborough castle in the county of Surry, father to Thomas lord Burgh, deputy of Ireland, and to sir John Burgh who took the great Caracca ship in 1592) was made a Knight of the Carpet, at Westminster, on the 2d of October, 1553, the day after Queen Mary's coronation: and I met with a list of all who were made so at the same time, in Strype's Memorials, vol. III. Appendix, p. 11. See Anstis's Observations on the Knighthood of the Bath, (Lond. 1725) p. 50. “Upon the accession of Queen Mary to the throne, a commission was granted to the earl of Arundel, empowering him to make knights, but without any additional title, within two days after the date of that patent: which were the two days preceding her coronation. In pursuance hereof, we find the names of the knights created by him, according to the stated form of creating knights of the Bath; and the variety of the ceremonies used, so distinctly related, that it particularly deserves to be consulted in the appendix.” So that Mr. Anstis plainly considers them as being only a species of Knights of the Bath, though without any additional title. If so, the appellation of Knights of the Carpet might be only popular; not their strict or proper title. This, however, was sufficient to induce Shakespeare (who wrote whilst they were commonly spoken of by such an appellation) to use that term, in contrast to a knighthood conferred upon a real soldier, as a reward of military valour. For this valuable note I am happy to confess my obligations to sir James Burrow, of the Temple, F. R. S. and F. S. A. Greene uses the term—Carpet-knights, in contempt of those of whom he is speaking; and in The Downfal of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601, it is employed for the same purpose: &lblank; “soldiers come away, “This Carpet-knight sits carping at our scars.” Again, in Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel, by John Hinde, 1606: &lblank; “Desire took incestuous Delight captive, and little Cupid, like a valiant Carpet-knight, flew into Venus his mother's bosom.” In Barrett's Alvearie 1580: “&lblank; those which do not exercise themselves with some honest affaires, but serve abhominable and filthy idleness, are as we use to call them, Carpet-knightes.” B. ante O. Again, among sir John Harrington's Epigrams. b. iv. ep. 6. Of Merit and Demerit: “That captaines in those days were not regarded, “That only Carpet-knights were well rewarded.” The old copy reads—unhatch'd rapier. Steevens.

Note return to page 422 4&lblank; hob, nob, &lblank;] This adverb is corrupted from hap ne hap; as would ne would, will ne will; that is, let it happen or not; and signifies at random, at the mercy of chance. See Johnson's Dictionary. Steevens.

Note return to page 423 5&lblank; meddle you must, &lblank;] Meddle is here perhaps used in the same sense as the Fr. meler. To mix in fight is a phrase used by our best English poets. Steevens.

Note return to page 424 6Why, man, he's a very devil, &c.] Ben Jonson has imitated this scene in the Silent Woman. The behaviour of sir John Daw, and sir Amorous la Foole, is formed on that of Viola and Aguecheek. Steevens.

Note return to page 425 7&lblank; I have not seen such a virago. &lblank;] Virago cannot be properly used here, unless we suppose sir Toby to mean, I never saw one that had so much the look of woman with the prowess of man. Johnson. The old copy reads—firago. A virago always means a female warrior, or, in low language, a scold, or turbulent woman. In Heywood's Golden Age, 1611, Jupiter enters “like a nymph or virago;” and says: “I may pass for a bona-roba, a rounceval, a virago, or a good manly lass.” If Shakespeare (who knew Viola to be a woman, though sir Toby did not) has made no blunder, Dr. Johnson has supplied the only obvious meaning of the word. Firago may however be a ludicrous term of Shakespeare's coinage. Steevens.

Note return to page 426 8&lblank; the stuck &lblank;] The stuck is a corrupted abreviation of the stoccata, an Italian term in fencing. So, in the Return from Parnassus, 1606: “Here's a fellow, Judicio, that carried the deadly stock in his pen.” Again, in Marston's Mal-content, 1604: “The close stock, O mortal &c.” Again, in Antonio's Revenge, 1602: “I would pass on him with a mortal stock.” Steevens.

Note return to page 427 9&lblank; by the duello &lblank;] i. e. by the laws of the duello, which, in Shakespeare's time, were settled with the utmost nicety. Steevens.

Note return to page 428 1Nay, if you be an undertaker, &lblank;] But why was an undertaker so offensive a character? I believe this is a touch upon the times, which may help to determine the date of this play. At the meeting of the parliament in 1614, there appears to have been a very general persuasion, or jealousy at least, that the king had been induced to call a parliament at that time, by certain persons, who had undertaken, through their influence in the house of commons, to carry things according to his majesty's wishes. These persons were immediately stigmatized with the invidious name of undertakers; and the idea was so unpopular, that the king thought it necessary, in two set speeches, to deny positively (how truly, is another question) that there had been any such undertaking, Parl. Hist. vol. V. p. 277, and 286. Sir Francis Bacon also (then attorney-general) made an artful, apologetical speech in the house of commons upon the same subject; when the house (according to the title of the speech) was in great heat, and much troubled about the undertakers. Bacon's Works, vol. II. p. 236. 4to edit. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 429 2&lblank; o'erflourish'd by the devil.] In the time of Shakespeare, trunks, which are now deposited in lumber-rooms, or other obscure places, were part of the furniture of apartments in which company was received. I have seen more than one of these, as old as the time of our poet. They were richly ornamented on the tops and sides with scroll work, emblematical devices, &c. and were elevated on feet. Shakespeare has the same expression in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; your title to him “Doth flourish the deceit &lblank;” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0443

Note return to page 430 3&lblank; so do not I.] This, I believe, means, I do not yet believe myself, when, from this accident, I gather hope of my brother's life. Johnson.

Note return to page 431 4&lblank; I am afraid this great lubber &lblank;] That is, affectation and foppery will overspread the world. Johnson.

Note return to page 432 5I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, &lblank;] Greek, was as much as to say bawd or pander. He understood the Clown to be acting in that office. A bawdy-house was called Corinth, and the frequenters of it Corinthians, which words occur frequently in Shakespeare, especially in Timon of Athens, and Hen. IV. Yet the Oxford editor alters it to Geck. Warburton.

Note return to page 433 6&lblank; get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase.] This seems to carry a piece of satire upon monopolies, the crying grievance of that time. The grants generally were for fourteen years; and the petitions being referred to a committee, it was suspected that money gained favourable reports from thence. Warburton. Perhaps fourteen years' purchase was in Shakespeare's time, the highest price for land. Lord Bacon's Essay on Usury mentions sixteen years purchase. “I will not give more than according to fifteen years purchase, said a dying usurer to a clergyman, who advised him to study for a purchase of the kingdom of heaven.” Tollet. This passage may be considered as a further corroboration of Mr. Tyrwhitt's conjecture, that Twelfth Night was written in 1614. The grievance of monopolies, though long complained of, had, it should seem, risen to a greater height at that time than ever, for next to the undertakers, it was the great subject of parliamentary debate, during the short session of that year. Malone.

Note return to page 434 7In this uncivil and unjust extent] Extent is, in law, a writ of execution, whereby goods are seized for the king. It is therefore taken here for violence in general. Johnson.

Note return to page 435 8This ruffian hath botch'd up, &lblank;] i. e. swelled and inflamed. A botch being a swelling or abscess. Warburton. I fancy it is only a coarse expression for made up, as a bad taylor is called a botcher, and to botch is to make clumsily Johnson. Dr. Johnson is certainly right. A similar expression occurs in Ant. and Cleopatra: &lblank; “if you'll patch a quarrel “As matter whole you've not to make it with.” Again, in K. Hen. V: “Do botch and bungle up damnation.” Steevens.

Note return to page 436 9He started one poor heart of mine in thee.] I know not whether here be not an ambiguity intended between heart and hart. The sense however is easy enough. He that offends thee, attacks one of my hearts; or, as the ancients expressed it, half my heart. Johnson.

Note return to page 437 1What relish is in this? &lblank;] How does this taste? What judgment am I to make of it? Johnson.

Note return to page 438 2&lblank; sir Topas &lblank;] The name of sir Topas is taken from Chaucer. Steevens.

Note return to page 439 3&lblank; I am not tall enough to become the function well; &lblank;] This cannot be right. The word wanted should be part of the description of a careful man. I should have no objection to read—pale. Tyrwhitt. Tall enough, perhaps means not of sufficient height to overlook a pulpit. Steevens.

Note return to page 440 4&lblank; as to say, a careful man, and a great scholar.] This refers to what went before: I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; it is plain then that Shakespeare wrote:—as to say a graceful man, i. e. comely. To this the Oxford editor says, rectè. Warburton. A careful man I believe means a man who has such a regard for his character as to intitle him to ordination. Steevens.

Note return to page 441 5&lblank; very wittily said &lblank; That, that is, is: &lblank;] This is a very humorous banter of the rules established in the schools, that all reasonings are ex præcognitis & præconcessis, which lay the foundation of every science in these maxims, whatsoever is, is; and it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be; with much trifling of the like kind. Warburton.

Note return to page 442 6&lblank; it hath bay-windows &lblank;] A bay-window is the same as a bow-window; a window in a recess, or bay. See A. Wood's Life, published by T. Hearne, 1730, p. 548 and 553. The following instances may likewise support the supposition: “We are simply stock'd with cloth of tissue cushions “To furnish out bay-windows.” Chaste Maid in Cheap-side, 1620. Again, in Cinthia's Revels by B. Jonson, 1601: &lblank; “retiring myself into a bay-window, &c.” Again, in Stowe's Chronicle of Hen. IV: “As Tho. Montague rested him at a bay-window, a gun was levell'd, &c.” Again, in a small black letter book, entitled, Beware the Cat, 1584, written by Maister Streamer: “I was lodged in a chamber, which had a faire bay-window opening into the garden.” Again, in Heywood the Epigrammatist: “All Newgate windowes, bay-windows they be, “All lookers out there stand at bay we see.” Again, in Middleton's Women beware Women: “'Tis a sweet recreation for a gentlewoman “To stand in a bay-window and see gallants.” Chaucer, in the Assemblie of Ladies mentions bay-windows. Again, in K. Henry the Sixth's Directions for building the Hall at King's College, Cambridge:—“on every side thereof a baie window.” Steevens.

Note return to page 443 7&lblank; constant question.] A settled, a determinate, a regular question. Johnson.

Note return to page 444 8Nay, I am for all waters.] A phrase taken from the actor's ability of making the audience cry either with mirth or grief. Warburton. I rather think this expression borrowed from sportsmen, and relating to the qualifications of a complete spaniel. Johnson. A cloak for all kinds of knavery; taken from the Italian proverb, Tu hai mantillo da ogni acqua. Smith. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement] [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0444

Note return to page 445 9Hey Robin, jolly Robin,] This song should certainly begin: “Hey, jolly Robin, tell to me   “How does thy lady do? &lblank; “My lady is unkind, perdy. &lblank;   “Alas, why is she so?” Farmer.

Note return to page 446 1&lblank; your five wits?] Thus the five senses were anciently called. So, in K. Lear, Edgar says: “Bless thy five wits! Tom's a cold.” Again, in the old morality of Every Man: “And remember beaute, fyve wyttes, strength, and dyscrecyon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 447 2&lblank; property'd me; &lblank;] They have taken possession of me as of a man unable to look to himself. Johnson.

Note return to page 448 3Maintain no words with him, &lblank;] Here the Clown in the dark acts two persons, and counterfeits, by variation of voice, a dialogue between himself and sir Topas.—I will, sir, I will, is spoken after a pause, as if, in the mean time, sir Topas had whispered. Johnson.

Note return to page 449 4&lblank; I am shent, &c.] To shend is to treat roughly. So, in A Mery Geste of Robyn Hoode, bl. l. no date: “With bowes bent and arrowes sharpe, “For to shend that companye.” Again, in the old metrical romance of Guy E. of Warwick, bl. 1. no date: “The emperor saw his men so shent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 450 5&lblank; tell me, are you not mad,—or do you but counterfeit?] If he was not mad, what did he counterfeit by declaring that he was not mad? The fool, who meant to insult him, I think, asks, are you mad, or do you but counterfeit? That is, you look like a madman, you talk like a madman: Is your madness real, or have you any secret design in it? This, to a man in poor Malvolio's state, was a severe taunt. Johnson. &lblank; But tell me truly, are you not mad, indeed, or do you but counterfeit?] This is the reading of the old copy. We should read I apprehend:—are you mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit? or else:—are you not mad indeed, and do you but counterfeit? Malone.

Note return to page 451 6Like to the old vice,] Vice was the fool of the old moralities. Some traces of this character are still preserved in puppet-shows, and by country mummers. Johnson. This character was always acted in a mask; it probably had its name from the old French word vis, for which they now use visage, though they still retain it in vis a vis, which is, literally, face to face. Steevens.

Note return to page 452 7Adieu, goodman, devil.] This last line has neither rhime nor meaning. I cannot but suspect that the fool translates Malvolio's name, and says: Adieu, goodman mean-evil. Johnson. We have here another old catch; apparently, I think, not of Shakespeare. I am therefore willing to receive the common reading of the last line: Adieu, goodman drivel. The name of Malvolio seems to have been form'd by an accidental transposition in the word, Malivolo. I know not whether a part of the preceding line should not be thrown into a question, “pare thy nails, dad?” In Hen. V. we again meet with “this roaring devil i'th' old play; every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger.” Farmer. In the old translation of the Menæchmi, 1595, Menæchmus says to Peniculus: “Away filthie mad drivell, away! I will talk no longer with thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 453 8Yet there he was; and there I found this credit, That he did range, &c.] i. e. I found it justified, credibly vouched. Whether the word credit will easily carry this meaning, I am doubtful. The expression seems obscure; and though I have not disturbed the text, I very much suspect that the poet wrote: &lblank; and there I found this credent. He uses the same term again in the very same sense in the Winter's Tale: “&lblank; Then 'tis very credent, “Thou may'st cojoin with something, and thou dost, &c.” Theobald. &lblank; I found this credit,] Credit, for account, information. The Oxford editor roundly alters it to current; as he does almost every word that Shakespeare uses in an anomalous signification. Warburton.

Note return to page 454 9&lblank; all instance, all discourse,] Instance, for sense; discourse, for reason. Warburton. Instance is example. Johnson.

Note return to page 455 1To any other trust, &lblank;] To any other belief, or confidence, to any other fixed opinion. Johnson.

Note return to page 456 2Whiles &lblank;] Is until. This word is still so used in the northern counties. It is, I think, used in this sense in the preface to the Accidence. Johnson. Almost throughout the old copies of Shakespeare, whiles is given us instead of while. Mr. Rowe, the first reformer of his spelling, made the change. Steevens.

Note return to page 457 3&lblank; truth, &lblank;] Truth is fidelity. Johnson.

Note return to page 458 4&lblank; heavens so shine, &c.] Alluding perhaps to a superstitious supposition, the memory of which is still preserved in a proverbial saying: “Happy is the bride upon whom the sun shines, and blessed the corps upon which the rain falls.” Steevens.

Note return to page 459 5&lblank; so that, conclusions to be as kisses, &lblank;] Though it might be unreasonable to call our poet's fools and knaves every where to account; yet, if we did, for the generality we should find them responsible. But what monstrous absurdity have we here? To suppose the text genuine, we must acknowledge it too wild to have any known meaning: and what has no known meaning, cannot be allowed to have either wit or humour. Besides, the Clown is affecting to argue seriously and in form. I imagine the poet wrote: So that conclusion to be asked, is, i. e. So that the conclusion I have to demand of you is this, if your four, &c. He had in the preceding words been inferring some premisses, and now comes to the conclusion very logically; you grant me, says he, the premisses; I now ask you to grant the conclusion. Warburton. Though I do not discover much ratiocination in the Clown's discourse, yet, methinks, I can find some glimpse of a meaning in his observation, that the conclusion is as kisses. For, says he, if four negatives make two affirmatives, the conclusion is as kisses: that is, the conclusion follows by the conjunction of two negatives, which, by kissing and embracing, coalesce into one, and make an affirmative. What the four negatives are I do not know. I read: So that conclusions be as kisses. Johnson. &lblank; conclusions to be as kisses—If your four negatives make your two affirmatives, &lblank;] One cannot but wonder, that this passage should have perplexed the commentators. In Marloe's Lust's Dominion, the Queen says to the Moor: &lblank; “Come, let's kisse.” Moor. “Away, away.” Queen. “No, no, sayes, I; and twice away, sayes stay.” Sir Philip Sidney has enlarged upon this thought in the sixty-third stanza of his Astrophel and Stella. Farmer.

Note return to page 460 6&lblank; bells of St. Bennet, &lblank;] When in this play he mentioned the bed of Ware, he recollected that the scene was in Illyria, and added, in England; but his sense of the same impropriety could not restrain him from the bells of St. Bennet. Johnson. Shakespeare's improprieties and anachronisms are surely venial in comparison with those of contemporary writers. Lodge, in his True Tragedies of Marius and Sylla, 1594, has mentioned the razors of Palermo and St. Paul's steeple, and has introduced a Frenchman, named Don Pedro, who, in consideration of receiving forty crowns, undertakes to poison Marius. Stanyhurst, the translator of four books of Virgil, in 1582, compares Choræbus to a bedlamite; says, that old Priam girded on his sword Morglay; and makes Dido tell Æneas, that she should have been contented had she been brought to bed even of a cockney. Saltem si qua mihi de te suscepta fuisset Ante fugam soboles &lblank; “&lblank; yf yeet soom progenye from me “Had crawl'd, by the father'd, yf a cockney dandiprat hopthumb.” Steevens.

Note return to page 461 7&lblank; scathful &lblank;] i. e. mischievous, destructive. So, in Decker's If this be not a good Play, the Devil is in it, 1612: “He mickle scath has done me.” Again, in the Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “That offereth scath unto the town of Wakefield.” Steevens.

Note return to page 462 8&lblank; desperate of shame, and state,] Unattentive to his character or his condition, like a desperate man. Johnson.

Note return to page 463 9&lblank; as fat and fulsome &lblank;] We should read:—as flat. Warburton. Fat means dull; so we say a fatheaded fellow; fat likewise means gross, and is sometimes used for obscene; and fat is more congruent to fulsome than flat. Johnson.

Note return to page 464 1Why should I not, had I the heart to do't, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; &lblank;] In this simile, a particular story is presuppos'd; which ought to be known to shew the justness and propriety of the comparison. It is taken from Heliodorus's Æthiopics, to which our author was indebted for the allusion. This Egyptian thief was Thyamis, who was a native of Memphis, and at the head of a band of robbers. Theagenes and Chariclea falling into their hands, Thyamis fell desperately in love with the lady, and would have married her. Soon after, a stronger body of robbers coming down upon Thyamis's party, he was in such fears for his mistress, that he had her shut into a cave with his treasure. It was customary with those barbarians, when they despaired of their own safety, first to make away with those whom they held dear, and desired for companions in the next life. Thyamis, therefore, benetted round with his enemies, raging with love, jealousy, and anger, went to his cave; and calling aloud in the Egyptian tongue, so soon as he heard himself answer'd towards the cave's mouth by a Grecian, making to the person by the direction of her voice, he caught her by the hair with his left hand, and (supposing her to be Chariclea) with his right hand plunged his sword into her breast. Theobald.

Note return to page 465 2&lblank; case?] Case is a word used contemptuously for skin. We yet talk of a fox case, meaning the stuffed skin of a fox. Johnson. So, in Cary's Present State of England, 1626: “Queen Elizabeth asked a knight named Young, how he liked a company of brave ladies?—He answered, as I like my silver-haired conies at home; the cases are far better than the bodies.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0447

Note return to page 466 3Then he's a rogue, and a past-measure pavin:] This is the reading of the old copy, and probably right, being an allusion to the quick measure of the pavin, a dance in Shakespeare's time. Gray. A passy-measure pavin may perhaps mean a pavin danced out of time. Sir Toby might call the surgeon by this title, because he was drunk at a time when he should have been sober, and in a condition to attend on the wounded knight. Panyn however is the reading of the old copy, though the u in it being reversed, the modern editors have been contented to read— &lblank; and a past-measure painim. This dance called the pavyn is mentioned by B. and Fletcher in the Mad Lover: “I'll pipe him such a pavan.” And in Stephen Gosson's School of Abuse, containing a pleasaunt invective against Poets, Pipers, &c. 1579, it is enumerated, as follows, amongst other dances: “Dumps, pavins, galliardes, measures, fancyes, or newe streynes.” I do not, at last, see how the sense will completely quadrate on the present occasion. Sir W. Davenant, in one of his interludes, mentions “a doleful pavin.” In the Cardinal, by Shirley, 1652: “Who then shall dance the pavan with Osorio?” Again, in 'Tis pity she's a Whore, by Ford, 1633: “I have seen an ass and a mule trot the Spanish pavin with a better grace.” Again, in Decker's Fortunatus, 1600: “La pavyne Hispaniola sea vestra musica, y gravidad y majestad.” Lastly, in Shadwell's Virtuoso, 1676: “A grave pavin or almain, at which the black Tarantula only moved; it danced to it with a kind of grave motion much like the benchers at the revels.” In 1604, John Dowland the celebrated lutanist published “Seven teares figured in seven passionate pavans, sett for the lute, &c.” In a comedy by Middleton, called More Dissemblers besides Women, is mentioned: “A strain or two of passa-measures galliard.” Again, in Lingua, &c. 1607: “Prithee sit still; thou must dance nothing but the passing-measures.” Steevens. Bailey's Dictionary says, pavan is the lowest sort of instrumental music; and when this play was written, the pavin and the passamezzo might be in vogue only with the vulgar, as with Falstaff and Doll Tearsheet; and hence sir Toby may mean,—he is a rogue and a mean low fellow. Tollet. Then he's a rogue, and a passy measure pavin. I hate a drunken rogue.] B. Jonson also mentions the pavin, and calls it a Spanish dance, Alchemist, p. 97. but it seems to come originally from Padua, and should rather be written pavane, as a corruption of paduana. A dance of that name (saltatio paduana) occurs in an old writer, quoted by the annotator on Rabelais, b. v. c. 30. Passy measures is undoubtedly a corruption, but I know not how it should be rectified. Tyrwhitt. The pavan from pavo a peacock, is a grave and majestick dance. The method of dancing it was antiently by gentlemen dressed with a cap and sword, by those of the long robe in their gowns, by princes in their mantles, and by ladies in gowns with long trains, the motion whereof in the dance, resembled that of a peacock's tail. This dance is supposed to have been invented by the Spaniards, and its figure is given with the characters for the steps in the Orchesographia of Thoinet Arbeau. Every pavan has its galliard, a lighter kind of air, made out of the former. The courant, the jig, and the hornpipe are sufficiently known at this day. Of the passamezzo little is to be said, except that it was a favourite air in the days of Q. Elizabeth. Ligon in his history of Barbadoes, mentions a passamezzo galliard, which in the year 1647, a Padre in that island played to him on the lute; the very same, he says, with an air of that kind which in Shakespeare's play of Hen. IV. was originally played to sir John Falstaff and Doll Tearsheet, by Sneak, the musician, there named. This little anecdote Ligon might have by tradition, but his conclusion, that because it was played in a dramatic representation of the history of Hen. IV. it must be so ancient as his time, is very idle and injudicious. —Pussy-measure is therefore undoubtedly a corruption from passamezzo. Sir J. Hawkins. With the help of sir John Hawkins's explanation of passy-measure, I think I now see the meaning of this passage. The second folio reads—after a passy measures pavin.—So that I should imagine the following regulation of the whole speech would not be far from the truth. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. i. e. next to a passy-measure or a pavin, &c. It is in character, that sir Toby should express a strong dislike of serious dances, such as the passamezzo and the pavan are described to be. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 467 4A natural perspective &lblank;] A perspective seems to be taken for shows exhibited through a glass with such lights as make the pictures appear really protuberant. The Duke therefore says, that nature has here exhibited such a show, where shadows seem realities; where that which is not appears like that which is. Johnson. I apprehend this may be explained by a quotation from a duodecimo book called Humane Industry, 1661, p. 76 and 77: “It is a pretty art that in a pleated paper and table furrowed or indented, men make one picture to represent several faces—that being viewed from one place or standing, did shew the head of a Spaniard, and from another, the head of an ass.”—“A picture of a chancellor of France presented to the common beholder a multitude of little faces—but if one did look on it through a perspective, there appeared only the single pourtraicture of the chancellor himself.” Thus that, which is, is not, or in a different position appears like another thing. This seems also to explain a passage in K. Hen. V. act V. sc. ii: “Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turn'd into a maid.” Tollet.

Note return to page 468 5A most extracting frenzy &lblank;] i. e. a frenzy that drew me away from every thing but its own object. Warburton. Till some example is produced of the word extracting being used in the sense in which Dr. Warburton explains it, I should wish to read—distracting, which I conjecture, from the preceding line, to have been the author's word. Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0449

Note return to page 469 6&lblank; you must allow vox.] I am by no means certain that I understand this passage, which, indeed, the author of the Revisal pronounces to have no meaning. I suppose the Clown begins reading the letter in some fantastical manner, on which Olivia asks him, if he is mad. No, madam, says he, I do but barely deliver the sense of this madman's epistle; if you would have it read as it ought to be, that is, with such a frantic accent and gesture as a madman would read it, you must allow vox, i. e. you must furnish the reader with a voice, or, in other words, read it yourself. Steevens.9Q0450

Note return to page 470 7&lblank; but to read his right wits, &lblank;] Perhaps so,—but to read his wits right is to read thus. To represent his present state of mind, is to read a madman's letter, as I now do, like a madman. Johnson.

Note return to page 471 8One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,] The word on't, in this place, is mere nonsense. I doubt not the poet wrote: &lblank; an't so please you. Revisal. This is well conjectured; but on't may relate to the double character of sister and wife. Johnson.

Note return to page 472 9&lblank; cross-garter'd—yellow stockings, &lblank;] In an entertainment called Cupid and Death, by Shirley, 1653, a Host enters in yellow stockings and cross-garter'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 473 1&lblank; lighter &lblank;] People of less dignity or importance. Johnson.

Note return to page 474 2&lblank; geck. &lblank;] A fool. Johnson. So, in the vision at the conclusion of Cymbeline: “And to become the geck and scorn   “Of th' other's villainy.” Again, in Ane verie excellent and delectabill Treatise intitulit philotus, &c. 1603: “Thocht he be auld, my joy, quhat reck, “When he is gane give him ane geck, “And take another be the neck.” Again: “The carle that hecht sa weill to treit you,   “I think sall get ane geck.” Steevens.

Note return to page 475 3&lblank; here were presuppos'd] Presuppos'd, for imposed. Warburton. Presuppos'd rather seems to mean previously pointed out for thy imitation; or such as it was supposed thou would'st assume after thou hadst read the letter. The supposition was previous to the act. Steevens.

Note return to page 476 4Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceiv'd against him: &lblank;] Surely we should rather read:—conceiv'd in him. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 477 5&lblank; at sir Toby's great importance;] Importance is importunacy, importunement. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “At your important letters.” Steevens. So, in Heywood's History of Women, 1624: “Their importancy so far prevailed, that the first decree was quite abrogated.” Malone.

Note return to page 478 6&lblank; how have they baffled thee?] See Mr. Tollet's note on a passage in the first scene of the first act of K. Rich. II: “I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here.” Steevens.

Note return to page 479 7&lblank; but do you remember, madam, &lblank;] As the Clown is speaking to Malvolio, and not to Olivia, I think this passage should be regulated thus—but do you remember?—Madam, why laugh you, &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 480 8&lblank; convents,] Perhaps we should read—consents. To convent, however, is to assemble; and therefore, the count may mean, when the happy hour calls us again together. Steevens.

Note return to page 481 9When that I was and a little tiny boy,] Here again we have an old song, scarcely worth correction. 'Gainst knaves and thieves must evidently be, against knave and thief.— When I was a boy, my folly and mischievous actions were little regarded: but when I came to manhood, men shut their gates against me, as a knave and a thief. Sir Tho. Hanmer rightly reduces the subsequent words, beds and beads, to the singular number: and a little alteration is still wanting at the beginning of some of the stanzas. Mr. Steevens observes in a note at the end of Much ado about Nothing, that the play had formerly passed under the name of Benedict and Beatrix. It seems to have been the court-fashion to alter the titles. A very ingenious lady, with whom I have the honour to be acquainted, Mrs. Askew of Queen's Square, has a fine copy of the second folio edition of Shakespeare, which formerly belonged to king Charles I. and was a present from him to his Master of the Revels, sir Thomas Herbert. Sir Thomas has altered five titles in the list of the plays, to “Benedick and Betrice, —Pyramus and Thisby,—Rosalinde,—Mr. Paroles, and Malvolio.” It is lamentable to see how far party and prejudice will carry the wisest men, even against their own practice and opinions. Milton, in his &grE;&gri;&grk;&gro;&grn;&gro;&grk;&grl;&graa;&grs;&grt;&gre;&grst; censures king Charles for reading, “one, whom,” says he, “we well knew was the closet companion of his solitudes, William Shakespeare.” Farmer. Dr. Farmer might have observed, that the alterations of the titles are in his majesty's own hand-writing, materially differing from sir Thomas Herbert's, of which the same volume affords more than one specimen. I learn from another manuscript note in it, that John Lowine acted K. Hen. VIII. and John Taylor the part of Hamlet. The book is now in my possession. To the concluding remark of Dr. Farmer, may be added the following passage from An Appeal to all rational Men concerning King Charles's Trial, by John Cooke, 1649: “Had he but studied scripture half so much as Ben Jonson or Shakespeare, he might have learnt that when Amaziah was settled in the kingdom, he suddenly did justice upon those servants which killed his father Joash, &c.” With this quotation I was furnished by Mr. Malone. A quarto volume of plays attributed to Shakespeare, with his majesty's cypher on the back of it, is preserved in Mr. Garrick's collection. Steevens. This play is in the graver part elegant and easy, and in some of the lighter scenes exquisitely humorous. Ague-cheek is drawn with great propriety, but his character is, in a great measure, that of natural fatuity, and is therefore not the proper prey of a satirist. The soliloquy of Malvolio is truly comic; he is betrayed to ridicule merely by his pride. The marriage of Olivia, and the succeeding perplexity, though well enough contrived to divert on the stage, wants credibility, and fails to produce the proper instruction required in the drama, as it exhibits no just picture of life. Johnson.

Note return to page 482 1The Winter's Tale.] This play, throughout, is written in the very spirit of its author. And in telling this homely and simple, though agreeable, country tale, Our sweetest Shakespeare, fancy's child, Warbles his native wood-notes wild. This was necessary to observe in mere justice to the play; as the meanness of the fable, and the extravagant conduct of it, had misled some of great name into a wrong judgment of its merit; which, as far as it regards sentiment and character, is scarce inferior to any in the whole collection. Warburton. At Stationers' Hall, May 22. 1594, Edward White entered “A booke entitled A Wynter Nyght's Pastime.” Steevens. The story of this play is taken from the Pleasant History of Dorastus and Fawnia, written by Robert Greene. Johnson. In this novel, the king of Sicilia whom Shakespeare names [Table: 1Kb] Leontes, is called Egistus. Polixenes K. of Bohemia Pandosto. Mamillius P. of Sicilia Garinter. Florizel P. of Bohemia Dorastus. Camillo Franion. Old Shepherd Porrus. Hermione Bellaria. Perdita Faunia. Mopsa Mopsa. The parts of Antigonus, Paulina, and Autolycus, are of the poet's own invention; but many circumstances of the novel are omitted in the play. Steevens. None of our author's plays has been more censured for the breach of dramatic rules than the Winter's Tale. In confirmation of what Mr. Steevens has remarked in another place—“that Shakespeare was not ignorant of these rules, but disregarded them”—it may be observed, that the laws of the drama are clearly laid down by a writer once universally read and admired, sir Philip Sydney, who, in his Defence of Poesy, has pointed out the very improprieties which our author has fallen into, in this play. After mentioning the defects of the tragedy of Gorboduck, he adds: “But if it be so in Gorboducke, how much more in all the rest, where you shall have Asia on the one side, and Affricke of the other, and so manie other under kingdomes, that the player when he comes in, must ever begin with telling where he is, or else the tale will not be conceived.—Now of time they are much more liberal. For ordinarie it is, that two young princes fall in love, after many traverses she is got with childe, delivered of a faire boy: he is lost, groweth a man, falleth in love, and is readie to get another childe, and all this in two houres space: which how absurd it is in sence, even sence may imagine.” This play is sneered at by B. Jonson, in the induction to Bartholomew Fair, 1614:—“If there be never a servant monster in the fair, who can help it, nor a nest of antiques? He is loth to make nature afraid in his plays, like those that beget Tales, Tempests, and such like drolleries.” By the nest of antiques, the twelve satyrs who are introduced at the sheep-shearing festival, are alluded to. Malone. The Winter's Tale may be ranked among the historic plays of Shakespeare, though not one of his numerous criticks and commentators have discovered the drift of it. It was certainly intended (in compliment to queen Elizabeth) as an indirect apology for her mother Anne Boleyn. The address of the poet appears no where to more advantage. The subject was too delicate to be exhibited on the stage without a veil; and it was too recent, and touched the queen too nearly, for the bard to have ventured so home an allusion on any other ground than compliment. The unreasonable jealousy of Leontes, and his violent conduct in consequence, form a true portrait of Henry the Eighth, who generally made the law the engine of his boisterous passions. Not only the general plan of the story is most applicable, but several passages are so marked, that they touch the real history nearer than the fable. Hermione on her trial says: “&lblank; for honour, “'Tis a derivative from me to mine, “And only that I stand for.“ This seems to be taken from the very letter of Anne Boleyn to the king before her execution, where she pleads for the infant princess his daughter. Mamillius, the young prince, an unnecessary character, dies in his infancy; but it confirms the allusion, as queen Anne, before Elizabeth, bore a still-born son. But the most striking passage, and which had nothing to do in the tragedy, but as it pictured Elizabeth, is, where Paulina, describing the new-born princess, and her likeness to her father, says: “She has the very trick of his frown.” There is one sentence indeed so applicable, both to Elizabeth and her father, that I should suspect the poet inserted it after her death. Paulina, speaking of the child, tells the king: “&lblank; 'Tis yours; “And might we lay the old proverb to your charge, “So like you, 'tis the worse.” &lblank; The Winter Evening's Tale was therefore in reality a second part of Henry the Eighth. Walpole. Sir Thomas Hanmer gave himself much needless concern that Shakespeare should consider Bohemia as a maritime country. He would have us read Bythinia: but our author implicitly copied the novel before him. Dr. Grey, indeed, was apt to believe that Dorastus and Faunia might rather be borrowed from the play, but I have met with a copy of it, which was printed in 1588.—Cervantes ridicules these geographical mistakes, when he makes the princess Micomicona land at Ossuna.—Corporal Trim's king of Bohemia “delighted in navigation, and had never a sea-port in his dominions;” and my lord Herbert tells us, that De Luines the prime minister of France, when he was embassador there, demanded, whether Bohemia was an inland country, or lay “upon the sea?”—There is a similar mistake in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, relative to that city and Milan. Farmer.

Note return to page 483 2&lblank; our entertainment &c.] Though we cannot give you equal entertainment, yet the consciousness of our good-will shall justify us. Johnson.

Note return to page 484 3&lblank; royally attorney'd, &lblank;] Nobly supplied by substitution of embassies, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 485 4&lblank; as over a vast: &lblank;] Thus the folio 1623. The folio 1632:—over a vast sea. I have since found that Hanmer attempted the same correction, though I believe the old reading to be the true one. Vastum is the ancient term for waste uncultivated land. Over a vast, therefore means at a great and vacant distance from each other. Vast, however, may be used for the sea, in Pericles Prince of Tyre: “Thou God of this great vast, rebuke the surges.” Steevens.

Note return to page 486 5&lblank; physicks the subject, &lblank;] Affords a cordial to the state; has the power of assuaging the sense of misery. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “The labour we delight in, physicks pain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 487 6&lblank; that may blow No sneaping winds &lblank;] This is nonsense, we should read it thus: &lblank; may there blow; &c. He had said he was apprehensive that his presence might be wanted at home; but, left this should prove an ominous speech, he endeavours, as was the custom, to avert it by a deprecatory prayer: &lblank; May there blow No sneaping winds—to make us say, This was put forth too truly. &lblank; But the Oxford editor, rather than be beholden to this correction, alters it to: &lblank; there may blow Some sneaping winds. &lblank; and so destroys the whole sentiment. Warburton. That may blow, is a Gallicism, for may there blow. Johnson. &lblank; That may blow No sneaping winds at home] Dr. Warburton calls this nonsense; and Dr. Johnson tells us it is a Gallicism. It happens however to be both sense and English. That, for Oh! That, is not uncommon. In an old translation of the famous Alcoran of the Franciscans: “St. Francis observing the holiness of friar Juniper, said to the priors, That I had a wood of such Junipers!” And, in The Two Noble Kinsmen: &lblank; “In thy rumination, “That I poor man might eftsoones come between!” And so in other places. This is the construction of the passage in Romeo and Juliet: “That runaway's eyes may wink!” Which in other respects Mr. Steevens has rightly interpreted. Farmer.

Note return to page 488 7&lblank; this satisfaction] We had satisfactory accounts yesterday of the state of Bohemia. Johnson.

Note return to page 489 8&lblank;I'll give him my commission,] We should read: &lblank; I'll give you my commission, The verb let, or hinder, which follows, shews the necessity of it: for she could not say she would give her husband a commission to let or hinder himself. The commission is given to Polixenes, to whom she is speaking, to let or hinder her husband. Warburton.

Note return to page 490 9&lblank; behind the gest] Mr. Theobald says: he can neither trace, nor understand the phrase, and therefore thinks it should be just: But the word gest is right, and signifies a stage or journey. In the time of royal progresses the king's stages, as we may see by the journals of them in the herald's office, were called his gests; from the old French word giste, diversorium. Warburton. In Strype's Memorials of Archbishop Cranmer, p.283.—The archbishop intreats Cecil, “to let him have the new-resolved-upon gests, from time to the end, that he might from time to time know where the king was.” Holland, in his translation of Pliny, says, p. 282:—“These quailes have their set gists, to wit, ordinarie resting and baiting places.” Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “It (i. e. the court) remov'd last to the shop of a millener; “The gests are so set down, because you ride.” Again, in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, 1599: “Castile, and lovely Elinor with him, “Have in their gests resolved for Oxford town.” Again, in Vittoria Corombona, 1612: &lblank; “Do like the gests in the progress, “You know where you shall find me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 491 1&lblank; yet, good heed, Leontes.] i. e. you take good heed, Leontes, to what I say. Which phrase, Mr. Theobald not understanding, he alters it to, good deed. Warburton. &lblank; yet good-deed, Leontes, &lblank; is the reading of the old copy, and signifies indeed, in very deed, as Shakespeare in another place expresses it. Good deed is used in the same sense by the earl of Surry, sir John Hayward, and Gascoigne. Steevens. The second folio reads—good heed, which, I believe, is right. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 492 2&lblank; a jar o'the clock &lblank;] A jar is, I believe, a single repetition of the noise made by the pendulum of a clock; what children call the ticking of it. So, in K. Richard III: “My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar.” Steevens. A jar perhaps means a minute, for I do not suppose that the ancient clocks ticked or noticed the seconds. See Holinshed's Description of England, p. 241. Tollet.

Note return to page 493 3&lblank; lordings &lblank;] This diminutive of lord is often used by Chaucer. So, in the prologue to his Canterbury Tales, the Host says to the company, v. 790, late edit. “Lordinges (quod he) now herkeneth for the beste.” Steevens.

Note return to page 494 4&lblank; the imposition clear'd, Hereditary ours.] i. e. setting aside original sin; bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, we might have boldly protested our innocence to heaven. Warburton.

Note return to page 495 5Grace to boot! Of this make no conclusion; lest you say, &c.] Polixenes had said, that since the time of childhood and innocence, temptations had grown to them; for that, in that interval, the two queens were become women. To each part of this observation the queen answers in order. To that of temptations she replies, Grace to boot! i. e. though temptations have grown up, yet I hope grace too has kept pace with them. Grace to boot, was a proverbial expression on these occasions. To the other part, she replies, as for our tempting you, pray take heed you draw no conclusion from thence, for that would be making your queen and me devils, &c. Warburton. The explanation is good; but I have no great faith in the existence of such a proverbial expression. Steevens.

Note return to page 496 6With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;] Thus this passage has been always printed; whence it appears, that the editors did not take the poet's conceit. They imagined that, But to th' goal, meant, but to come to the purpose; but the sense is different, and plain enough when the line is pointed thus: &lblank; ere With spur we heat an acre, but to the goal. i. e. good usage will win us to any thing; but, with ill, we stop short, even there where both our interest and our inclination would otherwise have carried us. Warburton. I have followed the old copy, the pointing of which appears to afford as apt a meaning as that produced by the change recommended by Dr. Warburton. Steevens.

Note return to page 497 7And clepe thyself my love; &lblank;] The old edition reads—clap thyself. This reading may be explained: She open'd her hand, to clap the palm of it into his, as people do when they confirm a bargain. Hence the phrase—to clap up a bargain, i. e. make one with no other ceremony than the junction of hands. So, in Ram-alley or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; Speak, widow, is't a match? “Shall we clap it up?” Again, in a Trick to catch the old One, 1616: “Come, clap hands, a match.” Again, in K. Hen. V: “&lblank; and so clap hands, and a bargain.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0454

Note return to page 498 8The mort o'the deer; &lblank;] A lesson upon the horn at the death of the deer. Theobald. So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608: “&lblank; He that bloweth the mort before the death of the buck, may very well miss of his fees.” Again, in the oldest copy of Chevy Chase: “The blewe a mort uppone the bent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 499 9Why, that's my bawcock. &lblank;] Perhaps from beau and coq. It is still said in vulgar language that such a one is a jolly cock, a cock of the game. The word has already occurred in Twelfth Night, and is one of the titles by which Pistol speaks of K. Henry the Fifth. Steevens.

Note return to page 500 1We must be neat; &lblank;] Leontes, seeing his son's nose smutch'd, cries, we must be neat, then recollecting that neat is the ancient term for horned cattle, he says, not neat, but cleanly. Johnson. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 3: “His large provision there of flesh, of fowl, of neat.” Steevens.

Note return to page 501 2&lblank; Still virginalling] Still playing with her fingers, as a girl playing on the virginals. Johnson. A virginal, as I am informed, is a very small kind of spinnet. Queen Elizabeth's virginal book is yet in being, and many of the lessons in it have proved so difficult, as to baffle our most expert players on the harpsichord. “When we have husbands, we play upon them like virginal jacks, they must rise and fall to our humours, or else they'll never get any good strains of music out of one of us.” Decker's Untrussing the Humorous Poet. Again, in Ram-alley or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Where be these rascals that skip up and down “Like virginal jacks?” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “This was her schoolmaster, and taught her to play upon the virginals, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 502 3Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,] Pash is kiss. Pax. Spanish. i. e. thou want'st a mouth made rough by a beard, to kiss with. Shoots are branches, i. e. horns. Leontes is alluding to the ensigns of cuckoldom. A mad-brain'd boy is, however, call'd a mad pash in Cheshire. Steevens. A rough pash seems to mean a rough hide or skin. Perhaps it comes from the plural of the French word peau, or from a corruption of the Teutonic, peltz, a pelt. Tollet.

Note return to page 503 4As o'er-dy'd blacks, &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer understands, blacks, died too much, and therefore rotten. Johnson. It is common with tradesmen to dye their faded or damaged stuffs, black. O'er-dy'd blacks may mean those which have received a dye over their former colour. There is a passage in The old Law of Massenger, which might lead us to offer another interpretation: &lblank; “Blacks are often such dissembling mourners “There is no credit given to't, it has lost “All reputation by false sons and widows “I would not hear of blacks.” It seems that blacks was the common term for mourning. So, in a Mad World my Masters, 1608: “&lblank; in so many blacks “I'll have the church hung round &lblank;” Black however will receive no other hue without discovering itself through it. “Lanarum nigræ nullum colorem bibunt.” Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. viii. Steevens.

Note return to page 504 5No bourn &lblank;] Bourn is boundary. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; from whose bourn “No traveller returns &lblank;” Steevens.

Note return to page 505 6&lblank; welkin-eye: &lblank;] Blue an eye of the same colour with the welkin, or sky. Johnson.

Note return to page 506 7&lblank; my collop! &lblank;] So, in the First Part of K. Henry VI: “God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh.” Steevens.

Note return to page 507 8Affection! thy intention stabs the center.] Instead of this line, which I find in the folio, the modern editors have introduced another of no authority: Imagination! thou dost stab to the center. Mr. Rowe first made the exchange. I am not certain that I understand the reading which I have restored. Affection, however, I believe, signifies imagination. Thus, in the Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; affections, ‘Masters of passion, sway it, &c.” i. e. imaginations govern our passions. Intention is as Mr. Locke expresses it, “when the mind with great earnestness, and of choice, fixes its view on any idea, considers it on every side, and will not be called off by the ordinary solicitation of other ideas.” This vehemence of the mind seems to be what affects Leontes so deeply, or, in Shakespeare's language,—stabs him to the center. Steevens.

Note return to page 508 9Thou dost make possible things not so held,] i. e. thou dost make those things possible, which are conceived to be impossible. Johnson.

Note return to page 509 1&lblank; credent,] i. e. credible. So, in Measure for Measure, act V. sc. v: “For my authority bears a credent bulk.” Steevens.

Note return to page 510 2What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?] This line seems rather to belong to the preceding short speech of Polixenes, than to Leontes. Steevens.

Note return to page 511 3Will you take eggs for money?] This seems to be a proverbial expression, used when a man sees himself wronged and makes no resistance. Its original, or precise meaning, I cannot find, but I believe it means, will you be a cuckold for hire. The cuckow is reported to lay her eggs in another bird's nest; he therefore that has eggs laid in his nest, is said to be cucullatus, cuckow'd, or cuckold. Johnson. The meaning of this is, will you put up affronts? The French have a proverbial saying, A qui vendez vous coquilles? i. e. whom do you design to affront? Mamillius's answer plainly proves it. Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight. Smith. I meet with Shakespeare's phrase in a comedy, call'd A Match at Midnight, 1633:—“I shall have eggs for my money; I must hang myself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 512 4&lblank; happy man be his dole! &lblank;] May his dole or share in life be to be a happy man. Johnson. The expression is proverbial. Dole was the term for the allowance of provision given to the poor, in great families. So, in Greene's Tu Quoque, 1599: “Had the women puddings to their dole?” Steevens.

Note return to page 513 5Apparent &lblank;] That is, heir apparent, or the next claimant. Johnson.

Note return to page 514 6&lblank; a fork'd one &lblank;] That is, a horned one; a cuckold. Johnson.

Note return to page 515 7&lblank; it still came home.] This is a sea-faring expression, meaning, the anchor would not take hold. Steevens.

Note return to page 516 8&lblank; made His business more material.] i. e. the more requested him to stay, the more urgent he represented that business to be which summoned him away, Steevens.

Note return to page 517 9They're here with me already; &lblank;] Not Polixenes and Hermione, but casual observers, people accidentally present. Thirlby.

Note return to page 518 1&lblank; whispering, rounding,] i. e. rounding in the ear, a phrase in use at that time. But the Oxford editor not knowing that, alters the text to, whisp'ring round. Warburton. To round in the ear, to whisper, or to tell secretly. The expression is very copiously explained by M. Casaubon, in his book de Ling. Sax. Johnson. The word appears to have been sometimes written—rowning. So, in one of the articles against cardinal Wolsey: “&lblank; come daily to your grace, rowning in your ear and blowing upon your grace with his perillous and infective breath.” Again, in Speed's Hist. of Great Britaine, 1614, p. 906: “&lblank; not so much as rowning among themselves, by which they might seem to commune what was best to do.” Malone.

Note return to page 519 2&lblank; gust it &lblank;] i. e. taste it. Steevens. “Dedecus ille domus sciet ultimus.” Juv. Sat. 10. Malone.

Note return to page 520 3&lblank; is soaking, &lblank;] Dr. Gray would read—in soaking; but I think without necessity. Thy conceit is of an absorbent nature, will draw in more, &c. seems to be the meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 521 4&lblank; lower messes,] Mess is a contraction of Master, as Mess John, Master John; an appellation used by the Scots, to those who have taken their academical degree. Lower messes, therefore, are graduates of a lower form.—The speaker is now mentioning gradations of understanding, and not of rank. Johnson. I believe, lower messes is only used as an expression to signify the lowest degrees about the court. See Anstis. Ord. Gart. i. App. p. 15: “The earl of Surry began the borde in presence: the earl of Arundel washed with him, and sat both at the first messe.” At every great man's table the visitants were anciently, as at present, placed according to their consequence or dignity, but with additional marks of inferiority, viz. of sitting below the great fastseller placed in the center of the table, and of having coarser provisions set before them. The former custom is mentioned in the Honest Whore by Decker, 1635: “Plague him; set him beneath the salt, and let him not touch a bit till every one has had his full cut.” The latter was as much a subject of complaint in the time of B. and Fletcher, as in that of Juvenal, as the following instance may prove: “Uncut up pies at the nether end, filled with moss and stones “Partly to make a shew with, “And partly to keep the lower mess from eating.” Woman Hater, act I. sc. ii. This passage may be yet somewhat differently explained. It appears from a passage in The merye Jest of a Man called Howleglas, bl. l. no date, that it was anciently the custom in public houses to keep ordinaries of different prices: “What table wyl you be at? for at the lordes table thei give me no less than to shylinges, and at the merchaunts table xvi pence, and at my household servantes, geve me twelve pence.” Inferiority of understanding, is, on this occasion, comprehended in the idea of inferiority of rank. Steevens. &lblank; lower messes Perchance are purblind &lblank;] Concerning the different messes in the great families of our ancient nobility, see the Houshold Book of the 5th Earl of Northumberland, 8vo, 1770. Percy.

Note return to page 522 5&lblank; hoxes honesty behind, &lblank;] To hox is to ham-string. So, in Knolles' Hist. of the Turks: “&lblank; alighted, and with his sword his hoxed horse.” King James VI. in his 11th Parliament, had an act to punish “hochares, or slayers of horse, oxen, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 523 6Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance, &lblank;] This is one of the expressions by which Shakespeare too frequently clouds his meaning. This sounding phrase means, I think, no more than a thing necessary to be done. Johnson I think we ought to read—“the now-performance,” which gives us this very reasonable meaning:—At the execution whereof, such circumstances discovered themselves, as made it prudent to suspend all further proceeding in it. Revisal. I do not see that this attempt does any thing more, than produce a harsher word without an easier sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 524 7&lblank; were sin As deep as that, though true.] i. e. your suspicion is as great a sin as would be that (if committed for which you suspect her. Warburton.

Note return to page 525 8&lblank; meeting noses?] Dr. Thirlby reads meting noses; that is, measuring noses. Johnson.

Note return to page 526 9&lblank; the pin and web, &lblank;] Disorders in the eye. See K. Lear, act III. sc. iv. Steevens.

Note return to page 527 1a lasting wink;] So, in the Tempest: “To the perpetual wink, for aye might put “This ancient morsel.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 528 2But with a ling'ring dram, that should not work, Maliciously, like poison: &lblank;] The thought is here beautifully expressed. He could do it with a dram that should have none of those visible effects that detect the poisoner. These effects he finely calls the malicious workings of poison, as if done with design to betray the user. But the Oxford editor would mend Shakespeare's expression, and reads: &lblank; that should not work Like a malicious poison: &lblank; So that Camillo's reason is lost in this happy emendation. Warburton. Rash is hasty, as in another place, rash gunpowder. Maliciously is malignantly, with effects openly hurtful. Shakespeare had no thought of betraying the user. The Oxford emendation is harmless and useless. Johnson.

Note return to page 529 [3] But I cannot, &c.] In former copies: &lblank; But I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable. I have lov'd thee &lblank; Leo. Make that thy question, and go rot!] The last hemistich to Camillo, must have been mistakenly placed to him. It is disrespect and insolence in Camillo to his king, to tell him that he has once lov'd him.—I have ventured at a transposition, which seems self-evident. Camillo will not be persuaded into a suspicion of the disloyalty imputed to his mistress. The king, who believes nothing but his jealousy, provoked that Camillo is so obstinately diffident, finely starts into a rage, and cries: I've lov'd thee.—Make't thy question, and go rot! i. e. I have tendered thee well, Camillo, but I here cancel all former respect at once. If thou any longer make a question of my wife's disloyalty, go from my presence, and perdition overtake thee for thy stubbornness. Theobald. I have admitted this alteration, as Dr. Warburton has done, but am not convinced that it is necessary. Camillo, desirous to defend the queen, and willing to secure credit to his apology, begins, by telling the king that he has loved him, is about to give instances of his love, and to infer from them his present zeal, when he is interrupted. Johnson. I have restored the old reading. Camillo is about to tell Leontes how much he had loved him. The impatience of the king interrupts him by saying: Make that thy question, i. e. make the love of which you boast, the subject of your future conversation, and go to the grave with it. Question, in our author, very often has this meaning. So, in Measure for Measure: “But in the loss of question;” i. e. in conversation that is thrown away. Again, in Hamlet: “questionable shape” is a form propitious to conversation. Again, in As you like it: “an unquestionable spirit,” is a spirit unwilling to be conversed with. Again, in Shakespeare's Tarquin and Lucrece: “And after supper, long he questioned “With modest Lucrece, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 530 4I have lov'd thee &lblank;] In the first and second folio, these words are the conclusion of Camillo's speech. The later editors have certainly done right in giving them to Leontes, but I think they would come in better at the end of the line: Make that thy question, and go rot!—I have lov'd thee Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 531 5Could man so blench?] To blench is to start off, to shrink. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; if he but blench, “I know my course.” &lblank; Leontes means—could any man so start or fly off from propriety of behaviour? Steevens.

Note return to page 532 6How dare not? do not? do you know, and dare not Be intelligent to me? &lblank;] i. e. do you know, and dare not confess to me that you know? Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 533 7In whose success we are gentle; &lblank;] I know not whether success here does not mean succession. Johnson. Gentle in the text is evidently opposed to simple; alluding to the distinction between the gentry and yeomanry. So, in The Insatiate Countess, 1631: “And make thee gentle being born a beggar.” In whose success we are gentle, may mean consequence of whose success in life, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 534 8I am appointed Him to murder you.] i. e. I am the person appointed to murder you. Steevens.

Note return to page 535 9To vice you to't, &lblank;] i. e. to draw, persuade you. The character called the Vice, in the old plays, was the tempter to evil. Warburton. The vice is an instrument well know; its operation is to hold things together. So the bailiff speaking of Falstaff: “If he come but within my vice, &c.” A vice, however, in the age of Shakespeare, might mean any kind of clock-work or machinery. So, in Holinshed, p. 945: “&lblank; the rood of Borleie in Kent, called the rood of grace, made with diverse vices to moove the eyes and lips, &c.” It may, indeed, be no more than a corruption of “to advise you.” So, in the old metrical romance of Syr Guy of Warwick bl. l. no date: “Then said the emperour Ernis, “Methinketh thou sayest a good vyce.” My first attempt at explanation is I believe the best. Steevens.

Note return to page 536 1Cam. Swear his thought over By each particular star in heaven, &c.] The transposition of a single letter reconciles this passage to good sense. Polixenes, in the preceding speech, had been laying the deepest imprecations on himself, if he had ever abus'd Leontes in any familiarity with his queen. To which Camillo very pertinently replies: &lblank; Swear this though over, &c. Theobald. Swear his thought over may however perhaps mean, overswear his present persuasion, that is endeavour to overcome his opinion, by swearing oaths numerous as the stars. Johnson. “I do not see any necessity for departing from the old copy. Swear his thought over, may mean: “Though you should endeavour to swear away his jealousy—though you should strive, by your oaths, to change his present thoughts.”—The vulgar still use a similar expression: “To swear a person down.” Malone.

Note return to page 537 2&lblank; whose foundation Is pil'd upon his faith, &lblank;] This folly which is erected on the foundation of settled belief. Steevens.

Note return to page 538 3Good expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious queen, &lblank;] But how could this expedition comfort the queen? on the contrary it would increase her husband's suspicion. We should read; &lblank; and comfort The gracious queen's; &lblank; i. e. be expedition my friend, and be comfort the queen's friend. The Oxford editor has thought fit to paraphrase my correction, and so reads: &lblank; Heaven comfort The gracious queen; &lblank; Warburton. Dr. Warburton's conjecture is, I think, just; but what shall be done with the following words, of which I can make nothing? Perhaps the line which connected them to the rest, is lost. &lblank; and comfort The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! &lblank; Jealousy is a passion compounded of love and suspicion; this passion is the theme or subject of the king's thoughts.—Polixenes, perhaps, wishes the queen, for her comfort, so much of that theme or subject as is good, but deprecates that which causes misery. May part of the king's present sentiments comfort the queen, but away with his suspicion. This is such meaning as can be picked out. Johnson. Perhaps the sense is—May that good speed which is my friend, comfort likewise the queen who is part of its theme, i. e. partly on whose account I go away; but may not the same comfort extend itself to the groundless suspicions of the king; i. e. may not my departure support him in them. His for its is common with Shakespeare; and Paulina says in a subsequent scene, that she does not chuse to appear a friend to Leontes, in comforting his evils, i. e. in strengthening his jealousy by appearing to acquiesce in it. Steevens. Comfort is I apprehend here used as a verb. Good expedition, befriend me, by removing me from a place of danger, and comfort the innocent queen, by removing the object of her husband's jealousy—the queen, who is the subject of his conversation, but without reason the object of his suspicion. Malone.

Note return to page 539 4A sad tale's best for winter:] Hence, I suppose, the title of the play. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 540 5In my just censure? in my true opinion? &lblank;] Censure, in the time of our author, was generally used, (as in this instance) for judgment, opinion. So, sir Walter Raleigh, in his verses prefixed to Gascoigne's Steel Glasse, 1576: “Wherefore to write my censure of this book.” Malone.

Note return to page 541 6Alack, for lesser knowledge! &lblank;] That is, O that my knowledge were less. Johnson.

Note return to page 542 7&lblank; violent hefts: &lblank;] Hefts are heavings, what is heaved up. So, in sir Arthur Gorges' Translation of Lucan, 1614: But if a part of heav'n's huge sphere Thou chufe thy pondrous heft to beare.” Steevens.

Note return to page 543 8He hath discover'd my design, and I Remain a pinch'd thing; &lblank;] Alluding to the superstition of the vulgar, concerning those who were enchanted, and fastened to the spot, by charms superior to their own. Warburton. The sense, I think, is, He hath now discovered my design, and I am treated as a mere child's baby, a thing pinched out of clouts, a puppet for them to move and actuate as they please. Dr. Warburton's supposed allusion to enchantments, is quite beside the purpose. Revisal, This sense is possible, but many other meanings might serve as well. Johnson. The same expression occurs in Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel by one John Hinde, 1606: “Sith then, Cleodora, thou art pinched, and hast none to pity thy passions, dissemble thy affection, though it cost thee thy life.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “Had the queene of poetrie been pinched with so many passions, &c.” These instances may serve to shew that pinched had anciently a more dignified meaning than it appears to have at present. Spenser, in his Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 12. has equipped grief with a pair of pincers: “A pair of pincers in his hand he had, “With which he pinched people to the heart.” Again, in the Tempest: “Thou'rt pinched for't now, Sebastian, &lblank;” Again, ibid. “Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong.” Again, in the Tragedie of Antonie, by the countess of Pembroke, 1595: “And still I am with burning pincers nipt.” The sense proposed by the author of the Revisal may, however, be supported by the following passage in the City Match, by Jasper Maine, 1639: “&lblank; Pinch'd napkins, captain, and laid “Like fishes, fowls, or faces.“ Steevens.

Note return to page 544 9&lblank; you, my lord, Do but mistake.] Otway had this passage in his thoughts, when he put the following lines into the mouth of Castalio: “&lblank; Should the bravest man “That e'er wore conquering sword, but dare to whisper “What thou proclaim'st, he were the worst of liars: “My friend may be mistaken.” Steevens.

Note return to page 545 1A federary with her; &lblank;] A federary is a confederate, an accomplice. Steevens.

Note return to page 546 2But with her most vile principal, &lblank;] One that knows what Hermione should be ashamed of, even if the knowledge of it rested alone in her own breast and that of her paramour, without the participation of any confident.—But, which is here used for alone, renders this passage somewhat obscure. Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0460

Note return to page 547 3&lblank; if I mistake &lblank; The center, &c. &lblank;] That is, if the proofs which I can offer will not support the opinion I have formed, no foundation can be trusted. Johnson.

Note return to page 548 4He who shall speak for her is far off guilty, But that he speaks.] This cannot be the speaker's meaning. Leontes would say, I shall hold the person, in a great measure guilty, who shall dare to intercede for her: and this, I believe, Shakespeare ventured to express thus: He who shall speak for her, is far of guilty, &c. i. e. partakes far, deeply, of her guilt. Theobald. It is strange that Mr. Theobald could not find out that far off guilty, signifies, guilty in a remote degree. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0461

Note return to page 549 [5] &lblank; this action; &lblank;] The word action is here taken in the lawyer's sense, for indictment, charge, or accusation. Johnson.

Note return to page 550 6&lblank; I'll keep my stable where I lodge my wife; &lblank;] Stable-stand (stabilis statio, as Spelman interprets it) is a term of the forest-laws, and signifies a place where a deer-stealer fixes his stand under some convenient cover, and keeps watch for the purpose of killing deer as they pass by. From the place it came to be applied also to the person, and any man taken in a forest in that situation, with a gun or bow in his hand, was presumed to be an offender, and had the name of a stable-stand. In all former editions this hath been printed stables, and it may perhaps be objected, that another syllable added spoils the smoothness of the verse. But by pronouncing stable short, the measure will very well bear it, according to the liberty allowed in this kind of writing, and which Shakespeare never scruples to use; therefore I read, stable-stand. Hanmer. There is no need of Hanmer's addition to the text. So, in the ancient enterlude of the Repentaunce of Marie Magdalaine, 1567: “Where thou dwellest, the devyll may have a stable.” Steevens.

Note return to page 551 7&lblank; land-damn him: &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer interprets, stop his urine. Land or lant being the old word for urine. Land-damn is probably one of those words which caprice brought into fashion, and which, after a short time, reason and grammar drove irrecoverably away. It perhaps meant no more than I will rid the country of him; condemn him to quit the land. Johnson. Land-damn him, if such a reading can be admitted, may mean, he would procure sentence to be past on him in this world, on this earth. Antigonus could no way make good the threat of stopping his urine. Besides it appears too ridiculous a punishment for so atrocious a criminal. It must be confessed, that what sir T. Hanmer has said concerning the word lant, is true. I meet with the following instance in Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable, 1639: “Your frequent drinking country ale with lant in't.” And in Shakespeare's time, to drink a lady's health in urine, appears to have been esteemed an act of gallantry. One instance (for I could produce many) may suffice: “Have I not religiously vow'd my heart to you, been drunk for your health, eat glasses, drank urine, stab'd arms, and done all the offices of protested galantry for your sake?” Antigonus, on this occasion, may therefore have a dirty meaning. It should be remembered, however, that to damn, anciently signified to condemn. So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578: “Vouchsafe to give my damned husband life.” Again, in Julius Cæsar, act IV. sc. i: “He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 552 8&lblank; and some five;] This is Mr Theobald's correction; the former editions read, sans five. Johnson.

Note return to page 553 9And I had rather glib myself, &c. &lblank;] For glib I think we should read lib, which, in the northern language, is the same with geld. In the Court Beggar, by Mr. Richard Brome, act IV. the word lib is used in this sense:—“He can sing a charm (he says) shall make you feel no pain in your libbing, nor after it: no tooth-drawer, or corn-cutter, did ever work with so little feeling to a patient,” Gray. So, in the comedy of The Fancies, by Ford, 1638: “What a terrible sight to a lib'd breech, is a sow-gelder?” Though lib may probably be the right word, yet glib is at this time current in many counties, where they say—to glib a boar, to glib a horse. So, in St. Patrick for Ireland, a play by Shirley, 1640: “If I come back, let me be glib'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 554 1Striking his brows.] This stage direction is not in the old copy. I doubt its propriety. Leontes might feel a stroke upon his brows, but could not see the instruments that feel, i. e. his brows. Tollet. Dr. Johnson's former edition reads—sinking his brows, which I corrected into striking. Sir T. Hanmer gives— Laying hold of his arm. Some stage direction seems necessary, but what it should be, is not very easy to be decided. Steevens.

Note return to page 555 2&lblank; nought for approbation, But only seeing, &lblank;] Approbation, in this place, is put for proof. Johnson.

Note return to page 556 3&lblank; stuff'd sufficiency; &lblank;] That is, of abilities more than enough. Johnson.

Note return to page 557 4Lest that the treachery of the two, &c. &lblank;] He has before declared, that there is a plot against his life and crown, and that Hermione is federary with Polixenes and Camillo. Johnson.

Note return to page 558 5These dangerous unsafe lunes o'the king! &lblank;] I have no where, but in our author, observed this word adopted in our tongue, to signify, frenzy, lunacy. But it is a mode of expression with the French.—Il y a de la lune: (i. e. he has got the moon in his head; he is frantick.) Cotgrave. “Lune. folie. Les femmes ont des lunes dans la tete. Richelet.” Theobald. A similar expression occurs in the Revenger's Tragedy, 1608: “I know 'twas but some peevish moon in him.” Lunes, however, were part of the accoutrements of a hawk. So, in Greene's Mamillia: “&lblank; yea, in seeking to unloose the lunes, the more she was intangled.” Steevens.

Note return to page 559 6&lblank; out of the blank And level of my brain, &lblank;] Beyond the aim of any attempt that I can make against him. Blank and level are terms of archery. Johnson.

Note return to page 560 7And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.] Paulina supposes the king's jealousy to be raised and inflamed by the courtiers about him; who, she finely says: &lblank; creep like shadows by him, and do sigh At each his needless heavings: &lblank;] Surely then, she could not say, that were she a man, the worst of these, she would vindicate her mistress's honour against the king's suspicions, in single combat. Shakespeare, I am persuaded, wrote: &lblank; so were I A man, on th' worst about you. i. e. were I a man, I would vindicate her honour, on the worst of these sycophants that are about you. Warburton. The worst means only the lowest. Were I the meanest of your servants, I would yet claim the combat against any accuser. Johnson.

Note return to page 561 8A mankind witch! &lblank;] A mankind woman, is yet used in the midland counties, for a woman violent, ferocious, and mischievous. It has the same sense in this passage. Witches are supposed to be mankind, to put off the softness and delicacy of women; therefore sir Hugh, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, says of a woman suspected to be a witch, “that he does not like when a woman has a beard.” Of this meaning Mr. Theobald has given examples. Johnson. So, in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “That e'er I should be seen to strike a woman. &lblank; “Why she is mankind, therefore thou may'st strike her.” It has been observed to me that man-keen is a word still used in the north of England, where it is applied to horses that bite at those who dress them, and to girls when they are indecently forward and shew themselves too fond of men. Mankind and man-keen, however, seem in general to have one common meaning. So, in Stephens's apology for Herodotus, p. 263: “He cured a man-keene wolfe which had hurt many in the city.” Steevens. I shall offer an etymology of the adjective mankind, which may perhaps more fully explain it. Dr. Hickes's Anglo-Saxon grammar, p. 119. edit. 1705, observes: “Saxonicè man est a mein quod Cimbricè est nocumentum, Francicè est nefas, scelus.” So that mankind may signify one of a wicked and pernicious nature, from the Saxon man, mischief or wickedness, and from kind, nature. Tollet.

Note return to page 562 9&lblank; thou art woman-tyr'd; &lblank;] Woman tyr'd, is peck'd by a woman. The phrase is taken from falconry, and is often employed by writers contemporary with Shakespeare.—So, in The Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “He has given me a bone to tire on.” Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: “&lblank; the vulture tires “Upon the eagle's heart.” Again, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1630: “Must with keen fang tire upon thy flesh.” Partlet is the name of the hen in the old story book of Reynard the Fox. Steevens.

Note return to page 563 1&lblank; thy crone.] i. e. thy old worn-out woman. A croan is an old toothless sheep: thence an old woman. So, in the Mal-content, 1606: “There is an old crone in the court, her name is Maquerelle.” Again, in Love's Mistress, by T. Heywood, 1636: “Witch and hag, crone and beldam.” Again, in Heywood's Golden Age, 1611: “All the gold in Crete cannot get one of you old crones with child.” Again, in the auncient enterlude of the Repentaunce of Marie Magdalene, 1567: “I have knowne painters that have made old crones, “To appeare as pleasant as little prety young Jones.” Steevens.

Note return to page 564 2Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness] Leontes had ordered Antigonus to take up the bastard; Paulina forbids him to touch the princess under that appellation. Forced is false, uttered with violence to truth. Johnson.

Note return to page 565 3&lblank; his smiles;] These two redundant words might be rejected, especially as the child has already been represented as the inheritor of its father's dimples and frown. Steevens.

Note return to page 566 4No yellow in't; &lblank;] Yellow is the colour of jealousy. Johnson. So, Nym says in the Merry Wives of Windsor: “I will possess him with yellowness.” Steevens.

Note return to page 567 5And, lozel, &lblank;] This is a term of contempt, frequently used by Spenser. I likewise meet with it in the Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “To have the lozel's company.” A lozel is a worthless fellow. Again, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “Peace, prating lozel, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 568 6&lblank; Swear by this sword,] It was anciently the custom to swear by the cross on the handle of a sword. So, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. vi. c. I: “&lblank; he made him sweare “By his own blade and by the crosse thereon.” See a note on Hamlet, act I. sc. v. Steevens.

Note return to page 569 7&lblank; commend it strangely to some place,] Commit to some place, as a stranger, without more provision. Johnson.

Note return to page 570 8Fertile the isle; &lblank;] But the temple of Apollo at Delphi was not in an island, but in Phocis, on the continent. Either Shakespeare, or his editors, had their heads running on Delos, an island the Cyclades. If it was the editor's blunder, then Shakespeare wrote: Fertile the soil, —which is more elegant too, than the reading. Warburton. Shakespeare is little careful of geography. There is no need of this emendation in a play of which the whole plot depends upon a geographical error, by which Bohemia is supposed to be a maritime country. Johnson. In the Hist. of Dorastus and Faunia, the queen desires the king to send “six of his nobles whom he best trusted, to the isle of Delphos, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 571 9I shall report, For most it caught me, &c.] What will he report? And what means this reason of his report, that the celestial habits most struck his observation? We should read: It shames report, Foremost it caught me, &lblank; Cleomenes had just before said, that the temple much surpassed the common praise it bore. The other very naturally replies—it shames report, as far surpassing what report said of it. He then goes on to particularize the wonders of the place: Foremost, or first of all, the priests' garments, their behaviour, their act of sacrifice, &c. in reasonable good order. Warburton. Of this emendation I see no reason; the utmost that can be necessary is, to change, it caught me, to they caught me; but even this may well enough be omitted. It may relate to the whole spectacle. Johnson.

Note return to page 572 1The time is worth the use on't.] It should be just the reverse: The use is worth the time on't. and this alteration the Oxford editor approves. Warburton. Either reading may serve, but neither is very elegant. The time it worth the use on't, means, the time which we have spent in visiting Delos, has recompensed us for the trouble of so spending it. Johnson.

Note return to page 573 2Even to the guilt, or the purgation. &lblank;] Mr. Roderick observes, that the word even is not to be understood here as an adverb, but as an adjective, signifying equal or indifferent. Steevens.

Note return to page 574 3&lblank; pretence &lblank;] Is, in this place, taken for a scheme laid, a design formed; to pretend means to design, in the Gent. of Verona. Johnson.

Note return to page 575 4&lblank; mine integrity, &c.] That is, my virtue being accounted wickedness, my assertion of it will pass but for a lie. Falsehood means both treachery and lie. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0465

Note return to page 576 5&lblank; For life, I prize it, &c.] Life is to me now only grief, and as such only is considered by me, I would therefore willingly dismiss it. Johnson.

Note return to page 577 6I would spare: &lblank;] To spare any thing is to let it go, to quit the possession of it. Johnson.

Note return to page 578 7'Tis a derivative from me to mine,] This sentiment, which is probably borrowed from Ecclesiasticus chap. iii. verse cannot be too often impressed on the female mind: “The glory of a man is from the honour of his father; and a mother in dishonour, is a reproach unto her children.” Steevens.

Note return to page 579 8&lblank; Since he came, With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strain'd, to appear thus? &lblank;] These lines I do not understand; with the licence of all editors, what I cannot understand I suppose unintelligible, and therefore propose that they may be altered thus: &lblank; Since he came, With what encounter so uncurrent have I Seen stain'd to appear thus. At least I think it might be read: With what encounter so uncurrent have I Strain'd to appear thus? If one jot beyond Johnson. The sense seems to be this:—What sudden slip have I made, that I should catch a wrench in my character? “&lblank; a noble nature “May catch a wrench.” Timon. An uncurrent encounter seems to mean an irregular, unjustifiable congress. Perhaps it may be a metaphor from tilting, in which the shock of meeting adversaries was so called. Thus, in Drayton's Legend of T. Cromwell E. of Essex: “Yet these encounters thrust me not awry.” The sense would then be:—In what base reciprocation of love have I caught this strain? Uncurrent is what will not pass, and is, at present, only apply'd to money. Mrs. Ford talks of—some strain in her character, and in B. and Fletcher's Custom of the Country, the same expression occurs: “&lblank; strain your loves “With any base, or hir'd persuasions.” To strain, I believe, means to go awry. So, in the 6th song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “As wantonly she strains in her lascivious course.” Drayton is speaking of the irregular course of the river Wye. Steevens.

Note return to page 580 9I ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices wanted Less impudence to gain-say what they did, Than to perform it first.] It is apparent that according to the proper, at least according to the present, use of words, less should be more, or wanted should be had. But Shakespeare is very uncertain in his use of negatives. It may be necessary once to observe, that in our language, two negatives did not originally affirm, but strengthen the negation. This mode of speech was in time changed, but as the change was made in opposition to long custom, it proceeded gradually, and uniformity was not obtained but through an intermediate confusion. Johnson.

Note return to page 581 1My life stands in the level of your dreams,] To be in the level is by a metaphor from archery to be within the reach. Johnson.

Note return to page 582 2&lblank; As you were past all shame, (Those of your fact are so) so past all truth.] I do not remember that fact is used any where absolutely for guilt, which must be its sense in this place. Perhaps we may read: Those of your pack are so. Pack is a low coarse word well suited to the rest of this royal invective. Johnson. Those of your fact are so.—I should guess sect to be the right word. See K. Hen. IV. P. II. act II. sc. iv. In Middleton's Mad World, my Masters, a Courtezan fays: “It is the easiest art and cunning for our sect to counterfeit sick, that are always full of fits when we are well.” Farmer. Thus, Falstaff speaking to Dol Tearsheet: “So is all her sect: if they be once in a calm they are sick.” Those of your fact, may, however, mean,—those who have done as you do. Steevens.

Note return to page 583 3Starr'd most unluckily, &lblank;] i. e. born under an inauspicious planet. Steevens.

Note return to page 584 4I have got strength of limit. &lblank;] I know not well how strength of limit can mean strength to pass the limits of the child-bed chamber, which yet it must mean in this place, unless we read in a more easy phrase, strength of limb. And now, &c. Johnson. I have got strength of limit. &lblank;] From the following passage in the black letter history of Titana and Theseus (of which I have no earlier edition than that in 1636) it appears that limit was anciently used for limb: “&lblank; thought it very strange that nature should endow so fair a face with so hard a heart, such comely limits with such perverse conditions.” Steevens.

Note return to page 585 5The flatness of my misery; &lblank;] That is, how low, how flat I am laid by my calamity. Johnson. So, Milton, Par. Lost, b. ii: “&lblank; Thus repuls'd, our final hope “Is flat despair.” Malone.

Note return to page 586 6Of the queen's speed, &lblank;] Of the event of the queen's trial: so we still say, he sped, well or ill. Johnson.

Note return to page 587 7Does my deeds make the blacker!] This vehement retraction of Leontes, accompanied with the confession of more crimes than he was suspected of, is agreeable to our daily experience of the vicissitudes of violent tempers, and the eruptions of minds oppressed with guilt. Johnson.

Note return to page 588 8That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; That did but shew thee, of a fool inconstant, And damnable ungrateful: &lblank;] I have ventured at a slight alteration here, against the authority of all the copies, and for fool read soul. It is certainly too gross and blunt in Paulina, though she might impeach the king of fooleries in some of his past actions and conduct, to call him downright a fool. And it is much more pardonable in her to arraign his morals, and the qualities of his mind, than rudely to call him idiot to his face. Theobald. &lblank; shew thee of a fool, &lblank;] So all the copies. We should read: &lblank; shew thee off, a fool, &lblank; i. e. represent thee in thy true colours; a fool, an inconstant, &c. Warburton. Poor Mr. Theobald's courtly remark cannot be thought to deserve much notice. Dr. Warburton too might have spared his sagacity if he had remembered, that the present reading, by a mode of speech anciently much used, means only, It shew'd thee first a fool, then inconstant and ungrateful. Johnson.

Note return to page 589 9&lblank; though a devil Would have shed water out of fire, ere don't:] i. e. a devil would have shed tears of pity o'er the damn'd, ere he would have committed such an action. Steevens.

Note return to page 590 for, drop, read, dropp'd.

Note return to page 591 1I am sorry for't;] This is another instance of the sudden changes incident to vehement and ungovernable minds. Johnson.

Note return to page 592 2Thou art perfect then, &lblank;] Perfect is often by Shakespeare for certain, well assured, or well informed. Johnson. It is so used by almost all our ancient writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 593 3&lblank; thy character: &lblank;] i. e. the writing afterwards discovered with Perdita—“the letters of Antigonus found with it, which they knew to be his character.” Steevens.

Note return to page 594 4&lblank; A savage clamour? &lblank;] This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then seeing the bear, he cries, this is the chace, or, the animal pursued. Johnson.

Note return to page 595 5&lblank; a barne! a very pretty barne! &lblank;] i. e. child. So, in R. Broome's Northern Lass, 1633: “Peace wayward barne; O cease thy moan, “Thy far more wayward daddy's gone.” It is a North Country word. Barns for borns, things born; seeming to answer to the Latin nati. Steevens

Note return to page 596 6Shep. Would I had been by, to have help'd the old man.] Though all the printed copies concur in this reading, I am persuaded, we ought to restore, nobleman. The Shepherd knew nothing of Antigonus's age; besides, the Clown had just told his father, that he said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman, and no less than three times in this short scene, the Clown, speaking of him, calls him the gentleman. Theobald. I suppose the Shepherd infers the age of Antigonus from his inability to defend himself; or perhaps Shakespeare, who was conscious that he himself designed Antigonus for an old man, has inadvertently given this knowledge to the Shepherd who had never seen him. Steevens.

Note return to page 597 7&lblank; a bearing-cloth &lblank;] A bearing-cloth is the fine mantle or cloth with which a child is usually covered, when it is carried to the church to be baptized. Percy.

Note return to page 598 8&lblank; some changeling. &lblank;] i. e. some child left behind by the fairies, in the room of one which they had stolen. So Spenser, b. i. c. 10: “And her base Elfin brood there for thee left, “Such, men do changelings call, so call'd by fairy theft.” Steevens.

Note return to page 599 9You're a made old man; &lblank;] In former copies:—You're a mad old man; if the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!—This the Clown says upon his opening his fardel, and discovering the wealth in it. But this is no reason why he should call his father a mad old man. I have ventured to correct in the text—You're a made old man: i. e. your fortune's made by this adventitious treasure. So our poet, in a number of other passages. Theobald. Dr. Warburton did not accept this emendation, but it is certainly right. The word is borrowed from the novel: “The good man desired his wife to be quiet: if she would hold peace, they were made for ever.” Farmer. So, in Love's Mistress, a masque by T. Heywood, 1636: “I before was but a man made, but am now a made man.” Again, in M. Kyffin's translation of the Andria of Terence, 1588: “I am a made man if this be true.” Again, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “I am safe for ever, I am a made man for this world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 600 1&lblank; that make, and unfold error, &lblank;] This does not, in my opinion, take in the poet's thought. Time does not make mistakes, and discover them, at different conjunctures; but the poet means, that Time often for a season covers errors, which he afterwards displays and brings to light. I chuse therefore to read: &lblank; that mask and unfold error, &lblank; Theobald. Theobald's emendation is surely unnecessary. Departed time renders many facts obscure, and in that sense is the cause of error, Time to come brings discoveries with it. Steevens.

Note return to page 601 2&lblank; that I slide O'er sixteen years, &lblank;] This trespass, in respect of dramatic unity, will appear venial to those who have read the once famous Lilly's Endymion, or (as he himself calls it in the prologue) his Man in the Moon. This author was applauded and very liberally paid by queen Elizabeth. Two acts of his piece comprize the space of forty years, Endymion lying down to sleep at the end of the second, and waking in the first scene of the fifth, after a nap of that unconscionable length. Lilly has likewise been guilty of much greater absurdities than ever Shakespeare committed; for he supposes that Endymion's hair, features, and person, were changed by age during his sleep, while all the other personages of the drama remained without alteration. George Whetstone, in the epistle dedicatory, before his Promos and Cassandra, 1578, (on the plan of which Measure for Measure is formed) had pointed out many of these absurdities and offences against the laws of the Drama. It must be owned therefore that Shakespeare has not fallen into them through ignorance of what they were. “For at this daye, the Italian is so lascivious in his comedies, that honest hearts are grieved at his actions. The Frenchman and Spaniard follow the Italian's humour. The German is too holy; for he presents on everye common stage, what preaches should pronounce in pulpits. The Englishman in this quallitie, is most vaine, indiscreete, and out of order. He first grounds his worke on impossibilities: then in three houres ronnes he throwe the worlde: marryes, gets children, makes children men, men to conquer kingdomes, murder monsters, and bringeth goddes from heaven, and fetcheth devils from hell, &c.” This quotation will serve to shew that our poet might have enjoyed the benefit of literary laws, but like Achilles, denied that laws were designed to operate on beings confident of their own powers, and secure of graces beyond the reach of art. Steevens.

Note return to page 602 3&lblank; and leave the growth untry'd Of that wide gap; &lblank;] The growth of what? The reading is nonsense. Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; and leave the gulf untry'd, i. e. unwaded through. By this means, too, the uniformity of the metaphor is restored. All the terms of the sentence, relating to a gulf; as swift passage,—slide over—untry'd—wide gap. Warburton. This emendation is plausible, but the common reading is consistent enough with our author's manner, who attends more to his ideas than to his words. The growth of the wide gap, is somewhat irregular; but the means, the growth, or progression of the time which filled up the gap of the story between Perdita's birth and her sixteenth year. To leave this growth untried, is to leave the passages of the intermediate years unnoted and unexamined. Untried is not, perhaps, the word which he would have chosen, but which his rhyme required. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0469

Note return to page 603 4&lblank; since it is in my power &c.] The reasoning of Time is not very clear; he seems to mean, that he who has broke so many laws may now break another; that he who introduced every thing, may introduce Perdita on her sixteenth year; and he intreats that he may pass as of old, before any order or succession of objects, ancient or modern, distinguished his periods. Johnson.

Note return to page 604 5&lblank; imagine me, Gentle spectators, that I now may be In fair Bohemia; &lblank;] Time is every where alike. I know not whether both sense and grammar may not dictate: &lblank; imagine we, Gentle spectators, that you now may be,, &c. Let us imagine that you, who behold these scenes, are now in Bohemia. Johnson.

Note return to page 605 6Is the argument of time: &lblank;] Argument is the same with subject. Johnson.

Note return to page 606 7He wishes earnestly, you never may.] I believe this speech of Time rather begins the fourth act than concludes the third. Johnson. It does so in the old copy, and I have therefore replaced it. Steevens.

Note return to page 607 8It is fifteen years, &lblank;] We should read—sixteen. Time has just said: &lblank; that I slide O'er sixteen years &lblank; Again, act V. sc. iii: “Which lets go by some sixteen years.” Again, ibid. “&lblank; Which sixteen winters cannot blow away.” Steevens.

Note return to page 608 9&lblank; and my profit therein, the heaping friendships. &lblank;] This is nonsense. We should read,—reaping friendships. The king had said his study should be to reward his friend's deserts; and then concludes, that his profit in this study should be reaping the fruits of his friend's attachment to him; which refers to what he had before said of the necessity of Camillo's stay, or otherwise he could not reap the fruit of those businesses, which Camillo had cut out. Warburton. I see not that the present reading is nonsense; the sense of heaping friendships is, though like many other of our author's, unusual, at least unusual to modern ears, is not very obscure. To be more thankful shall be my study; and my profit therein the heaping friendships. That is, I will for the future be more liberal of recompence, from which I shall receive this advantage, that as I heap benefits I shall heap friendships, as I confer favours on thee I shall increase the friendship between us. Johnson.

Note return to page 609 1&lblank; but I have, missingly noted, &lblank;] We should read,—but I have, missing him, noted. This accounts for the reason of his taking note, because he often missed him, that is, wanted his agreeable company. For a compliment is intended; and in that sense, it is to be understood. The Oxford editor reads,—musingly noted. Warburton. I see not how the sense is mended by sir T. Hanmer's alteration, nor how it is at all changed by Dr. Warburton's. Johnson. Missingly noted, means, I have observed him at intervals, not constantly or regularly, but occasionally. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0470

Note return to page 610 2&lblank; But, I fear the angle &lblank;] Mr. Theobald reads,—and I fear the engle. Johnson. Angle in this place means a fishing-rod, which he represents as drawing his son, like a fish, away. So, in K. Hen. IV. P. I: “&lblank; he did win “The hearts of all that he did angle for.” Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “She knew her distance, and did angle for me.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “And fell so roundly to a large confession. “To angle for your thoughts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 611 3&lblank; Autolycus &lblank;] Autolycus was the son of Mercury, and as famous for all the arts of fraud and thievery as his father: “Non suit Autolyci tam piceata manus.” Martial. Steevens.

Note return to page 612 4Why, then comes in the sweet o'the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.] I think this nonsense should be read thus: Why then come in the sweet o'the year; 'Fore the red blood reins-in the winter pale. i. e. why then come in, or let us enjoy, pleasure, while the season serves, before pale winter reins-in the red or youthful blood; as much as to say, let us enjoy life in youth, before old age comes and freezes up the blood. Warburton. Dr. Thirlby reads, perhaps rightly, certainly with much more probability, and easiness of construction: For the red blood runs in the winter pale. That is, for the red blood runs pale in the winter. Sir T. Hanmer reads: For the red blood reigns o'er the winter's pale. Johnson. This line has suffered a great variety of alterations, but I am persuaded the old reading is the true one. The first folio has “the winter's pale,” and the meaning is, the red, the spring blood now reigns o'er the parts lately under the dominion of winter. The English pale, the Irish pale, were frequent expressions in Shakespeare's time; and the words red and pale were chosen for the sake of the antithesis. Farmer. Dr. Farmer is certainly right. I had offered this explanation to Dr. Johnson who rejected it. In K. Hen. V. our author says: “&lblank; English breach “Pales in the flood, &c.” Again, in another of his plays: “Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips.” Holinshed, p. 528, calls sir Richard Aston, “Lieutenant of the English pale, for the earle of Summerset.” Again, in K. Hen. VI. Part I: How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale.” Steevens.

Note return to page 613 5&lblank; pugging tooth &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read,—progging tooth. It is certain that pugging is not now understood. But Dr. Thirlby observes, that it is the cant of gypsies. Johnson. The word pugging is used by in one of his pieces, and progging by B. and Fletcher in the Spanish Curate. And a puggard was a cant name for some particular kind of thief. So, in the Roaring Girl 1611: “Of cheaters, lifters, nips, foists, puggards, curbers.” See Prigging in Minshew. Steevens.

Note return to page 614 6&lblank; my aunts,] Aunt appears to have been at this time a cant word for a bawd. In Middleton's comedy, called, A Trick to catch the Old one, 1616, is the following confirmation of its being used in that sense:— “It was better bestow'd upon his uncle than one his aunts, I need not say bawd, for every one what aunt stands for in the last translation.” Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; I never knew “What fleeking, glazing, or what pressing meant, “Till you preferr'd me to your aunt the lady: “I knew no ivory teeth, no caps of hair, “No mercury, water, fucus, or perfumes “To help a lady's breath, untill your aunt “Learn'd me the common trick.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “I'll call you one of my aunts, sister, that were as good as to call you arrant whore.” Steevens.

Note return to page 615 7&lblank; wore three-pile; &lblank;] i. e. rich velvet. So, in Ram-alley or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; and line them “With black, crimson, and tawny three-pil'd velvet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 616 8My traffick is sheets; &lblank;] i. e. I am a vender of sheet ballads, and other publications that are sold unbound. From the word sheets the poet takes occasion to quibble. “Our fingers are lime twigs, and barbers we be, “To catch sheets from hedges most pleasant to see.” Three Ladies of London, 1584. Again, in B. and Fletcher's Beggars Bush: “To steal from the hedge both the shirt and the sheets.” Steevens.

Note return to page 617 9&lblank; My father nam'd me, Autolycus, &c.] Mr. Theobald says, the allusion is unquestionably to Ovid. He is mistaken. Not only the allusion, but the whole speech is taken from Lucian; who appears to have been one of our poet's favourite authors, as may be collected from several places of his works. It is from his discourse on judicial astrology, where Autolycus talks much in the same manner; and 'tis only on this account that he is called the son of Mercury by the ancients, namely because he was born under that planet. And as the infant was supposed by the astrologers to communicate of the nature of the star which predominated, so Autolycus was a thief. Warburton. This piece of Lucian, to which Dr. Warburton refers, was translated long before the time of Shakespeare. I have seen it, but it had no date. Steevens.

Note return to page 618 1&lblank; With die and drab, I purchas'd this caparison; &lblank;] i. e. with gaming and whoring, I brought myself to this shabby dress. Percy.

Note return to page 619 2&lblank; my revenue is the silly cheat: &lblank;] Silly is used by the writers of our author's time, for simple, low, mean; and in this the humour of the speech consists. I don't aspire to arduous and high things, as bridewell or the gallows; I am contented with this humble and low way of life, as a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. But the Oxford editor, who, by his emendations, seems to have declared war against all Shakespeare's humour, alters it to,—the sly cheat. Warburton. The silly cheat is one of the technical terms belonging to the art of coneycatching or thievary, which Greene has mentioned among the rest, in his treatise on that ancient and honourable science. I think it means picking pockets. Steevens.

Note return to page 620 3&lblank; Gallows, and knock, &c.] The resistance which a highwayman encounters in the fact, and the punishment which he suffers on detection, with-hold me from daring robbery, and determine me to the silly cheat and petty theft. Johnson.

Note return to page 621 4&lblank; tods; &lblank;] A tod is twenty-eight pounds of wool. Percy.

Note return to page 622 5&lblank; three-man song-men all, &lblank;] i. e. fingers of catches in three parts. A six-man song occurs in the Tournament of Tottenham. See The Rel. of Poetry, vol. II. p. 24. Percy. So, in Heywood's K. Edward IV. 1626: “&lblank; call Dudgeon and his fellows, we'll have a three-man song.” Before the comedy of the Gentle Craft, or the Shoemakers' Holiday, 1600, some of these three-man songs are printed. Steevens.

Note return to page 623 6&lblank; means, and bases: &lblank;] Means are trebles. Steevens.

Note return to page 624 7&lblank; warden-pies; &lblank;] Wardens are a species of large pears. I believe the name is disused at present; it however afforded Ben Jonson room for a quibble in his masque of Gypsies Metamorphosed: “A deputy tart, a church-warden pye.” It appears from a passage in Cupid's Revenge, by B. and Fletcher, that these pears were usually eaten roasted: “I would have had him roasted like a warden, “In brown paper.” The French call this peare the poire de garde. Steevens.

Note return to page 625 8I'the name of me &lblank;] This is a vulgar invocation, which I have often heard used. So, sir Andrew Ague-cheek;—“Before me, she's a good wench.” Steevens.

Note return to page 626 9&lblank; with trol-my-dames: &lblank;] Trou-madame, French. The game of nine-holes. Warburton. In Dr. Jones's old treatise on Buckstone bathes, he says: “The ladyes, gentle woomen, wyves, maydes, if the weather be not agreeable, may have in the ende of a benche, eleven holes made, intoo the which to troule pummits, either wyolent or softe, after their own discretion, the pastyme troule in madame is termed.” Farmer. The old English title of this game was pigeon-holes; as the arches in the machine through which the balls are rolled, resemble the cavities made for pigeons in a dove-house. So, in the Antipodes, 1638: “Three-pence I lost at nine-pins; but I got “Six tokens towards that at pigeon-holes.” Again, in A Woman never vex'd, 1632: “What quicksands he finds out, as dice, cards, pigeon-holes.” Drayton, however, in the 14th song of his Polyolbion mentions it by its present title: “At nine-holes on the heath while they together play.” Steevens.

Note return to page 627 1&lblank; abide.] To abide, here, must signify, to sojourn, to live for a time without a settled habitation. Johnson.

Note return to page 628 2&lblank; motion of the prodigal son, &lblank;] i. e. the puppet-shew, then called motions. A term frequently occuring in our author. Warburton.

Note return to page 629 3&lblank; let me be unroll'd, and my name put into the book of virtue!] Begging gypsies, in the time of our author, were in gangs and companies, that had something of the shew of an incorporated body. From this noble society he wishes he may be unrolled if he does not so and so. Warburton.

Note return to page 630 4And merrily hent the stile-a:] To hent the stile, is to take hold of it. I was mistaken when I said in a note on Measure for Measure, act IV. sc. ult. that the verb was—to hend. It is to bent, and comes from the Saxon Þentan. So, in the old romance of Guy Earl of Warwick, bl. l. no date: “Some by the armes hent good Guy.” Again: “And some by the brydle him hent.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 7: “Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 631 5&lblank; your extremes, &lblank;] That is, your excesses, the extravagance of your praises. Johnson.

Note return to page 632 6The gracious mark o'the land, &lblank;] The object of all men's notice and expectation. Johnson.

Note return to page 633 7&lblank; prank'd up: &lblank;] To prank is to dress with ostentation. So, in Coriolanus: “For they do prank them in authority.” Again, in Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1598: “I pray you go prank you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 634 8&lblank; sworn, I think, To shew myself a glass.] i. e. one would think that in putting on this habit of a shepherd, you had sworn to put me out of countenance; for in this, as in a glass, you shew me how much below yourself you must descend before you can get upon a level with me. The sentiment is fine, and expresses all the delicacy, as well as humble modesty of the character. But the Oxford editor alters it to: &lblank; swoon, I think, To shew myself a glass. What he means I don't know. But Perdita was not so much given to swooning, as appears by her behaviour at the king's threats, when the intrigue was discovered. Warburton. Dr. Thirlby inclines rather to sir T. Hanmer's emendation, which certainly makes an easy sense, and is, in my opinion, preferable to the present reading. But concerning this passage I know not what to decide. Johnson. Dr. Warburton has well enough explained this passage according to the old reading. Though I cannot help offering a transposition, which I would explain thus: &lblank; But that our feasts In every mess have folly, and feeders Digest it with a custom (sworn I think) To see you so attired, I should blush To shew myself a glass. i. e.—But that our rustick feasts are in every part accompanied with absurdity of the same kind, which custom has authorized, (custom which one would think the guests had sworn to observe) I should blush to present myself before a glass, which would shew me my own person adorned in a manner so foreign to my humble state, or so much better habited than even that of my prince. Steevens.

Note return to page 635 9His work, so noble, &c.] It is impossible for any man to rid his mind of his profession. The authorship of Shakespeare has supplied him with a metaphor, which rather than he would lose it, he has put with no great propriety into the mouth of a country maid. Thinking of his own works, his mind passed naturally to the binder. I am glad that he has no hint at an editor. Johnson. This allusion occurs more than once in Romeo and Juliet: “This precious book of love, this unbound lover, “To beautify him only lacks a cover.” Again: “That book in many eyes doth share the glory, “That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.” Steevens.

Note return to page 636 1&lblank; The gods themselves, Humbling their deities &c.] This is taken almost literally from the novel: “And yet, Dorastus, shame not thy shepherd's weed.—The heavenly gods have sometime earthly thought; Neptune became a ram, Jupiter a bull, Apollo, a shepherd: they gods, and yet in love—thou a man, appointed to love.” Green's Dorastus and Faunia, 1592. Malone.

Note return to page 637 2Grace, and remembrance, &lblank;] Rue was called herb of grace. Rosemary was the emblem of remembrance; I know not why, unless because it was carried at funerals. Johnson. Rosemary was anciently supposed to strengthen the memory, and is prescribed for that purpose in the books of ancient physic. Steevens.

Note return to page 638 3There is an art, &c.] This art is pretended to be taught at the ends of some of the old books that treat of cookery, &c. but being utterly impracticable is not worth exemplification. Steevens.

Note return to page 639 4&lblank; in gilly-flowers,] There is some further conceit relative to gilly-flowers than has yet been discovered. In a Woman never vex'd, 1632, is the following passage: A lover is behaving with freedom to his mistress as they are going into a garden, and after she has alluded to the quality of many herbs, he adds: “You have fair roses, have you not?” “Yes, sir, (says she) but no gilly-flowers.” Meaning perhaps that she would not be treated like a gill-flirt, i. e. a wanton, a word often met with in the old plays, but written flirt-gill in Romeo and Juliet. I suppose gill-flirt to be derived, or rather corrupted, from gilliflower or carnation, which, though beautiful in its appearance, is apt, in the gardener's phrase, to run from its colours, and change as often as a wanton woman. Prior, in his Solomon, has taken notice of the same variability in this species of flowers: “&lblank; the fond carnation loves to shoot “Two various colours from one parent root.” In Lyte's Herbal, 1578, some sorts of gilliflowers are called small honesties, cuckoo gillofers, &c. And in A. W's Commendation of Gascoine and his Posies, is the following remark on this species of flower: “Some thinke that gilliflowers do yield a gelous smell.” See Gascoigne's Works, 1587. Steevens.

Note return to page 640 5&lblank; dibble &lblank;] An instrument used by gardeners to make holes in the earth for the reception of young plants. See it in Minshew. Steevens.

Note return to page 641 6&lblank; O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! &lblank;] So, Ovid: “&lblank; ut summa vestem laxavit ab ora, “Collecti flores tunicis cecidere remissis.” Steevens.

Note return to page 642 7&lblank; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,] I suspect that our author mistakes Juno for Pallas, who was the goddess of blue eyes. Sweeter than an eye-lid is an odd image: but perhaps he uses sweet in the general sense, for delightful. Johnson. It was formerly the fashion to kiss the eyes, as a mark of extraordinary tenderness. I have somewhere met with an account of the first reception one of our kings gave to his new queen, where he is said to have kissed her fayre eyes. So, in Albumazar, Trincalo says: “&lblank; O Armellina, “Come let me kiss thy brows like my own daughter.” Again, in Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide, v. 1358: “This Troilus full oft her eyin two “Gan for to kisse, &c.” Again, in an ancient MS. play of Timon of Athens, in the possession of Mr. Strutt the engraver: “O Juno, be not angry with thy Jove, “But let me kisse thine eyes, my sweete delight.” p. 6. b. The eyes of Juno were as remarkable as those of Pallas. &lblank; &grb;&gro;&grw;&grp;&gri;&grst; &grp;&gro;&grt;&grn;&gri;&gra; &grH;&grr;&grh;. Homer. Steevens. Again, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1608: “&lblank; That eye was Juno's, “Those lips were hers that won the golden ball, “That virgin blush Diana's.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0472

Note return to page 643 8&lblank; bold oxlips, &lblank;] Gold is the reading of sir T. Hanmer; the former editions have bold. Johnson. I am not certain but that the old reading is the true one. The oxlip has not a weak flexible stalk like the cowslip, but erects itself boldly in the face of the sun. Wallis, in his Hist. of Northumberland, says, that the great oxlip grows a foot and a half high. It should be confessed, however, that the colour of the oxlip is taken notice of by other writers. So, in the Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “&lblank; yellow oxlips bright as burnish'd gold.” Steevens.

Note return to page 644 9&lblank; not to be buried, But quick, and in my arms.] So, Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1603: “Isab Heigh ho, you'll bury me, I see. “Rob. In the swan's down, and tomb thee in my arms.” There is no earlier edition of the Winter's Tale than that in 1623. Malone.9Q0474

Note return to page 645 1&lblank; Each your doing,] That is, your manner in each act crowns the act. Johnson.

Note return to page 646 2&lblank; but that your youth, And the true blood which peeps fairly through it,] So, Marlowe, in his Hero and Leander: “Through whose white skin, softer than soundest sleep, “With damaske eyes the ruby blood doth peep.” This poem was certainly published before 1600, being frequently quoted in a collection of verses entitled England's Parnassus, printed in that year. From that collection it appears, that Marlowe wrote only the two first Sestiads, and about 100 lines of the third, and that the remainder was written by Chapman. Of the Winter's Tale there is no earlier edition than that of the folio 1623. Malone.

Note return to page 647 3I think, you have As little skill to fear, &lblank;] To have skill to do a thing was a phrase then in use equivalent to our to have reason to do a thing. The Oxford editor, ignorant of this, alters it to: As little skill in fear. which has no kind of sense in this place. Warburton.

Note return to page 648 4Per. I'll swear for 'em.] I fancy this half line is placed to a wrong person. And that the king begins his speech aside: Pol. I'll swear for 'em, This is the prettiest, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 649 5He tells her something, That makes her blood look on't: &lblank;] Thus all the old editions. The meaning must be this. The prince tells her something, that calls the blood up into her cheeks, and makes her blush. She, but a little before, uses a like expression to describe the prince's sincerity: &lblank; your youth And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it, Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd. Theobald.

Note return to page 650 6&lblank; We stand, &c.] That is, we are now on our behaviour. Johnson.

Note return to page 651 7&lblank; a worthy feeding: &lblank;] Certainly breeding. Warburton. I conceive feeding to be a pasture, and a worthy feeding to be a tract of pasturage not inconsiderable, not unworthy of my daughter's fortune. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation is just. So, in Drayton's Moon-calf: “Finding the feeding for which he had toil'd “To have kept safe, by these vile cattle spoil'd.” Again, in the sixth song of the Polyolbion: “&lblank; so much that do rely “Upon their feedings, flocks, and their fertility.” Steevens.

Note return to page 652 8He looks like sooth: &lblank;] Sooth is truth. Obsolete. So, in Lylly's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Thou dost dissemble, but I mean good sooth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 653 9&lblank; doleful matter merrily set down; &lblank;] This seems to be another stroke aimed at the title-page of Preston's Cambises, “A lamentable Tragedy, mixed full of pleasant Mirth, &c.“ Steevens.

Note return to page 654 1&lblank; fadings: &lblank;] An Irish dance of this name is mentioned by B. and Jonson, in The Irish Masque at Court, vol. V. p. 421, 2: “&lblank; and daunsh a fading at te wedding.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, p. 416: “I will have him dance fading; fading is a fine jigg.” Tyrwhitt. So, in The Bird in a Cage, by Shirley, 1633: “But under her coats the ball be found. &lblank; “With a fading.” Again, in Ben Jonson's 97th epigram: “See you yond motion? not the old fading.” Steevens.

Note return to page 655 2&lblank; Whoop, do me no harm, good man.] This was the name of an old song. In the famous history of Fryar Bacon we have a ballad to the tune of, “Oh! do me no harme good man.” Farmer.

Note return to page 656 3&lblank; unbraided wares?] Surely we must rest braided, for such are all the wares mentioned in the answer. Johnson. I believe by unbraided wares, the Clown means, has he any thing besides laces which are braided, and are the principal commodity sold by ballad-singing pedlars. Yes, replies the servant, he has ribbons, &c. which are things not braided, but woven. The drift of the Clown's question, is either to know whether Autolycus has any thing better than is commonly sold by such vagrants; any thing worthy to be presented to his mistress: or, as probably, by enquiring for something which pedlars usually have not, to escape laying out his money at all. The following passage in Any Thing for a quiet Life, however, leads me to suppose that there is here some allusion which I cannot explain: “&lblank; She says that you sent ware which is not warrantable, braided ware, and that you give not London measure.” Again, in the Honest Lawyer, 1616: “A most fearful pestilence to happen among taylors. There's a statute lace shall undo them.” Steevens. Unbraided wares may be wares of the best manufacture. Braid in Shakespeare's All's Well, &c. act IV. sc. ii. signifies deceitful. Braided in Bailey's Dict. means faded, or having lost its colour; and why then may not unbraided import whatever is undamaged, or what is of the better sort? Several old statutes forbid the importation of ribbands, laces, &c. as “falsely and deceitfully wrought.” Tollet.

Note return to page 657 4&lblank; caddisses, &lblank;] I do not exactly know what caddisses are. In Shirley's Witty Fair One, 1633, one of the characters says: —“I will have eight velvet pages, and six footmen in caddis.” In the First Part of K. Hen. IV. I have supposed caddis to be ferret. Perhaps by six footmen in caddis, is meant six footmen with their liveries laced with such a kind of worsted stuff. As this worsted lace was particoloured, it might have received its title from cadesse, the ancient name for a daw. Steevens.

Note return to page 658 5&lblank; sleeve-band, &lblank;] Is put very properly by sir T. Hanmer; it was before sleeve-hand. Johnson. The old reading is right, or we must alter some passages in other authors. The word sleeve-hands occurs in Leland's Collectunea, 1770, vol. IV. p. 323: “A surcoat [of crimson velvet] furred with mynever pure, the coller, skirts, and sleeve-hands garnished with ribbons of gold.” So, in Cotgrave's Dict. “Poignet de la chemise,” is Englished the wristband, or gathering at the sleeve-hand of a shirt.” Again, in Leland's Collectanea, vol. IV. p. 293, king James's “shurt was broded with thred of gold,” and in p. 341, the word sleeve-hand occurs, and seems to signify the cuffs of a surcoat, as here it may mean the cuffs of a smock. I conceive, that the work about the square on't, signifies the work or embroidery about the bosom part of a shift, which might then have been of a square form, or might have a square tucker, as Anne Bolen and Jane Seymour have in Houbraken's engravings of the heads of illustrious persons. So, in Fairfax's translation of Tasso, b. xii. st. 64: “Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives, “Her curious square, imboss'd with swelling gold.” I should have taken the square for a gorget or stomacher, but for this passage in Shakespeare. Tollet. The following passage in John Grange's Garden, 1577, may likewise tend to the support of the ancient reading—sleeve-hand. In a poem called The Paynting of a Curtizan, he says: “Their smockes are all bewrought about the necke and hande.” Steevens.

Note return to page 659 6&lblank; poking-sticks of steel,] These poking-sticks were heated in the fire, and made use of to adjust the plaits of ruffs. In Marston's Malecontent, 1604, is the following instance:—“There is such a deale of pinning these ruffes, when the fine clean fall is worth them all:” and, again, “if you should chance to take a nap in an afternoon, your falling band requires no poking-stick to recover his form, &c.” So, in Middleton's comedy of Blurt Master Constable, 1602; “Your ruff must stand in print, and for that purpose get poking-sticks with fair long handles, lest they scorch your hands.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; Love is a rebato indeed: a rebato must be poak'd; now many women wear rebatoes, and many that wear rebatoes—must be poak'd.” Again, in the Roaring Girl, 1611: “&lblank; came in as I was poking my ruff.” Again, in Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “I leave my state to pins and poking-sticks, “To farthingales and frounces.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “Where's my ruff and poker, you blockhead? &lblank; “Your ruff and poker are, &c.” These poking-sticks are several times mentioned in Heywood's If you know not me you know Nobody, 1633, second part; and in the Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619, which has been attributed to Shakespeare. In the books of the Stationers' Company, July 1590, was entered “A ballat entitled Blewe Starche and Poking-sticks. Allowed under the hand of the Bishop of London.” Stowe informs us that “about the sixteenth yeere of the queene [Elizabeth] began the making of steele poking-stickes, and untill that time all lawndresses used setting stickes made of wood or bone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 660 7&lblank; Clamour your tongues, &lblank;] The phrase is taken from ringing. When bells are at the height, in order to cease them, the repetition of the strokes becomes much quicker than before; this is called clamouring them. The allusion is humourous. Warburton. The word clamour, when applied to bells, does not signify in Shakespeare a ceasing, but a continued ringing. Thus used in Much ado about Nothing, act V. sc. vii: Ben. &lblank; “If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb e'er he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bells ring and the widow weeps. Beat. “And how long is that, think you? Ben. “Question; why an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum.” But I should rather think he wrote—charm your tongues, as sir T. H. has altered it, as he uses the expression, Third Part of Henry VI. act V. sc. vi: K. Ed. “Peace wilful boy, or I shall charm your tongue.” And in Othello, act V. sc. viii: Iago. “Mistress, go to, charm your tongue. Emil. “I will not charm my tongue, I am, &c.” We meet with the same expression, and in the same sense in B. Jonson's Cynthia's Revels, act I. sc. i: Mercurio. “How now my dangerous braggart in decimo sexto; charm your skipping tongue, or I'll” &lblank; Gray.

Note return to page 661 8&lblank; you promis'd me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves.] Tawdry lace is thus described in Skinner, by his friend Dr. Henshawe: “Tawdrie lace, astrigmenta, timbriæ, seu fasciolæ, emtæ, Nundinis Sæ. Etheldredæ celebratis: Ut recte monet Doc. Thomas Henshawe.” Etymol. in voce. We find it in Spenser's Pastorals, Aprill: “And gird in your waste, “For more finenesse, with a tawdrie lace.” As to the other present, promised by the Clown to Mopsa, of sweet, or perfumed gloves, they are frequently mentioned by Shakespeare, and were very fashionable in the age of Elizabeth, and long afterwards. Thus Autolycus, in the song just preceding this passage, offers to sale: “Gloves as sweet as damask roses.” Stowe's Continuator, Edmund Howes, informs us, that the English could not “make any costly wash or perfume, until about the fourteenth or fifteenth of the queene [Elizabeth,] the right honourable Edward Vere earle of Oxford came from Italy, and brought with him gloves, sweet bagges, a perfumed leather jerkin, and other pleasant thinges: and that yeare the queene had a payre of perfumed gloves trimmed onlie with foure tuftes, or roses, of cullered silke. The queene took such pleasure in those gloves, that shee was pictured with those gloves upon her hands: and for many yeers after it was called the erle of Oxfordes perfume.” Stowe's Annals by Howes, edit. 1614, p. 868. col. 2. In the computus of the bursars of Trinity college, Oxford, for the year 1631, the following article occurs: “Solut. pro fumigandis chirothecis.” Gloves makes a constant and considerable article of expence in the earlier accompt-books of the college here mentioned; and without doubt in those of many other societies. They were annually given (a custom still subsisting) to the college-tenants, and often presented to guests of distinction. But it appears (at least, from accompts of the said college in preceding years) that the practice of perfuming gloves for this purpose was fallen into disuse soon after the reign of Charles the First. Warton. So, in the Life and Death of Jack Straw, a comedy, 1593: “Will you in faith, and I'll give you a tawdrie lace.” Tom, the miller, offers this present to the queen, if she will procure his pardon. It may be worth while to observe, that these tawdry laces were not the strings with which the ladies fasten their stays, but were worn about their heads, and their waists. So, in The Four Ps. 1569: “Brooches and rings, and all manner of beads, “Laces round and flat for women's heads.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song the second: “Of which the Naides and the blew Nereides make “Them tawdries for their necks.” In a marginal note it is observed that tawdries are a kind of necklaces worn by country wenches, Again, in the fourth song: “&lblank; not the smallest beck, “But with white pebbles makes her tawdries for her neck.” Again, in the Faithful Shepherdess of B. and Fletcher: “The primrose chaplet, tawdry lace, and ring.” Steevens.

Note return to page 662 9I love a ballad in print, a'-life; &lblank;] Theobald reads, as it has been hitherto printed,—or a life. The text, however, is right; only it should be printed thus:—a'-life. So, it is in B. Jonson: “&lblank; thou lovst a'-life “Their perfum'd judgment.” It is the abreviation, I suppose, of—at life; as a'-work is, of at work. Tyrwhitt. This restoration is certainly proper. So, in The Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Now in good deed I love them a'-life too.” Again, in Monsieur Thomas, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; a clean instep, and that I love a'-life.” Again, in a Trick to catch the Old One, 1616: “I love that sport a'-life, i'faith. Again, in Tom Tyler, &c. 1598: “Yes, marry, I love this gear a'-life.” A-life is the reading of the only ancient copy of the Winter's Tale, fol. 1623. Again, in Law Tricks, &c. 1608: “He loves to follow his occupation a'-life.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0475

Note return to page 663 1&lblank; a ballad, Of a fish &lblank;] Perhaps in later times prose has obtained a triumph over poetry, though in one of its meanest departments; for all dying speeches, confessions, narratives of murders, executions, &c. seem anciently to have been written in verse. Whoever was hanged or burnt, a merry, or a lamentable ballad (for both epithets are occasionally bestowed on these compositions) was immediately entered on the books of the Company of Stationers. Thus, in a subsequent scene of this play:— “Such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 664 2&lblank; sad &lblank;] For serious. Johnson.

Note return to page 665 3That doth utter all mens' ware-a.] To utter. To bring out, or produce. Johnson.

Note return to page 666 4Master, there are three carters, three shepherds, three neatherds, and three swine-herds, &lblank;] Thus all the printed copies hitherto. Now, in two speeches after this, these are called four three's of herdsmen. But could the carters properly be called herdsmen? At least, they have not the final syllable, herd, in their names; which, I believe, Shakespeare intended, all the four three's should have. I therefore guess that he wrote:—Master, there are three goat-herds, &c. And so, I think, we take in the four species of cattle usually tended by herdsmen, Theobald.

Note return to page 667 5&lblank; all men of hair; &lblank;] i. e. nimble, that leap as if they rebounded: The phrase is taken from tennis-balls, which were stuffed with hair. So, in Henry V. it is said of a courser. “He bounds as if his entrails were hairs,” Warburton. This is a strange interpretation. “Errors,” says Dryden, “flow upon the surface,” but there are men who will fetch them from the bottom. Men of hair, are hairy men, or satyrs. A dance of satyrs was no unusual entertainment in the middle ages. At a great festival celebrated in France, the king and some of the nobles personated satyrs dressed in close habits, tufted or shagged all over, to imitate hair. They began a wild dance, and in the tumult of their merriment one of them went too near a candle and set fire to his satyr's garb, the flame ran instantly over the loose tufts, and spread itself to the dress of those that were next him; a great number of the dancers were cruelly scorched, being neither able to throw off their coats nor extinguish them. The king had set himself in the lap of the dutchess of Burgundy, who threw her robe over him and saved him. Johnson.

Note return to page 668 6&lblank; bowling) &lblank;] Bowling, I believe, is here a term for a dance of smooth motion without great exertion of agility. Johnson.

Note return to page 669 7Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.] This is replied by the king in answer to the shepherd's saying, since these good men are pleased. Yet the Oxford editor, I can't tell why, gives this line to Florizel, since Florizel and the old man were not in conversation. Warburton.

Note return to page 670 8&lblank; or the fann'd snow,] So, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, “Fann'd by the eastern wind, turns to a crow, “When thou hold'st up thy hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 671 9&lblank; dispute his own estate?] Perhaps for dispute we might read compute; but dispute his estate may be the same with talk over his affairs. Johnson. Does not this allude to the next heir suing for the estate in cases of imbecillity, lunacy, &c. Chamier.

Note return to page 672 1Far than &lblank;] I think for far than we should read far as. We will not hold thee of our kin even so far off as Deucalion the common ancestor of all. Johnson. The old reading farre, i. e. further, is the true one. The ancient comparative of fer was ferrer. See the Glossaries to Robt. of Glocester and Robt. of Brunne. This, in the time of Chaucer, was softened into ferre. “But er I bere thee moche ferre.” H. of Fa. B. 2. v. 92. “Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre.” Knight's Tale, 2062. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 673 2I was not much afeard, &c.] The character is here finely sustained. To have made her quite astonished at the king's discovery of himself, had not become her birth; and to have given her presence of mind to have made this reply to the king, had not become her education. Warburton.

Note return to page 674 3You have undone a man of fourscore three, &c.] These sentiments, which the poet has heighten'd by a strain of ridicule that runs through them, admirably characterize the speaker; whose selfishness is seen in concealing the adventure of Perdita; and here supported, by shewing no regard for his son or her, but being taken up entirely with himself, though fourscore three. Warburton.

Note return to page 675 4Where no priest shovels-in dust. &lblank;] This part of the priest's office might be remembered in Shakespeare's time: it was not left off till the reign of Edward the VI. Farmer.

Note return to page 676 5And mar the seeds within! &lblank;] So, in Macbeth: “And nature's germins tumble all together.” Steevens.

Note return to page 677 6&lblank; and by my fancy: &lblank;] It must be remembered that fancy in our author very often, as in this place, means love. Johnson. So, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “Fair Helena in fancy following me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 678 7Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies] As chance has driven me to these extremities, so I commit myself to chance to be conducted through them. Johnson.

Note return to page 679 8Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down: The which shall point you forth at every fitting, What you must say; &lblank;] Every sitting, methinks, gives but a very poor idea. Every fitting, as I have ventur'd to correct the text, means every convenient opportunity: every juncture, when it is fit to speak of such or such a point. Theobald. The which shall point you forth at every sitting,] Every sitting, says Mr. Theobald, methinks, gives us but a very poor idea. But a poor idea is better than none; which it comes to, when he has alter'd it to every fitting. The truth is, the common reading is very expressive; and means, at every audience you shall have of the king and council. The council-days being, in our author's time, called, in common speech, the sittings. Warburton. &lblank; at every sitting,] Howel, in one of his letters, says: “My lord president hopes to be at the next sitting in York.” Farmer.

Note return to page 680 9But not take in the mind.] To take in anciently meant to conquer, to get the better of. So, in Anthony and Cleopatra: “He could so quickly cut th' Ionian seas, “And take in Toryne.” Steevens.

Note return to page 681 1&lblank; I have sold all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, &lblank;] A pomander was a little ball made of perfumes, and worn in the pocket, or about the neck, to prevent infection in times of plague. In a tract, intitled, Certain necessary Directions, as well for curing the Plague, as for preventing Infection, printed 1636, there are directions for making two sorts of pomanders, one for the rich, and another for the poor. Gray. In Lingua, or a Combat of the Tongue, &c. 1607, is the following receipt given, act IV. sc. iii: “Your only way to make a good pomander is this. Take an ounce of the purest garden mould, cleans'd and steep'd seven days in change of motherless rose-water. Then take the best labdanum, benjoin, both storaxes, amber-gris and civet and musk. Incorporate them together and work them into what form you please. This, if your breath be not too valiant, will make you smell as sweet as my lady's dog.” The speaker represents Odor. Steevens.

Note return to page 682 2&lblank; as if my trinkets had been hallowed, &lblank;] This alludes to beads often sold by the Romanists, as made particularly efficacious by the touch of some relick. Johnson.

Note return to page 683 3&lblank; a placket, &lblank;] Placket is properly the opening in a woman's petticoat. It is here figuratively used. So perhaps, again, in K. Lear: “Keep thy hand out of plackets,” Steevens.

Note return to page 684 4&lblank; boot.] That is, something over and above, or as we now say, something to boot. Johnson.

Note return to page 685 5&lblank; If I thought it were not a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would do't: &lblank;] This is the reading of sir T. Hanmer, instead of, if I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I'd not do it. Johnson.

Note return to page 686 6&lblank; pedler's excrement. &lblank;] Is pedler's beard. Johnson. So, in the old tragedy of Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “Whose chin bears no impression of manhood, “Not a hair, not an excrement.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; dally with my excrement, with my mustachio.” Again, in the Comedy of Errors: “Why is Time such a niggard of his hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?” Steevens.

Note return to page 687 7&lblank; therefore they do not give us the lye.] Dele the negative: the sense requires it. The joke is this, they have a profit in lying to us, by advancing the price of their commodities; therefore they do lie. Warburton. The meaning is, they are paid for lying, therefore they do not give us the lye, they sell it us. Johnson.

Note return to page 688 8&lblank; insinuate or toze &lblank;] The first folio reads—at toaze; the second—or toaze. To teaze, or toze, is to disentangle wool or flax. Autolycus adopts a phraseology which he supposes to be intelligible to the Clown, who would not have understood the word insinuate, without such a comment on it. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0482 &lblank; Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze from thee &c.] To insinuate, I believe, means here, to cajole, to talk with condescension and humility. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “With death she humbly doth insinuate, “Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories, “His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.” The word toaze is used in Measure for Measure, in the same sense as here: “&lblank; We'll toaze you joint by joint, “But we will know this purpose.” Malone.

Note return to page 689 9Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant; &lblank;] This satire, on the bribery of courts, is not unpleasant. Warburton. This satire, or this pleasantry, I confess myself not well to understand. Johnson. As he was a suitor from the country, the Clown supposes his father should have brought a present of game, and therefore imagines, when Autolycus asks him what advocate he has, that by the word advocate he means a pheasant. Steevens.

Note return to page 690 1&lblank; a great man, &lblank; by the picking on's teeth.] It seems, that to pick the teeth was, at this time, a mark of some pretension to greatness or elegance. So, the Bastard, in King John, speaking of the traveller, says: “He and his pick-tooth at my worship's mess.” Johnson.9Q0483

Note return to page 691 2&lblank; the hottest day, &c.] That is, the hottest day foretold in the almanack. Johnson.

Note return to page 692 3&lblank; being something gently considered, &lblank;] Means, I having a gentlemanlike consideration given me, i. e. a bribe, will bring you, &c. So, in the Three Ladies of London, 1584: “&lblank; sure, sir, I'll consider it hereafter if I can. “What consider me? dost thou think that I am a bribe-taker.” Again, in the Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Thou shalt be well considered, there's twenty crowns in earnest.” Steevens.

Note return to page 693 4In former editions: Destroy'd the sweet'st companion, that e'er man Bred his hopes out of, true. Paul. Too true, my lord:] A very slight examination will convince every intelligent reader, that true, here has jumped out of its place in all the editions. Theobald.

Note return to page 694 5Or, from the all that are, took something good,] This is a favourite thought; it was bestowed on Miranda and Rosalind before. Johnson.

Note return to page 695 6Than to rejoice, the former queen is well? The speaker is here giving reasons why the king should marry again. One reason is, pity to the state; another, regard to the continuance of the royal family; and the third, comfort and consolation to the king's affliction. All hitherto is plain, and becoming a privy-counsellor. But now comes in, what he calls, a holy argument for it, and that is a rejoicing that the former queen is well and at rest. To make this argument of force, we must conclude that the speaker went upon this opinion, that a widower can never heartily rejoice that his former wife is at rest, till he has got another. Without doubt Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; What were more holy, Than to rejoice the former queen? This will. What, says the speaker, can be a more holy motive to a new choice, than that it will glad the spirit of the former queen? for she was of so excellent a disposition that the happiness of the king and kingdom, to be procured by it, will give her extreme pleasure. The poet goes upon the general opinion, that the spirits of the happy in the other world are concerned for the condition of their surviving friends. Warburton. This emendation is one of those of which many may be made; it is such as we may wish the author had chosen, but which we cannot prove that he did chuse; the reasons for it are plausible, but not cogent. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0484

Note return to page 696 7&lblank; would make her sainted spirit, &c.] In the old copies: &lblank; would make her sainted spirit Again possess her corps; and, on this stage, (Where we offenders now appear) soul-vext, And begin, &c. 'Tis obvious, that the grammar is defective; and the sense consequently wants supporting. The slight change, I have made, cures both: and, surely, 'tis an improvement to the sentiment for the king to say, that Paulina and he offended his dead wife's ghost with the subject of a second match; rather than in general terms to call themselves offenders, sinners. Theobald. The Revisal reads: Were we offenders now &lblank; very reasonably. Johnson. We might read, changing the place of one word only: &lblank; would make her sainted spirit Again possess her corps; and on this stage (Where we offenders now appear, soul-vex'd) Begin—And why to me? &lblank; The blunders of the folio are so numerous, that it should seem when a word dropt out of the press, they were careless into which line they inserted it. Steevens.

Note return to page 697 8Affront his eye.] To affront, is to meet. Johnson.

Note return to page 698 9Good madam, I have done.] Surely this hemistich should be divided between Cleomenes and Paulina: Cle. Good madam, &lblank; Paul. I have done: Yet if, &c. The modern editors have read: Good madam, pray have done. Steevens.

Note return to page 699 1&lblank; Sir, you yourself Have said, and writ so; &lblank;] The reader must observe, that so relates not to what precedes, but to what follows, that, she had not been &lblank; equall'd. Johnson.

Note return to page 700 2&lblank; whose daughter His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: &lblank;] This is very ungrammatical and obscure. We may better read: &lblank; whose daughter His tears proclaim'd her parting with her. The prince first tells that the lady came from Lybia, the king, interrupting him, says, from Smalus? from him, says the prince, whose tears, at parting, shewed her to be his daughter. Johnson. The obscurity arises from want of a proper punctuation. By placing a comma after his, I think the sense is clear'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 701 for, earge, read, charge.

Note return to page 702 3Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,] The poet must have wrote: Your choice is not so rich in birth as beauty; Because Leontes was so far from disparaging, or thinking meanly of her worth, that, on the contrary, he rather esteems her a treasure; and, in his next speech to the prince, calls her his precious mistress. Warburton. Worth is as proper as birth. Worth signifies any kind of worthiness, and among others that of high descent. The king means that he is sorry the prince's choice is not in other respects as worthy of him as in beauty. Johnson.

Note return to page 703 4&lblank; with clipping her. &lblank;] i. e. embracing her. So, Sidney: “He, who before shun'd her, to shun such harms, “Now runs and takes her in his clipping arms.” Steevens.

Note return to page 704 5&lblank; weather-beaten &lblank;] Thus the modern editors. The old copy—weather-bitten. Hamlet says: “The air bites shrewdly;” and the Duke, in As you like it:—“when it bites and blows.” Weather-bitten, therefore, may mean, corroded by the weather. Steevens.

Note return to page 705 6&lblank; most marble there, &lblank;] i. e. most petrified with wonder. Steevens.

Note return to page 706 7&lblank; that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; &lblank;] All the encomiums, put together, that have been conferred on this excellent artist in painting and architecture, do not amount to the fine praise here given him by our author. He was born in the year 1492, lived just that circle of years which our Shakespeare did, and died eighteen years before the latter was born. Fine and generous, therefore, as this tribute of praise must be owned, yet it was a strange absurdity, sure, to thrust it into a tale, the action of which is supposed within the period of heathenism, and whilst the oracles of Apollo were consulted. This, however, was a known and wilful anachronism; which might have slept in obscurity, perhaps Mr. Pope will say, had I not animadverted on it. Theobald. &lblank; that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; &c.] Mr. Theobald says: All the encomiums put together, that have been conferred on this excellent artist in painting and architecture, do not amount to the fine praise here given him by our author. But he is ever the unluckiest of all critics when he passes judgment on beauties and defects. The passage happens to be quite unworthy Shakespeare. 1st. He makes his speaker say, that was Julio Romano the God of Nature, he would outdo Nature. For this is the plain meaning of the words, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, he would beguile nature of her custom. 2dly, He makes of this famous painter, a statuary; I suppose confounding him with Michael Angelo; but, what is worst of all, a painter of statues, like Mrs. Salmon of her wax-work. Warburton. Poor Theobald's encomium on this passage is not very happily conceived or expressed, nor is the passage of any eminent excellence; yet a little candour will clear Shakespeare from part of the impropriety imputed to him. By eternity he means only immortality, or that part of eternity which is to come; so we talk of eternal renown and eternal infamy. Immortality may subsist without divinity, and therefore the meaning only is, that if Julio could always continue his labours, he would mimick nature. Johnson. I wish we could understand this passage, as if Julio Romano had only painted the statue carved by another. Ben Jonson makes Doctor Rut in the Magnetic Lady, act V. sc. viii. say: “&lblank; all city statues must he painted, “Else they be worth nought i'their subtil judgments.” Sir Henry Wotton, in his Elements of Architecture, mentions the fashion of colouring even regal statues for the stronger expression of affection, which he takes leave to call an English barbarism. Such, however, was the practice of the time: and unless the supposed statue of Hermione were painted, there could be no ruddiness upon her lip, nor could the veins verily seem to bear blood, as the poet expresses it afterwards. Tollet. Sir H. Wotton could not possibly know what has been lately proved by sir William Hamilton in the MS. accounts which accompany several valuable drawings of the discoveries made at Pompeii, and presented by him to our Antiquary Society, viz. that it was usual to colour statues among the ancients. In the chapel of Isis in the place already mentioned, the image of that goddess had been painted over, as her robe is of a purple hue. Mr. Tollet has since informed me, that Junius, on the painting of the ancients, observes from Pausanias and Herodotus, that sometimes the statues of the ancients were coloured after the manner of pictures. Steevens.

Note return to page 707 8&lblank; of her custom, &lblank;] That is, of her trade,—would draw her customers from her. Johnson.

Note return to page 708 9Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access? &lblank;] It was, I suppose, only to spare his own labour that the poet put this whole scene into narrative, for though part of the transaction was already known to the audience, and therefore could not properly be shewn again, yet the two kings might have met upon the stage, and after the examination of the old shepherd, the young lady might have been recognised in sight of the spectators. Johnson.

Note return to page 709 1 &lblank; franklins say it, &lblank;] Franklin is a freeholder, or yeoman, a man above a villain, but not a gentleman. Johnson.

Note return to page 710 2&lblank; tall fellow of thy hands, &lblank;] Tall, in that time, was the word used for stout. Johnson. The rest of the phrase occurs in Gower De Confessione Amantis, lib. v. fol. 114: “A noble knight eke of his honde.” Again, in the comedy of Wily Beguiled: “Ay, and he's a tall fellow, a man of his hands too.” Again, in the anonymous play of K. Henry V: “I tell you he is a man of his hands.” A man of his hands had anciently two significations. It either meant an adroit fellow who handled his weapon well, or a fellow skilful in thievery. Phraseology like this is often met with. So, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529: “Thou art a good man of thyne habite.” Steevens.

Note return to page 711 for woulst'st, read, would'st.

Note return to page 712 3&lblank; therefore I keep it Lovely, apart: &lblank;] Lovely, i. e. charily, with more than ordinary regard and tenderness. The Oxford editor reads: Lovely, apart: &lblank; As if it could be apart without being alone. Warburton. I am yet inclined to lonely, which in the old angular writing cannot be distinguished from lovely. To say, that I keep it alone, separate from the rest, is a pleonasm which scarcely any nicety declines. Johnson.

Note return to page 713 4O patience;] That is, Stay a while, be not so eager. Johnson.

Note return to page 714 5Indeed, my lord, If I had thought, the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you (for the stone is mine) I'd not have shew'd it.] I do not know whether we should not read, without a parenthesis: &lblank; for the stone i'th' mine I'd not have shew'd it. A mine of stone, or marble, would not perhaps at present be esteemed an accurate expression, but it may still have been used by Shakespeare, as it has been used by Holinshed. Descript. of Engl. c. ix. p. 235: “Now if you have regard to their ornature, how many mines of sundrie kinds of coarse and fine marble are there to be had in England?”—And a little lower he uses the same word again for a quarry of stone, or plaister: “And such is the mine of it, that the stones thereof lie in flakes, &c.” Tyrwhitt. To change an accurate expression for an expression confessedly not accurate, has somewhat of retrogradation. Johnson.

Note return to page 715 6Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already &lblank;] The sentence compleated is: &lblank; but that, methinks, already I converse with the dead. But there his passion made him break off. Warburton.

Note return to page 716 7The fixure of her eye has motion in't,] This is sad nonsense. We should read: The fissure of her eye &lblank; i. e. the socket, the place where the eye is. Warburton. Fixure is right. The meaning is, that her eye, though fixed, as in an earnest gaze, has motion in it. Edwards. The word fixure, which Shakespeare has used both in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and Troilus and Cressida, is likewise employ'd by Drayton in the first canto of the Barons' Wars: “Whose glorious fixure in so clear a sky.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0487

Note return to page 717 8You precious winners all; &lblank;] You who by this discovery have gained what you desired, may join in festivity, in which I, who have lost what never can be recovered, can have no part. Johnson.

Note return to page 718 [9] &lblank; I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there My mate, that's never to be found again, Lament 'till I am lost.] So, Orpheus, in the exclamation which Johannes Secundus has written for him, speaking of his grief for the loss of Euridice, says: “Sic gemit arenti viduatus ab arbore turtur.” It is observable, that the two poets, in order to heighten the image, have used the very same phrase, having both placed their turtles on a dry and withered bough. I have since discovered the same idea in Lodge's Rosalynd or Euphues' golden Legacie, 1592, a book which Shakespeare is known to have read: “A turtle sat upon a leaveless tree, “Mourning her absent pheer “With sad and sorry cheere, &lblank; “And whilst her plumes she rents, “And for her love laments, &c.” Chapman seems to have imitated this passage in his Widow's Tears, 1612: “Whether some wandering Eneas should enjoy your reversion, or whether your true turtle would sit mourning on a withered bough till Atropos cut her throat.” Malone. Of this play no edition is known published before the folio of 1623. This play, as Dr. Warburton justly observes, is, with all its absurdities, very entertaining. The character of Autolycus is very naturally conceived, and strongly represented. Johnson.

Note return to page 719 *I have taken a liberty with this tragedy, which might be practised with almost equal propriety in respect of a few others; I mean, the retrenchment of such stage-directions as are not supplied by the oldest copy. Mr. Rowe had tricked out Macbeth, like many more of Shakespeare's plays, in all the foppery of the reign of queen Anne. Every change of situation produced notice that the scene lay in an anti-chamber, a royal apartment, or a palace; and even some variations and starts of passion were set down in a manner no less ostentatious and unnecessary. Steevens.

Note return to page 720 Of this play there is no edition more ancient than that of 1623. Most of the notes which the present editor has subjoined to this play, were published by him in a small pamphlet in 1745. Johnson.

Note return to page 721 *Enter three Witches.] In order to make a true estimate of the abilities and merit of a writer, it is always necessary to examine the genius of his age, and the opinions of his contemporaries. A poet who should now make the whole action of his tragedy depend upon enchantment, and produce the chief events by the assistance of supernatural agents, would be censured as transgressing the bounds of probability, be banished from the theatre to the nursery, and condemned to write fairy tales instead of tragedies; but a survey of the notions that prevailed at the time when this play was written, will prove that Shakespeare was in no danger of such censures, since he only turned the system that was then universally admitted, to his advantage, and was far from overburthening the credulity of his audience. The reality of witchcraft or enchantment, which, though not strictly the same, are confounded in this play, has in all ages and countries been credited by the common people, and in most, by the learned themselves. The phantoms have indeed appeared more frequently, in proportion as the darkness of ignorance has been more gross; but it cannot be shown, that the brightest gleams of knowledge have at any time been sufficient to drive them out of the world. The time in which this kind of credulity was at its height, seems to have been that of the holy war, in which the Christians imputed all their defeats to enchantments or diabolical opposition, as they ascribed their success to the assistance of their military saints; and the learned Dr. Warburton appears to believe (Suppl. to the Introduction to Don Quixote) that the first accounts of enchantments were brought into this part of the world by those who returned from their eastern expeditions. But there is always some distance between the birth and maturity of folly as of wickedness: this opinion had long existed, though perhaps the application of it had in no foregoing age been so frequent, nor the reception so general. Olympiodorus, in Photius's extracts, tells us of one Libanius, who practised this kind of military magic, and having promised &grx;&grwa;&grr;&gri;&grst; &gror;&grp;&grl;&gri;&grt;&grwc;&grn; &grk;&gra;&grt;&grag; &grb;&gra;&grr;&grb;&graa;&grr;&grw;&grn; &gres;&grn;&gre;&grr;&grg;&gre;&gric;&grn;, to perform great things against the Barbarians without soldiers, was, at the instances of the empress Placidia, put to death, when he was about to have given proofs of his abilities. The empress shewed some kindness in her anger, by cutting him off at a time so convenient for his reputation. But a more remarkable proof of the antiquity of this notion may be found in St. Chrysostom's book de Sacerdotio, which exhibits a scene of enchantments not exceeded by any romance of the middle age: he supposes a spectator overlooking a field of battle attended by one that points out all the various objects of horror, the engines of destruction, and the arts of slaughter. &grD;&gre;&gri;&grk;&grn;&grua;&grt;&gro; &grd;&greg; &gresa;&grt;&gri; &grp;&gra;&grr;&grag; &grt;&gro;&gric;&grst; &grer;&grn;&gra;&grn;&grt;&gria;&gro;&gri;&grst; &grk;&gra;&grig; &grp;&gre;&grt;&gro;&grm;&grea;&grn;&gro;&gru;&grst; &grisa;&grp;&grp;&gro;&gru;&grst; &grd;&gri;&graa; &grt;&gri;&grn;&gro;&grst; &grm;&gra;&grg;&grg;&gra;&grn;&gre;&gria;&gra;&grst;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &gror;&grp;&grl;&gria;&grt;&gra;&grst; &grd;&gri;&grap; &gras;&grea;&grr;&gro;&grst; &grf;&gre;&grr;&gro;&grm;&grea;&grn;&gro;&gru;&grst;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grp;&graa;&grs;&grh;&grn; &grg;&gro;&grh;&grt;&gre;&gria;&gra;&grst; &grd;&grua;&grn;&gra;&grm;&gri;&grn; &grk;&gra;&grig; &gris;&grd;&grea;&gra;&grn;. Let him then proceed to shew him in the opposite armies horses flying by enchantment, armed men transported through the air, and every power and form of magic. Whether St. Chrysostom believed that such performances were really to be seen in a day of battle, or only endeavoured to enliven his description, by adopting the notions of the vulgar, it is equally certain, that such notions were in his time received, and that therefore they were not imported from the Saracens in a later age; the wars with the Saracens however gave occasion to their propagation, not only as bigotry naturally discovers prodigies, but as the scene of action was removed to a great distance. The Reformation did not immediately arrive at its meridian, and though day was gradually encreasing upon us, the goblins of witchcraft still continued to hover in the twilight. In the time of queen Elizabeth was the remarkable trial of the witches of Warbois, whose conviction is still commemorated in an annual sermon at Huntingdon. But in the reign of king James, in which this tragedy was written, many circumstances concurred to propagate and confirm this opinion. The king, who was much celebrated for his knowledge, had, before his arrival in England, not only examined in person a woman accused of witchcraft, but had given a very formal account of the practices and illusions of evil spirits, the compacts of witches, the ceremonies used by them, the manner of detecting them, and the justice of punishing them, in his dialogues of Dæmonologie, written in the Scottish dialect, and published at Edinburgh. This book was, soon after his accession, reprinted at London, and as the ready way to gain king James's favour was to flatter his speculations, the system of Dæmonologie was immediately adopted by all who desired either to gain preferment or not to lose it. Thus the doctrine of witchcraft was very powerfully inculcated; and as the greatest part of mankind have no other reason for their opinions than that they are in fashion, it cannot be doubted but this persuasion made a rapid progress, since vanity and credulity co-operated in its favour. The infection soon reached the parliament, who, in the first year of king James, made a law, by which it was enacted, chap. xii. That “if any person shall use any invocation or conjuration of any evil or wicked spirit; 2. or shall consult, covenant with, entertain, employ, feed or reward any evil or cursed spirit to or for any intent or purpose; 3. or take up any dead man, woman or child out of the grave,—or the skin, bone, or any part of the dead person, to be employed or used in any manner of witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment; 4. or shall use, practise or exercise any sort of witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment; 5. whereby any person shall be destroyed, killed, wasted, consumed, pined, or lamed in any part of the body; 6. That every such person being convicted shall suffer death.” This law was repealed in our own time. Thus, in the time of Shakespeare, was the doctrine of witchcraft at once established by law and by the fashion, and it became not only unpolite, but criminal, to doubt it; and as prodigies are always seen in proportion as they are expected, witches were every day discovered, and multiplied so fast in some places, that bishop Hall mentions a village in Lancashire, where their number was greater than that of the houses. The jesuits and sectaries took advantage of this universal error, and endeavoured to promote the interest of their parties by pretended cures of persons afflicted by evil spirits; but they were detected and exposed by the clergy of the established church. Upon this general infatuation Shakespeare might be easily allowed to found a play, especially since he has followed with great exactness such histories as were then thought true; nor can it be doubted that the scenes of enchantment, however they may now be ridiculed, were both by himself and his audience thought awful and affecting. Johnson.

Note return to page 722 1When the battle's lost and won:] i. e. the battle, in which Macbeth was then engaged. These wayward sisters, as we may see in a note on the third scene of this act, were much concerned in battles. Hæ nominantur Valkyriæ; quas quodvis ad prælium Odinus mittit. Warburton.

Note return to page 723 2There to meet with Macbeth.] Thus the old copy. Mr. Pope, and after him other editors read: There I go to meet Macbeth. The insertion, however, seems to be injudicious. To meet with Macbeth was the general design of all the witches in going to the heath, and not the particular business or motive of any one of them in distinction from the rest; as the interpolated words, I go, in the mouth of the third witch, would most certainly imply. Steevens.

Note return to page 724 3&lblank; Gray-malkin! &lblank;] From a little black letter book, entitled, Beware the Cat, 1584. I find it was permitted to a Witch to take on her a cattes body nine times. Mr. Upton observes, that to understand this passage we should suppose one familiar calling with the voice of a cat, and another with the croaking of a toad. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0489

Note return to page 725 4Paddock calls: &lblank; Anon. &lblank;] This, as well as the two following lines, is given in the folio to the three Witches. Preceding editors have appropriated the first of them to the second Witch. According to the late Dr. Goldsmith, and some other naturalists, a frog is called a paddock in the North; as in the following instance in Cæsar and Pompey, by Chapman, 1602: “&lblank; Paddockes, todes, and watersnakes.” In Shakespeare, however, it certainly means a toad. The representation of St. James in the witches' house (one of the set of prints taken from the painter called Hellish Breugel, 1566) exhibits witches flying up and down the chimney on brooms; and before the fire sit grimalkin and paddock, i. e. a cat and a toad, with several baboons. There is a cauldron boiling, with a witch near it, cutting out the tongue of a snake, as an ingredient for the charm. Steevens.

Note return to page 726 5Fair is foul, and foul is fair:] i. e. we make these sudden changes of the weather. And Macbeth, speaking of this day, soon after says: So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Warburton. The common idea of witches has always been, that they had absolute power over the weather, and could raise storms of any kind, or allay them, as they pleased. In conformity to this notion, Macbeth addresses them in the fourth act: Though you untye the winds, &c. Steevens. I believe the meaning is, that to us, perverse and malignant as we are, fair is foul, and foul is fair. Johnson. This expression seems to have been proverbial. Spenser has it in the 4th book of the Faery Queen: “Then fair grew foul, and foul grew fair in sight.” Farmer.

Note return to page 727 6This is the serjeant,] Holinshed is the best interpreter of Shakespeare in his historical plays; for he not only takes his facts from him, but often his very words and expressions. That historian, in his account of Macdowald's rebellion, mentions, that on the first appearance of a mutinous spirit among the people, the king sent a serjeant at arms into the country, to bring up the chief offenders to answer the charge preferred against them, but they, instead of obeying, misused the messenger with sundry reproaches, and finally slew him. This serjeant at arms is certainly the origin of the bleeding Serjeant introduced on this occasion. Shakespeare just caught the name from Holinshed, but the rest of the story not suiting his purpose, he does not adhere to it. The stage direction of entrance, where the bleeding Captain is mentioned, was probably the work of the player editors, and not of Shakespeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 728 7Doubtful long it stood;] Mr. Pope, who first introduced the word long to assist the metre, has thereby injured the sense. If the comparison was meant to coincide in all circumstances, the struggle could not be long. Steevens.

Note return to page 729 8&lblank; Macdonel] According to Holinshed we should read Macdowald. The folio reads Macdonwald. Steevens.

Note return to page 730 9&lblank; from the western isles Of Kernes and Gallow-glasses is supply'd;] Whether supply'd of, for supply'd from or with, was a kind of Grecism of Shakespeare's expression; or whether of be a corruption of the editors, who took Kernes and Gallow-glasses, which were only light and heavy-armed foot, to be the names of two of the western islands, I don't know. Hinc conjecturæ vigorem etiam adjiciunt arma quædam Hibernica, Gallicis antiquis similia, jacula nimirum peditum levis armaturæ quos Kernos vocant, nec non secures & loricæ ferreæ peditum illorum gravioris armaturæ, quos Galloglassios appellant. Waræi Antiq. Hiber. cap. vi. Warburton. Of and with are indiscriminately used by our ancient writers. So, in the Spanish Tragedy: “Perform'd of pleasure by your son the prince.” Again, in God's Revenge against Murder, hist. vi: “Sypontus in the mean time is prepared of two wicked gondaliers, &c.” Again, in The History of Helyas Knight of the Sun, bl. l. no date: “&lblank; he was well garnished of spear, sword, and armoure, &c.” These are a few out of a thousand instances which might be brought to the same purpose. Steevens.

Note return to page 731 1And fortune, on his damned quarry smiling,] Thus the old copy; but I am inclined to read quarrel. Quarrel was formerly used for cause, or for the occasion of a quarrel, and is to be found in that sense in Holinshed's account of the story of Macbeth, who, upon the creation of the prince of Cumberland, thought, says the historian, that he had a just quarrel to endeavour after the crown. The sense therefore is, Fortune smiling on his execrable cause, &c. This is followed by Dr. Warburton. Johnson. The word quarrel occurs in Holinshed's relation of this very fact, and may be regarded as a sufficient proof of its having been the term here employed by Shakespeare: “Out of the western isles there came to Macdowald a great multitude of people, to assist him in that rebellious quarrel.” Besides, Macdowald's quarry, (i. e. game) must have consisted of Duncan's friends, and would the speaker then have applied the epithet—damned to them? and what have the smiles of fortune to do over a carnage, when we have defeated our enemies? Her business is then at an end. Her smiles or frowns are no longer of any consequence. We only talk of these, while we are pursuing our quarrel, and the event of it is uncertain. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0490

Note return to page 732 2And ne'er shook hands, &c.] The old copy reads—which never. Steevens.

Note return to page 733 3&lblank; he unseam'd him from the nave to the chops,] We seldom hear of such terrible cross blows given and received but by giants and miscreants in Amadis de Gaule. Besides it must be a strange aukward stroke that could unrip him upwards from the navel to the chops. But Shakespeare certainly wrote: &lblank; he unseam'd him from the nape to the chops, i. e. cut his skull in two; which might be done by a Highlander's sword. This was a reasonable blow, and very naturally expressed, on supposing it given when the head of the wearied combatant was reclining downwards at the latter end of a long duel. For the nape is the hinder part of the neck, where the vertebræ join to the bone of the skull. So, in Coriolanus: “O! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks.” The word unseamed likewise, becomes very proper; and alludes to the future which goes cross the crown of the head in that direction called the sutura sagittalis; and which, consequently, must be opened by such a stroke. It is remarkable, that Milton, who in his youth read and imitated our poet much, particularly in his Comus, was misled by this corrupt reading. For in the manuscript of that poem, in Trinity-College library, the following lines are read thus; “Or drag him by the curls, and cleave his scalpe “Down to the hippes.” &lblank; An evident imitation of this corrupted passage. But he alter'd it with better judgment to: “&lblank; to a foul death “Curs'd as his life.” Warburton. The learned commentator is certainly right in his alteration of nave into nape; but notwithstanding his sagacity in that point, he seems to be mistaken in his description of the stroke. To unseam, is to dissever, to cut in two. The word is thus used by B. and Fletcher in the first of their Four Plays in One: “&lblank; not a vein runs here, “But Sophocles would unseam.” To unseam a man from the nape to the chops, is a plain exact description as can be given of cutting off the head at the neck by a blow from the hinder part quite through to the fore part where it joins the chops, according to our common idea of decollation. The words will scarcely bear the other interpretation of cutting his scull in two through the crown of the head and sagittal suture. That would be unseaming him down to the nape and the chops; but Macbeth's blow is from the nape to the chops. The blow in Milton was copied from the romances he was so fond of, which are full of such downward cleaving strokes; and could never be taken from the aukward, upward, almost impossible one in this corrupted passage of Shakespeare. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0491

Note return to page 734 4As when the sun 'gins his reflection] Here are two readings in the copies, gives, and 'gins, i. e. begins. But the latter I think is the right, as founded on observation, that storms generally come from the east. As from the place (says he) whence the sun begins his course, (viz. the east) shipwrecking storms proceed, so, &c. For the natural and constant motion of the ocean is from east to west; and the wind has the same general direction. Præcipua & generalis [ventorum] causa est ipse Sol qui aërem rarefacit & attenuat. Aër enim rarefactus multo majorem locum postulat. Inde fit ut Aër à sole impulsus alium vicinum aërem magno impetu protrudat; cumque Sol ab Oriente in occidentem circumrotetur, præcipuus ab eo aëris impulsus fiet versus occidentem. Varenii Geogr. l. I. c. xiv. prop. 10. See also Dr. Halley's Account of the Trade Winds of the Monsoons. This being so, it is no wonder that storms should come most frequently from that quarter; or that they should be most violent, because there is a concurrence of the natural motions of wind and wave. This proves the true reading is 'gins; the other reading not fixing it to that quarter. For the sun may give its reflection in any part of its course above the horizon; but it can begin it only in one. The Oxford editor, however, sticks to the other reading, gives: and says, that, by the sun's giving his reflexion, is meant the rain-bow, the strongest and most remarkable reflexion of any the sun gives. He appears by this to have as good a hand at reforming our physics as our poetry. This is a discovery, that shipwrecking storms proceed from the rainbow. But he was missed by his want of skill in Shakespeare's phraseology, who, by the sun's reflexion, means only the sun's light. But while he is intent on making his author speak correctly, he slips himself. The rainbow is no more a reflexion of the sun than a tune is a fiddle. And, though it be the most remarkable effect of reflected light, yet it is not the strongest. Warburton. There are not two readings: both the old folios have 'gins. Johnson. The thought is expressed with some obscurity, but the plain meaning is this:—As the same quarter, whence the blessing of day-light arises, sometimes sends us, by a dreadful reverse, the calamities of storms and tempests; so the glorious event of Macbeth's victory, which promised us the comforts of peace, was immediately succeeded by the alarming news of the Norweyan invasion. The natural history of the winds, &c. is foreign to the explanation of this passage. Shakespeare does not mean, in conformity to any theory, to say that storms generally come from the east. If it be allowed that they sometimes issue from the quarter, it is sufficient for the purpose of his comparison. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0492

Note return to page 735 5&lblank; thunders break;] The word break is wanting in the oldest copy. The other folios and Rowe read breaking. Mr. Pope made the emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 736 6Discomfort swells. &lblank;] Discomfort the natural opposite to comfort. Well'd, for flowed, was an emendation. The common copies have, discomfort swells. Johnson.

Note return to page 737 7As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks; So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:] Mr. Theobald has endeavoured to improve the sense of this passage by altering the punctuation thus: &lblank; they were As cannons overcharg'd, with double cracks So they redoubled strokes &lblank;] He declares, with some degree of exultation, that he has no idea of a cannon charged with double cracks; but surely the great author will not gain much by an alteration which makes him say of a hero, that he redoubles strokes with double cracks, an expression not more loudly to be applauded, or more easily pardoned than that which is rejected in its favour. That a cannon is charged with thunder, or with double thunders, may be written, not only without nonsense, but with elegance, and nothing else is here meant by cracks, which in the time of this writer was a word of such emphasis and dignity, that in this play he terms the general dissolution of nature the crack of doom. The old copy reads: They doubly redoubled strokes. Johnson. I have followed the old reading. In Rich. II. act I. we find this passage in support of it: “And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, “Fall, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 738 8Or memorize another Golgotha,] Memorize, for make memorable. Warburton. &lblank; memorize another Golgotha,] That is, to transmit another Golgotha to posterity. The word, which some suppose to have been coined by Shakespeare, is used by Spenser in a sonnet to lord Buckhurst prefixed to his Pastorals. 1579: “In vaine I thinke, right honourable lord, “By this rude rime to memorize thy name.” Warton. The word is likewise used by Chapman, in his translation of the second book of Homer, 1598. “&lblank; which let thy thoughts be sure to memorize.” Again, in The Fawne, by Marston, 1606: “&lblank; oh, let this night “Be ever memoriz'd with prouder triumphs.” Again, in Daniel's dedication to the tragedy of Philotas: “Design our happiness to memorize.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 5: “Which to succeeding times shall memorize your stories.” Again, in the 21st song; “Except poor widows' cries to memorize your theft.” Again, in the Miracles of Moses: “That might for ever memorize this deed.” And again, in a copy of verses prefixed to sir Arthur Gorges's translation of Lucan, 1614: “Of them whose acts they mean to memorize.” Steevens.

Note return to page 739 9Enter Rosse and Angus.] As only the thane of Rosse is spoken to, or speaks any thing in the remaining part of this scene, Angus is a superfluous character, the king expressing himself in the singular number; Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane? I have printed it, Enter Rosse only. Steevens.

Note return to page 740 1&lblank; So should he look, That seems to speak things strange.] The meaning of this passage as it now stands, is, so should he look, that looks as if he told things strange. But Rosse neither yet told strange things, nor could look as if he told them; Lenox only conjectured from his air that he had strange things to tell, and therefore undoubtedly said: What haste looks through his eyes? So should he look, that teems to speak things strange. He looks like one that is big with something of importance; a metaphor so natural that it is every day used in common discourse. Johnson. The following passage in Cymbeline seems to afford no unapt comment upon this: “&lblank; one but painted thus, “Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd, &c.” Again, in the Tempest: “&lblank; prithee, say on: “The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim “A matter from thee. &lblank;” Again, in K. Richard II: “Men judge by the complexion of the sky, &c. “So may you, by my dull and heavy eye, “My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0494

Note return to page 741 2&lblank; flout the sky,] To flout is to dash any thing in another's face. Warburton. To flout does never signify flout is rather to mock or insult. The banners are very poetically described as waving in mockery or defiance of the sky. So, in K. Edward III. 1599: “And new replenish'd pendants cuff the air, “And beat the wind, that for their gaudiness “Struggles to kiss them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 742 3Confronted him with self-comparisons,] The disloyal Cawdor, says Mr. Theobald. Then comes another, and says, a strange forgetfulness in Shakespeare, when Macbeth had taken the Thane of Cawdor prisoner, not to know that he was fallen into the king's displeasure for rebellion. But this is only blunder upon blunder. The truth is, by him, in this verse, is meant Norway; as the plain construction of the English requires. And the assistance the thane of Cawdor had given Norway was underhand; which Rosse and Angus, indeed, had discovered; but was unknown to Macbeth. Cawdor being in the court all this while, as appears from Angus's speech to Macbeth, when he meets him to salute him with the title, and insinuates his crime to be lining the rebel with hidden help and 'vantage. Warburton. The second blunderer was the present editor. Johnson.

Note return to page 743 4&lblank; with self-comparisons,] i. e. give him as good as he brought, shew'd he was his equal. Warburton.

Note return to page 744 5&lblank; Saint Colmes' inch,] The folio reads: At Saint Colmes' ynch. Colmes-inch, now called Inchcomb, a small island lying in the Firth of Edinburgh, with an abbey upon it, dedicated to St. Columb; called by Camden Inch Colm, or the Isle of Columba. The modern editors, without authority, read: Saint Colmes'-kill Isle; and very erroneously; for Colmes' Inch, and Colm-kill are two different islands; the former lying on the eastern coast, near the place where the Danes were defeated; the latter in the western seas, being the famous Iona, one of the Hebrides. Holinshed thus mentions the whole circumstance: “The Danes that escaped, and got once to their ships, obtained of Macbeth for a great sum of gold, that such of their friends as were slaine, might be buried in Saint Colmes' Inch. In memory whereof many old sepultures are yet in the said Inch, graven with the arms of the Danes.” Inch, or Inshe in the Irish and Erse languages, signifies an island. See Lhuyd's Archælogia. Steevens.

Note return to page 745 6Aroint, thee &lblank;] Aroint, or avaunt, be gone. Pope. Aroint thee, witch! &lblank;] In one of the folio editions the reading is Anoint thee, in a sense very consistent with the common account of witches, who are related to perform many supernatural acts by the means of unguents, and particularly to fly through the air to the places where they meet at their hellish festivals. In this sense, anoint thee, witch, will mean, Away, witch, to your infernal assembly. This reading I was inclined to favour, because I had met with the word aroint in no other author; till looking into Hearne's Collections I found it in a very old drawing, that he has published, in which St. Patrick is represented visiting hell, and putting the devils into great confusion by his presence, of whom one that is driving the damned before him with a prong, has a label issuing out of his mouth with these words, out out Arongt, of which the last is evidently the same with aroint, and used in the same sense as in this passage. Johnson. Rynt you witch, quoth Besse Locket to her mother, is a north country proverb. The word is used again in K. Lear: “And aroint thee witch, aroint thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 746 7&lblank; the rump-fed ronyon &lblank;] The chief cooks in noblemen's families, colleges, religious houses, hospitals, &c. anciently claimed the emoluments or kitchen fees of kidneys, fat, trotters, rumps, &c. which they sold to the poor. The weird sister in this scene, as an insult on the poverty of the woman who had called her witch, reproaches her poor abject state, as not being able to procure better provision than offals, which are considered as the refuse of the tables of others. Colepeper. So, in Ben Jonson's Staple of News, old Penny-boy says to the Cook: “And then remember meat for my two dogs; “Fat flaps of mutton, kidneys, rumps, &e.” Again, in Wit at several Weapons, by B. and Fletcher: “A niggard to your commons, that you're fain “To size your belly out with shoulder fees, “With kidneys, rumps, and cues of single beer.” In the Book of Haukynge, &c. (commonly called the Book of St. Albans) bl. l. no date, among the proper terms used in kepyng of haukes, it is said: “The hauke tyreth upon rumps.” Steevens.

Note return to page 747 8&lblank; ronyon cries.] i. e. scabby or mangy woman. Fr. rogneux, royne, scurf. Thus Chaucer, in the Romaunt of the Rose, p. 551: “&lblank; her necke “Withouten bleine, or scabbe, or roine.” Shakespeare uses the word again in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0497

Note return to page 748 9&lblank; in a sieve I'll thither sail,] Reginald Scott, in his Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584, says it was believed that witches “could sail in an egg shell, a cockle or muscle shell, through and under the tempestuous seas.” Again, sir W. Davenant, in his Albovine, 1629: “He sits like a witch sailing in a sieve.” Steevens.

Note return to page 749 1And like a rat without a tail,] It should be remembered (as it was the belief of the times) that though a witch could assume the form of any animal she pleased, the tail would still be wanting. The reason given by some of the old writers, for such a deficiency, is, that though the hands and feet, by an easy change, might be converted into the four paws of a beast, there was still no part about a woman which corresponded with the length of tail common to almost all four-footed creatures. Steevens.

Note return to page 750 2I'll give thee a wind.] This free gift of a wind is to be considered as an act of sisterly friendship, for witches were supposed to sell them. So, in Summer's last Will and Testament, 1600: “&lblank; in Ireland and in Denmark both, “Witches for gold will sell a man a wind, “Which in the corner of a napkin wrap'd, “Shall blow him safe unto what coast he will.” Drayton, in his Moon-calf, says the same. Steevens.

Note return to page 751 3And the very points they blow;] As the word very is here of no other use than to fill up the verse, it is likely that Shakespeare wrote various, which might be easily mistaken for very, being either negligently read, hastily pronounced, or imperfectly heard. Johnson. The very points are the true exact points. Very is used here (as in a thousand instances which might be brought) to express the declaration more emphatically. Instead of points, however, the ancient copy reads ports. But this cannot be right; for though the witch, from her power over the winds, might justly enough say that she had all the points and quarters from whence they blow, she could not with any degree of propriety declare that she had the ports to which they were directed. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0498

Note return to page 752 4&lblank; the shipman's card.] The card is the paper on which the winds are marked under the pilot's needle. So, in the Loyal Subject, by B. and Fletcher: “The card of goodness in your minds, that shews you “When you sail false.” Steevens.

Note return to page 753 5&lblank; dry as hay:] So, Spenser, in his Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 9: “But he is old and withered as hay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 754 6He shall live a man forbid:] i. e. as one under a curse, an interdiction. So, afterwards in this play: “By his own interdiction stands accurs'd.” So among the Romans, an outlaw's sentence was, Aquæ & Ignis interdictio; i. e. he was forbid the use of water and sire, which imply'd the necessity of banishment. Theobald. Mr. Theobald has very justly explained forbid by accursed, but without giving any reason of his interpretation. To bid is originally to pray, as in this Saxon fragment:   He is wis þat bit & bote, &c. He is wise that prays and makes amends. As to forbid therefore implies to prohibit, in opposition to the word bid in its present sense, it signifies by the same kind of opposition to curse, when it is derived from the same word in its primitive meaning. Johnson.

Note return to page 755 7shall he dwindle, &c.] This mischief was supposed to be put in execution by means of a waxen figure, which represented the person who was to be consumed by slow degrees. So, in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “&lblank; it wastes me more “Than were't my picture fashion'd out of wax, “Stuck with a magick needle, and then buried “In some foul dunghill.” So, Holinshed, speaking of the witchcraft practised to destroy king Duffe: “&lblank; found one of the witches roasting upon a wooden broch an image of wax at the fire, resembling in each feature the king's person, &c.” “&lblank; for as the image did waste afore the fire, so did the bodie of the king break forth in sweat. And as for the words of the inchantment, they served to keep him still waking from sleepe, &c. This may serve to explain the foregoing passage: Sleep shall neither night nor day, Hang upon his penthouse lid. Steevens.

Note return to page 756 8The weyward sisters, hand in hand,] The witches are here speaking of themselves: and it is worth an enquiry why they should stile themselves the weyward, or wayward sisters. This word, in its general acceptation, signifies, perverse, froward, moody, obstinate, untractable, &c. and is every where so used by our Shakespeare. To content ourselves with two or three instances: “Fy, fy, how wayward is this foolish love, “That, like a testy babe, &c.” Two Gentlemen of Verona. “This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy.” Love's Labour Lost. “And which is worse, all you have done “Is but for a wayward son.” It is improbable the witches would adopt this epithet to themselves, in any of these senses, and therefore we are to look a little farther for the poet's word and meaning. When I had the first suspicion of our author being corrupt in this place, it brought to my mind the following passage in Chaucer's Troilus and Crésseide, lib. iii. v. 618: “But O fortune, executrice of wierdes.” Which word the Glossaries expound to us by fates, or destinies. I was soon confirmed in my suspicion, upon happening to dip into Heylin's Cosmography, where he makes a short recital of the story of Macbeth and Banquo. “These two,” says he, “travelling together through a forest, were met by three fairies, witches, wierds. The Scots call them, &c.” I presently recollected, that this story must be recorded at more length by Holinshed, with whom, I thought, it was very probable, that our author had traded for the materials of his tragedy, and therefore confirmation was to be fetched from this fountain. Accordingly, looking into the History of Scotland, I found the writer very prolix and express, from Hector Boethius, in his remarkable story; and, p. 170, speaking of these witches, he uses this expression: “But afterwards the common opinion was, that these women were either the weird sisters; that is, as ye would say, the Goddesses of Destiny, &c.” Again, a little lower: “The words of the three weird sisters also (of whom before ye have heard) greatly encouraged him thereunto.” And in several other paragraphs there this word is repeated. I believe, by this time, it is plain, beyond a doubt, that the word wayward has obtained in Macbeth, where the witches are spoken of, from the ignorance of the copyists, who are not acquainted with the Scotch term; and that in every passage, where there is any relation to these witches or wizards, my emendation must be embraced, and we must read weird. Theobald. The weyward sisters, hand in hand,] Mr. Theobald had found out who these weyward sisters were; but observed they were called, in his authentic Holinshed, weird sisters; and so would needs have weyward a corruption of the text, because it signifies perverse, froward, &c. and it is improbable (he says) that the witches should adopt this epithet to themselves. It was hard that, when he knew so much, he should not know a little more; that weyward had anciently the very same sense, as weird; and was, indeed, the very same word differently spelt; having acquired its later signification from the quality and temper of these imaginary witches. But this is being a critic like him who had discovered that there were two Hercules's; and yet did not know that he had two next-door neighbours of one and the same name. As to these weyward sisters, they were the Fates of the northern nations; the three hand-maids of Odin. Hæ nominantur Valkyriæ, quas quodvis ad prælium Odinus mittit. Hæ viros morti destivant, & victoriam gubernant. Gunna, & Rota, & parcarum minima Skullda: per aëra & maria equitant semper ad morituros eligendos; & cædes in potestate habent. Bartholinus de Causis contemptæ à Danis adhuc Gentilibus mortis. It is for this reason that Shakespeare makes them three; and calls them, Posters of the sea and land; and intent only upon death and mischief. However, to give this part of his work the more dignity, he intermixes, with this northern, the Greek and Roman superstitions; and puts Hecate at the head of their enchantments. And to make it still more familiar to the common audience (which was always his point) he adds, for another ingredient, a sufficient quantity of our own country superstitions concerning witches; their beards, their cats, and their broomsticks. So that his witch-scenes are like the charm they prepare in one of them; where the ingredients are gathered from every thing shocking in the natural world, as here, from every thing absurd in the moral. But as extravagant as all this is, the play has had the power to charm and bewitch every audience from that time to this. Warburton. Wierd comes from the Anglo-Saxon &wynn;yrd, and is used as a substantive signifying a prophecy by the translator of Hector Boethius in the year 1541, as well as for the Destinies by Chaucer and Holinshed. Of the weirdis gevyn to Makbeth and Banqhuo, is the argument of one of the chapters. Gawin Douglas, in his translation of Virgil, calls the Parcæ the weird sisters; and in Ane verie excellent and delectabill Treatise intitulit Philotus, quhairin we may persave the greit inconveniences that fallis out in the Mariage betweene Age and Zouth, Edinburgh, 1605, the word appears again; “How dois the quheill of fortune go, “Quhat wickit wierd has wrocht our wo.” Again: “Quhat neidis Philotus to think ill,   “Or zit his wierd to warie?” The other method of spelling was merely a blunder of the transcriber or printer. The Valkyriæ, or Valkyriur, were not barely three in number. The learned critic might have found in Bartholinus, not only Gunna, Rota, et Skullda, but also Scogula, Hilda, Gondula, and Geiroscogula. Bartholinus adds that their number is yet greater, according to other writers who speak of them. They were the cup-bearers of Odin, and conductors of the dead. They were distinguished by the elegance of their forms, and it would be as just to compare youth and beauty with age and deformity, as the Valkyriæ of the North with the Witches of Shakespeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 757 9How far is't call'd to Fores? &lblank;] The king at this time resided at Fores, a town in Murray, not far from Inverness. “It fortuned, (says Holinshed) as Macbeth and Banquo journeyed towards Fores, where the king then lay, they went sporting by the way, without other company, save only themselves, when suddenly in the midst of a laund, there met them three women in strange and wild apparell, resembling creatures of the elder world, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 758 1That man may question? &lblank;] Are ye any beings with which man is permitted to hold converse, or of whom it is lawful to ask questions? Johnson.

Note return to page 759 2&lblank; your bearde &lblank;] Witches were supposed always to have hair on their chins. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “&lblank; Some women have beards, marry they are half witches.” Steevens.

Note return to page 760 3All hail, Macbeth! &lblank;] It hath lately been repeated from Mr. Guthrie's Essay upon English Tragedy, that the portrait of Macbeth's wife is copied from Buchanan, “whose spirit, as well as words, is translated into the play of Shakespeare: and it had signified nothing to have pored only on Holinshed for facts.”—“Animus etiam, per se serox, prope quotidianis conviciis uxoris (quæ omnium confiliorum ei erat conscia) stimulabatur.”—This is the whole, that Buchanan says of the Lady, and truly I see no more spirit in the Scotch, than in the English chronicler. “The wordes of the three weird sisters also greatly encouraged him [to the murder of Duncan], but specially his wife lay sore upon him to attempt the thing, as she that was very ambitious, brenning in unquenchable desire to beare the name of a queene.” Edit. 1577, p. 244. This part of Holinshed is an abridgment of Johne Bellenden's translation of the noble clerk, Hector Boece, imprinted at Edingburgh, in fol. 1541. I will give the passage as it is found there. “His wyfe impacient of lang tary (as all wemen ar) specially quhare they are desirus of ony purpos, gaif hym gret artation to pursew the third weird, that sche micht be ane quene, calland hym oft tymis febyl cowart and nocht desyrus of honouris, sen he durst not assailze the thing with manheid and curage, quhilk is offerit to hym be beniuolence of fortoun. Howbeit sindry otheris hes assailzeit sic thinges afore with maist terribyl jeopardyis, quhen thay had not sic sickernes to succeid in the end of thair laubouris as he had.” p. 173. But we can demonstrate, that Shakespeare had not the story from Buchanan. According to him, the weird sisters salute Macbeth: “Una Angusiæ Thanum, altera Moraviæ, tertia Regem.”— Thane of Angus, and of Murray, &c. but according to Holinshed, immediately from Bellenden, as it stands in Shakespeare: “The first of them spake and sayde, All hayle Makbeth Thane of Glammis,—the second of them sayde, Hayle Makbeth Thane of Cawder; but the third sayde, All hayle Makbeth, that hereafter shall be king of Scotland.” p. 243. 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, thane of Glamis! 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter! Here too our poet found the equivocal predictions, on which his hero so fatally depended: “He had learned of certaine wysards, how that he ought to take heede of Macduffe;—and surely hereupon had he put Macduffe to death, but a certaine witch whom he had in great trust, had tolde, that he should neuer be slain with man borne of any woman, nor vanquished till the wood of Bernane came to the castell of Dunsinane.” p. 244. And the scene between Malcolm and Macduff in the fourth act is almost literally taken from the Chronicle. Farmer.

Note return to page 761 4&lblank; thane of Glamis!] The thaneship of Glamis was the ancient inheritance of Macbeth's family. The castle where they lived is still standing, and was lately the magnificent residence of the earl of Strathmore. See a particular description of it in Mr. Gray's letter to Dr. Wharton, dated from Glames Castle. Steevens.

Note return to page 762 5&lblank; thane of Cawdor!] Dr. Johnson observes in his Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland, that part of Calder castle, from which Macbeth drew his second title, is still remaining. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 6Are ye fantastical, &lblank;] By fantastical is not meant, according to the common signification, creatures of his own brain; for he could not be so extravagant to ask such a question: but it is used for supernatural, spiritual. Warburton. By fantastical, he means creatures of fantasy or imagination; the question is, Are these real beings before us, or are we deceived by illusions of fancy? Johnson. So, in Reginald Scott's Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584: “He affirmeth these transubstantiations to be but fantastical, not according to the veritie, but according to the appearance.” The same expression occurs in All's Lost by Lust, 1633, by Rowley: “&lblank; or is that thing, “Which should supply the place of soul in thee, “Merely phantastical?” Shakespeare, however, took the word from Holinshed, who in his account of the witches, says; “This was reputed at first but some vain fantastical illusion by Macbeth and Banquo.” Steevens.

Note return to page 764 7Of noble having, &lblank;] Having is estate, possession, fortune. So, in Twelfth Night: “&lblank; My having is not much; “I'll make division of my present store: “Hold; there is half my coffer.” Again, in the old metrical romance of Syr Bevys of Hampton, bl. 1. no date: “And when he heareth this tydinge, “He will go theder with great having.” Steevens.

Note return to page 765 8By Sinel's death, &lblank;] The father of Macbeth. Pope.

Note return to page 766 9&lblank; eaten of the insane root,] Mr. Theobald has a long and learned note on these words; and, after much puzzling, he at length proves from Hector Boethius, that this root was a berry. Warburton. &lblank; eaten of the insane root,] Shakespeare alludes to the qualities anciently ascribed to hemlock. So, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “You gaz'd against the sun, and so blemished your sight; or else you have eaten of the roots of hemlock, that makes mens' eyes conceit unseen objects.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Sejanus: “&lblank; they lay that hold upon thy senses, “As thou hadst snuft up hemlock.” Steevens.

Note return to page 767 1His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine, or his: &lblank;] i. e. private admiration of your deeds, and a desire to do them publick justice by commendation, contend in his mind for pre-eminence. —Or—There is a contest in his mind whether he should indulge his desire of publishing to the world the commendations due to your heroism, or whether he should remain in silent admiration of what no words could celebrate in proportion to its desert. Steevens.

Note return to page 768 2&lblank; As thick as hail,] Was Mr. Pope's correction. The old copy has: &lblank; As thick as tale Can post with post: &lblank; which perhaps is not amiss, meaning that the news came as thick as a tale can travel with the post. Or we may read, perhaps yet better: &lblank; As thick as tale Came post with post; &lblank; That is, posts arrived as fast as they could be counted. Johnson. So, in K. Hen. VI. P. III. act II. sc. i: “Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, “Were brought, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 769 3&lblank; with Norway; &lblank;] The folio reads: &lblank; with those of Norway. Steevens.

Note return to page 770 4&lblank; trusted home,] i. e. carried as far as it will go. Steevens.

Note return to page 771 5Might yet enkindle you &lblank;] Enkindle, for to stimulate you to seek. Warburton.

Note return to page 772 6&lblank; swelling act] Swelling is used in the same sense in the prologue to Hen. V: —“princes to act, “And monarchs to behold the swelling scene.” Steevens.

Note return to page 773 7This supernatural solliciting] Solliciting for information. Warburton. Solliciting is rather, in my opinion, incitement than information. Johnson.

Note return to page 774 8&lblank; why do I yield &lblank;] Yield, not for consent, but for to be subdued by. Warburton. To yield is, simply, to give way to. Johnson.

Note return to page 775 9&lblank; Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings:] Macbeth, while he is projecting the murder, is thrown into the most agonizing affright at the prospect of it: which soon recovering from, thus he reasons on the nature of his disorder. But imaginings are so far from being more or less than present fears, that they are the same things under different words. Shakespeare certainly wrote: &lblank; Present feats Are less than horrible imaginings: i. e. when I come to execute this murder, I shall find it much less dreadful than my frighted imagination now presents it to me. A consideration drawn from the nature of the imagination. Warburton. Present fears are fears of things present, which Macbeth declares, and every man has found, to be less than the imagination presents them while the objects are yet distant. Fears is right. Johnson. So, in the Tragedie of Crœsus, 1604, by lord Sterline: “For as the shadow seems more monstrous still, “Than doth the substance whence it hath the being, “So th' apprehension of approaching ill “Seems greater than itself, whilst fears are lying.” Steevens.

Note return to page 776 1&lblank; single state of man, &lblank;] The single state of man seems to be used by Shakespeare for an individual, in opposition to a commonwealth, or conjunct body. Johnson.

Note return to page 777 2&lblank; function Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is, But what is not.] All powers of action are oppressed and crushed by one overwhelming image in the mind, and nothing is present to me but that which is really future. Of things now about me I have no perception, being intent wholly on that which has yet no existence. Johnson.

Note return to page 778 3Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.] I suppose every reader is disgusted at the tautology in this passage, Time and the hour, and will therefore willingly believe that Shakespeare wrote it thus: Come what come may, Time! on; &lblank; the hour runs through the roughest day. Macbeth is deliberating upon the events which are to befal him, but finding no satisfaction from his own thoughts, he grows impatient of reflection, and resolves to wait the close without harrassing himself with conjectures. Come what come may. But to shorten the pain of suspense, he calls upon Time in the usual stile of ardent desire, to quicken his motion: Time! on! &lblank; He then comforts himself with the reflection that all his perplexity must have an end: &lblank; the hour runs through the roughest day. This conjecture is supported by the passage in the letter to his lady, in which he says, they referred me to the coming on of time, with Hail, king that shalt be. Johnson. Time and the hour &lblank;] Time is painted with an hour-glass in his hand. This occasioned the expression. Warburton. By this, I confess I do not with his two last commentators imagine is meant either the tautology of time and the hour, or an allusion to time painted with an hour-glass, or an exhortation to time to hasten forward, but rather to say tempus & hora, a time and occasion, will carry the thing through, and bring it to some determined point and end, let its nature be what it will. This note is taken from an Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare, &c. by Mrs. Montagu. Such tautology is common to Shakespeare. “The very head and front of my offending,” is little less reprehensible. Time and the hour, is time with his hours. Steevens. The same expression is used by a writer nearly contemporary with Shakespeare: “Neither can there be any thing in the world more acceptable to me than death, whose hower and time if they were as certayne, &c.” Fenton's Tragical Discourses, 1579. Again, in Davison's Poems, 1621: “Time's young howres attend her still, “And her eyes and cheeks do fill “With fresh youth and beauty.” Again, in Hoffman's Tragedy, 1631: “The hour, the place, the time of your arrive.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0501

Note return to page 779 4&lblank; my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. &lblank;] My head was worked, agitated, put into commotion. Johnson.

Note return to page 780 5The interim having weigh'd it, &lblank;] This intervening portion of time is almost personified: it is represented as a cool impartial judge; as the pauser Reason. Steevens.

Note return to page 781 6With one that saw him die: &lblank;] The behaviour of the thane of Cawdor corresponds in almost every circumstance with that of the unfortunate earl of Essex, as related by Stowe, p. 793. His asking the queen's forgiveness, his confession, repentance, and concern about behaving with propriety on the scaffold, are minutely described by that historian. Such an allusion could not fail of having the desired effect on an audience, many of whom were eye witnesses to the severity of that justice which deprived the age of one of its greatest ornaments, and Southampton, Shakespeare's patron, of his dearest friend. Steevens.

Note return to page 782 7&lblank; studied in his death,] Instructed in the art of dying. It was usual to say studied, for learned in science. Johnson.

Note return to page 783 8To find the mind's construction in the face:] The construction of the mind is, I believe, a phrase peculiar to Shakespeare; it implies the frame or disposition of the mind, by which it is determined to good or ill. Johnson.

Note return to page 784 9Which do but what they should, by doing every thing Safe toward your love and honour.] Of the last line of this speech, which is certainly, as it is now read, unintelligible, an emendation has been attempted, which Dr. Warburton and Mr. Theobald once admitted as the true reading: &lblank; our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants, Which do but what they should, in doing every thing, Fiefs to your love and honour. My esteem for these critics inclines me to believe that they cannot be much pleased with these expressions fiefs to love, or fiefs to honour, and that they have proposed this alteration rather because no other occured to them, than because they approved of it. I shall therefore propose a bolder change, perhaps with no better success, but sua cuique placent. I read thus: &lblank; our duties Are to your throne and state, chilldren and servants, Which do but what they should, in doing nothing, Save toward your love and honour. We do but perform our duty when we contract all our views to your service, when we act with no other principle than regard to your love and honour. It is probable that this passage was first corrupted by writing safe for save, and the lines then stood thus: &lblank; doing nothing Safe toward your love and honour. which the next transcriber observing to be wrong, and yet not being able to discover the real fault, altered to the present reading. Dr. Warburton has since changed fiefs to fief'd, and Hanmer has altered safe to shap'd. I am afraid none of us have hit the right word. Johnson. Mr. Upton gives the word safe as an instance of an adjective used adverbially; and says that it means here, with safety, security, and suretiship. Dr. Kenrick proposes to read: Safe to ward your love and honour. To ward is to defend. So, in Titus Andronicus: “&lblank; it was a hand that warded him “From thousand dangers.” Again, more appositely in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; for the best ward of mine honour, is rewarding my dependants.” Again, in K. Richard III. act V: “Then, if you fight against God's enemies, “God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers.” Dr. Kenrick would certainly be right, if instead of love and honour, the words had been crown and honour, but there is somewhat of obscurity in the idea of defending a prince's love in safety. Steevens.

Note return to page 785 1&lblank; to Inverness,] Dr. Johnson observes, in his Journey to the Western Isles of Scotland, that the walls of the castle of Macbeth at Inverness are yet standing. Steevens.

Note return to page 786 2The prince of Cumberland! &lblank;] So, Holinshed, Hist. of Scotland, p. 171: “Duncan having two sonnes, &c. he made the elder of them, called Malcolme, prince of Cumberland, as it were thereby to appoint him successor in his kingdome immediatlie after his decease. Mackbeth sorely troubled herewith, for that he saw by this means his hope sore hindered, (where, by the old laws of the realme the ordinance was, that if he that should succeed were not of able age to take the charge upon himself, he that was next of bloud unto him should be admitted) he began to take counsel how he might usurpe the kingdome by force, having a just quarrel so to doe, (as he tooke the matter) for that Duncane did what in him lay to defraud him of all manner of title and claime, which he might, in time to come, pretend unto the crowne.” The crown of Scotland was originally not hereditary. When a successor was declared in the life-time of a king, (as was often the case) the title of Prince of Cumberland was immediately bestowed on him as the mark of his designation. Cumberland was at that time held by Scotland of the crown of England, as a fief. Steevens.

Note return to page 787 3&lblank; by the perfectest report, &lblank;] By the best intelligence. Dr. Warburton would read, perfected, and explains report by prediction. Little regard can be paid to an emendation that instead of clearing the sense, makes it more difficult. Johnson.

Note return to page 788 4&lblank; thou'd'st have, great Glamis, That which cries, thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that, &c.] As the object of Macbeth's desire is here introduced speaking of itself, it is necessary to read, &lblank; thou'd'st have, great Glamis, That which cries, thus thou must do, if thou have me. Johnson.

Note return to page 789 5And that which rather, &c.] Perhaps the poet wrote: And that's what rather, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 790 6That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;] I meet with the same expression in lord Sterline's Julius Cæsar, 1607: “Thou in my bosom us'd to pour thy spright.” There is no earlier edition of Macbeth than that of 1623. Malone.

Note return to page 791 7Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal. &lblank;] For seem, the sense evidently directs us to read seek. The crown to which fate destines thee, and which preternatural agents endeavour to bestow upon thee. The golden round is the diadem. Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal. Metaphysical for supernatural. But doth seem to have thee crown'd withal, is not sense. To make it so, it should be supplied thus: doth seem desirous to have. But no poetic licence would excuse this. An easy alteration will restore the poet's true meaning: &lblank; doth seem To have crown'd thee withal. i. e. they seem already to have crown'd thee, and yet thy disposition at present hinders it from taking effect. Warburton. The words, as they now stand, have exactly the same meaning. Such arrangement is sufficiently common among our ancient writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 792 8&lblank; The raven himself is hoarse,] Dr. Warburton reads: &lblank; The raven himself's not hoarse, yet I think the present words may stand. The messenger, says the servant, had hardly breath to make up his message; to which the lady answers mentally, that he may well want breath, such a message would add hoarseness to the raven. That even the bird, whose harsh voice is accustomed to predict calamities, could not croak the entrance of Duncan but in a note of unwonted harshness. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0508

Note return to page 793 9&lblank; Come all you spirits] The word all was added by some of the editors to supply the deficiency of the metre, and is not found in the old copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 794 1&lblank; mortal thoughts, &lblank;] This expression signifies not the thoughts of mortals, but murtherous, deadly, or destructive designs. So, in act V: “Hold fast the mortal sword.” And in another place: “With twenty mortal murthers.” Johnson. &lblank; Come you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, &c.] In Pierce Penniless his Supplication to the Devil, by Nashe, 1595, (a very popular pamphlet of that time) our author might have found a particular description of these spirits, and of their office. “The second kind of devils, which he most employeth, are those northern Martii, called the spirits of revenge, and the authors of massacres, and seedmen of mischief; for they have commission to incense men to rapines, sacrilege, theft, murder, wrath, fury, and all manner of cruelties: and they command certain of the southern spirits to wait upon them, as also great Arioch, that is termed the spirit of revenge.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0509

Note return to page 795 2&lblank; nor keep peace between The effect, and it! &lblank;] The intent of lady Macbeth evidently is to wish that no womanish tenderness, or conscientious remorse, may hinder her purpose from proceeding to effect; but neither this, nor indeed any other sense, is expressed by the present reading, and therefore it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare wrote differently, perhaps thus: That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fall purpose, nor keep pace between The effect and it. &lblank; To keep pace between, may signify to pass between, to intervene. Pace is on many occasions a favourite of Shakespeare's. This phrase is indeed not usual in this sense, but was it not its novelty that gave occasion to the present corruption? Johnson. The sense is, that no compunctious visitings of nature may prevail upon her, to give place in her mind to peaceful thoughts, or to rest one moment in quiet, from the hour of her purpose to its full completion in the effect. Revisal. This writer thought himself perhaps very sagacious that he found a meaning which nobody missed, the difficulty still remains how such a meaning is made by the words. Johnson.

Note return to page 796 3&lblank; and it! &lblank;] The folio reads, and hit. Steevens. Her purpose was to be effected by action. To keep peace between the effect and purpose, I should therefore think meant, to delay the execution of her purpose. For as long as there should be a peace between the effect and purpose, or in other words, till hostilities were commenced, till some action should be performed, her purpose could not be carried into execution. There is no need of alteration. Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0511

Note return to page 797 4&lblank; take my milk for gall, &lblank;] Take away my milk, and put gall into the place. Johnson.

Note return to page 798 5You wait on nature's mischief! &lblank;] Nature's mischief is mischief done to nature, violation of nature's order committed by wickedness. Johnson.

Note return to page 799 6&lblank; Come, thick night, &c.] A similar invocation is found in A Warning for faire Women, 1599, a tragedy which was certainly prior to Macbeth: “Oh sable night, sit on the eye of heaven, “That it discern not this black deed of darkness! “My guilty soul, burnt with lust's hateful fire, “Must wade through blood to obtain my vile desire: “Be then my coverture thick ugly night! “The light hates me, and I do hate the light.” Malone.

Note return to page 800 7And pall thee &lblank;] i. e. wrap thyself in a pall. Warburton. A pall is a robe of state. So, in the ancient black letter romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys, no date; “The knyghtes were clothed in pall.” Again, in Milton's Penseroso: “Sometime let gorgeous tragedy “In scepter'd pall come sweeping by.” Dr. Warburton seems to mean the covering which is thrown over the dead. Steevens.

Note return to page 801 8That my keen knife &lblank;] The word knife which at present has a familiar meaning, was anciently used to express a sword. So, in the old black letter romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys, no date: “Through Goddes myght, and his knyfe, “There the gyaunte lost his lyfe.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. i. c. 6: “&lblank; the red-cross knight was slain with paynim knife.” Steevens.

Note return to page 802 9the blanket of the dark,] Drayton, in the 26th song of his Polyolbion, has an expression resembling this: “Thick vapours that, like rugs, still hang the troubled air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 803 1To cry, Hold, hold! &lblank;] On this passage there is a long criticism in the Rambler. Johnson. In this criticism the epithet dun is objected to as a mean one. Milton, however, appears to have been of a different opinion, and has represented Satan as flying “&lblank; in the dun air sublime.” Steevens. To cry, Hold, hold! &lblank;] The thought is taken from the old military laws which inflicted capital punishment upon “whosoever shall strike stroke at his adversary, either in the heat or otherwise, if a third do cry hold, to the intent to part them; except that they did fight a combat in a place inclosed: and then no man shall be so hardy as to bid hold, but the general.” P. 264 of Mr. Bellay's Instructions for the Wars, translated in 1589. Tollet. Mr. Tollet's note will likewise illustrate the last line in Macbeth's concluding speech: “And damn'd be him who first cries, hold, enough!” Steevens.

Note return to page 804 2Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!] Shakespeare has supported the character of lady Macbeth, by repeated efforts, and never omits any opportunity of adding a trait of ferocity, or a mark of the want of human feelings, to this monster of his own creation. The softer passions are more obliterated in her than in her husband, in proportion as her ambition is greater. She meets him here on his arrival from an expedition of danger, with such a salutation as would have become one of his friends or vassals; a salutation apparently fitted rather to raise his thoughts to a level with her own purposes, than to testify her joy at his return, or manifest an attachment to his person: nor does any sentiment expressive of love or softness fall from her throughout the play. While Macbeth himself, in the midst of the horrors of his guilt, still retains a character less fiend-like than that of his queen, talks to her with a degree of tenderness, and pours his complaints and fears into her bosom, accompanied with terms of endearment. Steevens.

Note return to page 805 3This ignorant present time, &lblank;] Ignorant, for base, poor, ignoble. Warburton. Ignorant has here the signification of unknowing; that is, I feel by anticipation those future hours, of which, according to the process of nature, the present time would be ignorant. Johnson. So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; his shipping, “Poor ignorant baubles, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 806 4&lblank; present time, &lblank;] The word time is wanting in the old copy. It was supply'd by Mr. Pope, and perhaps without necessity, as our author omits it in the first scene of the Tempest: “If you can command these elements to silence and work the peace of the present, we will not handle a rope more.” The sense does not require the word time, and it is too much for the measure. Again, in Coriolanus: “And that you not delay the present; but &c.” &lblank; Again, in Corinthians I. ch. xv. v. 6: “&lblank; of whom the greater part remain unto this present.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0513

Note return to page 807 5Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read, &c.] So, in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “Her face the book of praises, where is read “Nothing but curious pleasures.” Steevens.

Note return to page 808 6&lblank; to beguile the time, Look like the time; &lblank;] The same expression occurs in the 8th book of Daniel's Civil Wars: “He draws a traverse 'twixt his grievances; “Looks like the time: his eye made not report “Of what he felt within; nor was he less “Than usually he was in every part; “Wore a clear face upon a cloudy heart.” It is almost needless to observe that the Poem of Daniel was published many years before Macbeth could have been written. Steevens.9Q0514

Note return to page 809 7Unto our gentle senses.] How odd a character is this of the air that it could recommend itself to all the senses, not excepting the sight and hearing? Without doubt, we should read: Unto our general sense, meaning the touch or feeling; which not being confined to one part, like the rest of the senses, but extended over the whole body, the poet, by a fine periphrasis, calls the general sense. Therefore by the air's recommending itself nimbly and sweetly must be understood that it was clear and soft, which properties recreated the fibres, and assisted their vibration. And surely it was a good circumstance in the air of Scotland that it was soft and warm: and this circumstance he would recommend, as appears from the following words: This guest of summer, The temple-baunting martlet, &lblank; General has been corrupted to gentle once again in this very play. See note, act III. scene v. Warburton. Senses are nothing more than each man's sense. Gentle senses is very elegant, as it means placid, calm, composed, and intimates the peaceable delight of a fine day. Johnson.

Note return to page 810 8&lblank; martlet, &lblank;] This bird is in the old edition called barlet. Johnson. The correction is supported by the following passage in the Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; like the martlet “Builds in the weather on the outward wall.” Steevens.

Note return to page 811 9&lblank; coigne of vantage, &lblank;] Convenient corner. Johnson.

Note return to page 812 1&lblank; most breed, &lblank;] The folio, &lblank; must breed. Steevens.

Note return to page 813 2How you should bid God-yeld us &lblank;] To bid any one God-yeld him, i. e. God-yield him, was the same as God reward him. Warburton. I believe yield, or, as it is in the folio of 1623, eyld, is a corrupted contraction of shield. The wish implores not reward, but protection. Johnson. I rather believe it to be a corruption of God-yield, i. e. reward. In Anthony and Cleopatra, we meet with it at length: “And the gods yield you for't.” Again, in the interlude of Jacob and Esau, 1568: “God yelde you Esau, with all my stomach &lblank;” Again, in the old metrical romance of Syr Guy of Warwick, bl. l. no date: “Syr, quoth Guy, God yield it you, “Of this great gift you give me now.” Again, in Chaucer's Sompnoure's Tale, v. 7759; late edit. “God yelde you adoun in your village.” God shield means God forbid, and could never be used as a form of returning thanks. So, in Chaucer's Milleres Tale: “God shilde that he died sodenly.” v. 3427; late edit. Steevens.

Note return to page 814 3We rest your hermits.] Hermits, for beadsmen. Warburton. That is, we as hermits shall always pray for you. So, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “I am your beadsman bound to pray for you.” Again, in Heywood's English Traveller, 1633: “&lblank; worshipful sir, “I shall be still your beadsman.” Steevens.

Note return to page 815 4&lblank; his great love, sharp as his spur, &lblank;] So, in Twelfth Night, act III. sc. iii: “&lblank; my desire, “More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 816 5Your servants ever, &c.] The metaphor in this speech is taken from the Steward's compting-house or audit room. In compt means, subject to account. The sense of the whole is:—We, and all who belong to us, look upon our lives and fortunes not as our own properties, but as things we have received merely for your use, and for which we must be accountable whenever you please to call us to our audit; when, like faithful stewards, we shall be ready to answer your summons, by returning you what is your own. Steevens.

Note return to page 817 6Enter a sewer, &lblank;] I have restored this stage direction from the old copy. The office of a sewer was to place the dishes in order at a feast. His chief mark of distinction was a towel round his arm. So, in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman; “&lblank; clap me a clean towel about you, like a sewer.” Again: “See, sir Amorous has his towel on already. [He enters like a sewer.”] Steevens.

Note return to page 818 7If it were done, &c.] A man of learning recommends another punctuation: If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well. It were done quickly, if, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 819 8&lblank; If the assassination] Of this soliloquy the meaning is not very clear; I have never found the readers of Shakespeare agreeing about it. I understand it thus: “If that which I am about to do, when it is once done and executed, were done and ended without any following effects, it would then be best to do it quickly; if the murder could terminate in itself, and restrain the regular course of consequences, if its success could secure its surcease, if being once done successfully, without detection, it could fix a period to all vengeance and enquiry, so that this blow might be all that I have to do, and this anxiety all that I have to suffer; if this could be my condition, even here in this world, in this contracted period of temporal existence, on this narrow bank in the ocean of eternity, I would jump the life to come, I would venture upon the deed without care of any future state. But this is one of these cases in which judgment is pronounced and vengeance inflicted upon us here in our present life. We teach others to do as we have done, and are punished by our own example.” Johnson.

Note return to page 820 9With his surcease, success; &lblank;] I think the reasoning requires that we should read: With its success surcease. &lblank; Johnson. A trammel is a net in which either birds or fishes are caught. So, in the Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Each tree and shrub wears trammels of thy hair.” Surcease is cessation, stop. So, in the Valiant Welchman, 1615: “Surcease brave brother: Fortune hath crown'd our brows.” His is used instead of its, in many places. Steevens.

Note return to page 821 1&lblank; shoal of time,] This is Theobald's emendation, undoubtedly right. The old edition has school, and Dr. Warburton shelve. Johnson.

Note return to page 822 2We'd jump the life to come. &lblank;] So, in Cymbeline, act V. sc. iv: “&lblank; or jump the after-enquiry on your own peril.” Steevens.

Note return to page 823 3&lblank; This even-handed justice] Our poet, apis Matinæ more modoque, would stoop to borrow a sweet from any flower, however humble in its situation. “The pricke of conscience (says Holinshed) caused him ever to feare, lest he should be served of the same cup as he had minister'd to his predecessor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 824 4Hath borne his faculties so meek, &lblank;] Faculties, for office, exercise of power, &c. Warburton. Hath borne his faculties so meek, &lblank;] “Duncan (says Holinshed) was soft and gentle of nature.”— And again: “Macbeth spoke much against the king's softness, and overmuch slackness in punishing offendors.” Steevens.

Note return to page 825 5&lblank; or heaven's cherubin, hors'd Upon the sightless couriers of the air,] But the cherubin is the courier; so that he can't be said to be hors'd upon another courier. We must read, therefore, coursers. Warburton. Courier is only runner. Couriers of air are winds, air in motion. Sightless is invisible. Johnson. Again, in this play: “Wherever in your sightless substances, &c.” Again, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “The flames of hell and Pluto's sightless fires.” Again: “Hath any sightless and infernal fire “Laid hold upon my flesh?” Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602, b. ii. c. 11: “The scouring winds that sightless in the sounding air do fly.” Steevens.

Note return to page 826 6That tears shall drown the wind, &lblank;] Alluding to the remission of the wind in a shower. Johnson.

Note return to page 827 7&lblank; no spur &c.] The spur of the occasion is a phrase used by lord Bacon. Steevens.

Note return to page 828 8And falls on the other &lblank;] Hanmer has on this occasion added a word which every reader cannot fail to add for himself. He would give: And falls on the other side. But the state of Macbeth's mind is more strongly marked by this break in the speech, than by any continuation of it which the most successful critic can supply. Steevens.

Note return to page 829 9Enter Lady.] The arguments by which lady Macbeth persuades her husband to commit the murder, afford a proof of Shakespeare's knowledge of human nature. She urges the excellence and dignity of courage, a glittering idea which has dazzled mankind from age to age, and animated sometimes the house-breaker, and sometimes the conqueror; but this sophism Macbeth has for ever destroyed, by distinguishing true from false fortitude, in a line and a half; of which it may almost be said, that they ought to bestow immortality on the author, though all his other productions had been lost: I dare do all that may become a man, Who dares do more, is none. This topic, which has been always employed with too much success, is used in this scene with peculiar propriety, to a soldier by a woman. Courage is the distinguishing virtue of a soldier, and the reproach of cowardice cannot be borne by any man from a woman, without great impatience. She then urges the oaths by which he had bound himself to murder Duncan, another art of sophistry by which men have sometimes deluded their consciences, and persuaded themselves that what would be criminal in others is virtuous in them; this argument Shakespeare, whose plan obliged him to make Macbeth yield, has not confuted, though he might easily have shewn that a former obligation could not be vacated by a latter: that obligations laid on us by a higher power, could not be over-ruled by obligations which we lay upon ourselves. Johnson.

Note return to page 830 1&lblank; Wouldst thou have that, Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem;] In this there seems to be no reasoning. I should read: Or live a coward in thine own esteem? Unless we choose rather: &lblank; Wouldst thou leave that. Johnson. The reasoning is rendered imperfect by inserting the note of interrogation after the word esteem; the two ensuing lines belonging as necessarily to the sentence as any line that went before, and making an essential part of the Lady's argument. Put the note of interrogation where it ought to be, at the end of the speech, and then the argument becomes entire, and the reasoning conclusive. —Do you wish to obtain the crown, and yet would you remain such a coward in your own eyes all your life, as to suffer your paltry fears, which whisper, “I dare not,” to controul your noble ambition, which cries out, “I would?” Steevens.

Note return to page 831 2Like the poor cat i' the adage?] The adage alluded to is, The cat loves fish, but dares not wet her feet: “Catus amat pisces, sed non vult tingere plantas.” Johnson.

Note return to page 832 3Pr'ythee, peace, &c.] A passage similar to this, occurs in Measure for Measure, act II. scene ii: “&lblank; be that you are, “That is a woman: if you're more, you're none.” The folio, instead of do more, reads no more, but the present reading is undoubtedly right. Steevens.

Note return to page 833 4Did then adhere, &lblank;] The old copy reads adhere. Dr. Warburton would read cohere, not improperly, but without necessity. In the Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Ford says of Falstaff, that his words and actions “no more adhere and keep pace together than, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 834 5But screw your courage to the sticking place,] This is a metaphor from an engine formed by mechanical complication. The sticking place is the stop which suspends its powers, till they are discharged on their proper object; as in driving piles, &c. So, in sir W. Davenant's Cruel Brother, 1630: “&lblank; There is an engine made, “Which spends its strength by force of nimble wheels; “For they, once screwed up, in their return “Will rive an oak.” Again, in Coriolanus, act I. sc. viii: “Wrench up thy power to the highest.” Perhaps indeed Shakespeare had a more familiar image in view, and took his metaphor from the screwing up the chords of string-instruments to their proper degree of tension, when the peg remains fast in its sticking place, i. e. in the place from which it is not to move. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0520

Note return to page 835 6Will I with wine and wassel so convince,] To convince, is in Shakespeare, to overpower or subdue, as in this play: “&lblank; Their malady convinces “The great assay of art.” Johnson. So, in the old comedy of Cambyses: “If that your heart addicted be the Egyptians to convince.” Again: “By this his grace, by conquest great the Egyptians did convince.” Again, in Holinshed: “&lblank; thus mortally fought, intending to vanquish and convince the other.” &lblank; and wassel &lblank;] What was anciently called was-haile (as appears from Selden's notes on the ninth song of Drayton's Polyolbion) was an annual custom observed in the country on the vigil of the new year; and had its beginning, as some say, from the words which Ronix daughter of Hengist used, when she drank to Vortigern, loverd king was-heil; he answering her, by direction of an interpreter, drinc-heile; and then as Geoffery of Monmouth says: “Kuste hire and sitte hire adoune and glad dronke hire heil, “And that was tho in this land the verst was-hail, “As in langage of Saxoyne that me might evere iwite, “And so wel he paith the folc about, that he is not yut voryute.” Afterwards it appears that was-haile, and drinc-heil, were the usual phrases of quaffing among the English, as we may see from Thomas de la Moore in the Life of Edward II. and in the lines of Hanvil the monk, who preceded him: “Ecce vagante cifo distento gutture wass-heil, “Ingeminant wass-heil &lblank; But Selden rather conjectures it to have been a usual ceremony among the Saxons before Hengist, as a note of health-wishing, supposing the expression to be corrupted from wish-heil. Wassel or Wassail is a word still in use in the midland counties, and signifies at present what is called Lambs Wool, i. e. roasted apples in strong beer, with sugar and spice. See Beggar's Bush, act IV. sc. 4: “What think you of a wassel? “&lblank; thou and Ferret “And Ginks to sing the song: I for the structure, “Which is the bowl, &c.” Again, in a song introduced in Laneham's Narrative of Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment at Kenelworth Castle, 1575: “For wine and wastell he had at will.” Wassel is, however, sometimes used for general riot, intemperance, or festivity. On this occasion I believe it means intemperance. Ben Jonson personifies wassel thus:—Enter Wassel like a neat sempster and songster; her page bearing a brown bowl drest with ribbands and rosemary, before her. Steevens.

Note return to page 836 7&lblank; the warder of the brain,] A warder is a guard, a centinel. So, in another play of Shakespeare: “Where be these warders, that they wait not here?” Steevens.

Note return to page 837 8&lblank; the receipt of reason] i. e. the receptacle. Malone.

Note return to page 838 9A limbeck only: &lblank;] That is, shall be only a vessel to emit fumes or vapours. Johnson.

Note return to page 839 1&lblank; who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell.] Quell is murder, manquellers being in the old language the term for which murderers is now used. Johnson. So, in Chaucer's Tale of the Nonnes Priest, v. 15396, late edit. “The dokes cryeden as men wold hem quelle.” The word is used in this sense by Holinshed, p. 567: “&lblank; the poor people ran about the streets, calling the capteins and governors murtherers and manquellers.” Again, in The Cobler's Prophecy, 1594: “Press'd through despair myself to quell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 840 2&lblank; and bend up] A metaphor from the bow. So, in K. Henry V. act III. sc. i: “&lblank; bend up every spirit “To his full height.” Steevens.

Note return to page 841 3Banquo.] The place is not mark'd in the old edition, nor is it easy to say where this encounter can be. It is not in the hall, as the editors have all supposed it, for Banquo sees the sky; it is not far from the bedchamber, as the conversation shews: it must be in the inner court of the castle, which Banquo might properly cross in his way to bed. Johnson.

Note return to page 842 4&lblank; Merciful powers! Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature Gives way to in repose! &lblank;] It is apparent from what Banquo says afterwards, that he had been solicited in a dream to attempt something in consequence of the prophecy of the witches, that his waking senses were shock'd at; and Shakespeare has here finely contrasted his character with that of Macbeth. Banquo is praying against being tempted to encourage thoughts of guilt even in his sleep; while Macbeth is hurrying into temptation, and revolving in his mind every scheme, however flagitious, that may assist him to complete his purpose. The one is unwilling to sleep, lest the same phantoms should assail his resolution again, while the other is depriving himself of rest through impatience to commit the murder. The same kind of invocation occurs in Cymbeline: “From fairies, and the tempters of the night, “Guard me!” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0522

Note return to page 843 5He hath to-night, &c.] To-night was unnecessarily inserted by Mr. Pope. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0523

Note return to page 844 6&lblank; shut up] To shut up, is to conclude. So, in the Spanish Tragedy: “And heavens have shut up day to pleasure us.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iv. c. 9: “And for to shut up all in friendly love.” Again, in Reynold's God's Revenge against Murder, 1621, fourth edit. p. 137: “&lblank; though the parents have already shut up the contract.” Again, in Stowe's account of the earl of Essex's speech on the scaffold: “he shut up all with the Lord's prayer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 845 7Being unprepar'd, Our will became the servant to defect; Which else should free have wrought.] This is obscurely expressed. The meaning seems to be:—Being unprepared, our entertainment was necessarily defective, and we only had it in our power to shew the king our willingness to serve him. Had we received sufficient notice of his coming, our zea should have been more clearly manifested by our acts. Malone.

Note return to page 846 8If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,] Consent for will. So that the sense of the line is, If you shall go into my measures when I have determined of them, or when the time comes that I want your assistance. Warburton. If you shall cleave, &c.] Macbeth expresses his thought with affected obscurity; he does not mention the royalty, though he apparently had it in his mind. If you shall cleave to my consent, if you shall conour with me when I determine to accept the crown, when 'tis, when that happens which the prediction promises, it shall make honour for you. Johnson. Such another expression occurs in lord Surrey's translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “And if thy will stick unto mine, I shall “In wedlocke sure knit, and make her his own.” When 'tis, means, when 'tis my leisure to talk with you on this business; referring to what Banquo had just said, at your kindest leisure. Macbeth could never mean to give Banquo at this time the most distant or obscure hint of his design upon the crown. Steevens.

Note return to page 847 9&lblank; clutch &lblank;] The meaning of this word is well known, nor is the note introduced for any other reason than just to mention, that our author's use of it seems to be sneered at by Ben Jonson in his Poetaster, act V. sc. ii. where Crispinus, after having taken some pills from Horace, by way of a light vomit, to purge his brain and stomach, among many other uncouth words and phrases he brings up, this is one. Shakespeare uses it in Measure for Measure, act III. sc. v. and K. John, act II. sc. 6. always in the same signification. Warner. This word, though reprobated by Ben Jonson, was not peculiar to Shakespeare. It is also used by Marston, in the second part of Antonio and Mellida, 1602: “&lblank; all the earth is clutch'd “In the dull leaden hand of snoring sleep.” Malone. It appears from the following passage in an old comedy, called The Return from Parnassus, 1606, that Shakespeare and Ben Jonson had been at variance: “O that Ben Jonson's a pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving the poets a pill; but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him a purge that made him bewray his credit.” Burbage and Kemp are the speakers in this scene. Steevens.

Note return to page 848 1And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood,] Certainly, if on the blade, then on the dudgeon; for dudgeon signifies a small dagger. We should read therefore: And on the blade of th' dudgeon, &lblank; Warburton. Though dudgeon does sometimes signify a dagger, it more properly means the hast or handle of a dagger, and is used for that particular sort of handle which has some ornament carved on the top of it. Junius explains the dudgeon, i. e. hast, by the Latin expression, manubrium apiatum, which means a handle of wood, with a grain rough as if the seeds of parsly were strown over it. So, in Lyllie's comedy of Mother Bombie, 1594: “&lblank; then have at the bag with the dudgeon haste, that is, at the dudgeon dagger that hangs by his tantony pouch.” In Soliman and Perseda is the following passage: “&lblank; Typhon me no Typhons, “But swear upon my dudgeon dagger.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “I am too well rank'd, Asinius, to be stabb'd with his dudgeon wit.” Steevens. Gascoigne confirms this: “The most knottie piece of box may be wrought to a fayre doogen haste.” Gouts for drops is frequent in old English. Farmer.

Note return to page 849 2gouts of blood,] Or drops, French. Pope. Gouts is the technical term for the spots on some part of the plumage of a hawk: or perhaps Shakespeare used the word in allusion to a phrase in heraldry. When a field is charg'd or sprinkled with red drops, it is said to be gutty of gules, or gutty de sang. Steevens.

Note return to page 850 3&lblank; Now o'er the one half world Nature seems dead, &lblank;] That is, over our hemisphere all action and motion seem to have ceased. This image, which is perhaps the most striking that poetry can produce, has been adopted by Dryden in his Conquest of Mexico: “All things are hush'd as Nature's self lay dead, “The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head; “The little birds in dreams their songs repeat, “And sleeping flow'rs beneath the night dews sweat. “Even lust and envy sleep!” These lines, though so well known, I have transcribed, that the contrast between them and this passage of Shakespeare may be more accurately observed. Night is described by two great poets, but one describes a night of quiet, the other of perturbation. In the night of Dryden, all the disturbers of the world are laid asleep; in that of Shakespeare, nothing but sorcery, lust, and murder, is awake. He that reads Dryden, finds himself lull'd with serenity, and disposed to solitude and contemplation. He that peruses Shakespeare, looks round alarmed, and starts to find himself alone. One is the night of a lover, the other, of a murderer. Johnson. Now o'er one half the world, &c.] So, in Marston's second part of Antonio and Mellida, 1602, which probably preceded Macbeth: “'Tis yet dead night; yet all the earth is clutcht “In the dull leaden hand of snoring sleep: “No breath disturbs the quiet of the air, “No spirit moves upon the breast of earth, “Save howling dogs, night-crows, and screeching owls, “Save meagre ghosts, Piero, and black thoughts.   “&lblank; I am great in blood, “Unequal'd in revenge:—you horrid scouts “That sentinel swart night, give loud applause “From your large palms.” Malone.

Note return to page 851 4The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates] The word now has been added by the editors for the sake of metre. Probably Shakespeare wrote: The curtain'd sleeper. The folio spells the word sleepe, and an addition of the letter r only, affords the proposed emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 852 5&lblank; wither'd murder, &lblank; thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing sides tow'rd his design Moves like a ghost. &lblank;] This was the reading of this passage in all the editions before that of Mr. Pope, who for sides, inserted in the text strides, which Mr. Theobald has tacitly copied from him, though a more proper alteration might perhaps have been made. A ravishing stride is an action of violence, impetuosity, and tumult, like that of a savage rushing on his prey; whereas the poet is here attempting to exhibit an image of secrecy and caution, of anxious circumspection and guilty timidity, the stealthy pace of a ravisher creeping into the chamber of a virgin, and of an assassin approaching the bed of him whom he proposes to murder, without awaking him; these he describes as moving like ghosts, whose progression is so different from strides, that it has been in all ages represented to be, as Milton expresses it: “Smooth sliding without step.” This hemistic will afford the true reading of this place, which is, I think, to be corrected thus: &lblank; and wither'd murder, “&lblank; thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin ravishing, slides tow'rds his design, Moves like a ghost. &lblank; Tarquin is in this place the general name of a ravisher, and the sense is: Now is the time in which every one is a-sleep, but those who are employed in wickedness; the witch who is sacrificing to Hecate, and the ravisher, and the murderer, who, like me, are stealing upon their prey. When the reading is thus adjusted, he wishes with great propriety, in the following lines, that the earth may not hear his steps. Johnson.

Note return to page 853 6With Tarquin's ravishing strides, &lblank;] The justness of this similitude is not very obvious. But a stanza, in his poem of Tarquin and Lucrece, will explain it: “Now stole upon the time, the dead of night, “When heavy sleep had clos'd up mortal eyes; “No comfortable star did lend his light, “No noise but owls and wolves dead-boding cries; “Now serves the season that they may surprise “The silly lambs. Pure thoughts are dead and still, “While lust and murder wake to stain and kill.” Warburton. I cannot agree with Dr. Johnson that a stride is always an action of violence, impetuosity, or tumult. Spenser uses the word in his Faery Queen, b. iv. c. 8. and with no idea of violence annexed to it: “With easy steps so soft as foot could stride.” And as an additional proof that a stride is not always a tumultuous effort, the following instance from Harrington's Translation of Ariosto, may be brought: “He takes a long and leisurable stride, “And longest on the hinder foot he staid; “So soft he treads, altho' his steps were wide, “As though to tread on eggs he was afraid. “And as he goes, he gropes on either side “To find the bed, &c.” Orlando Furioso, 28th book, stanza 63. This translation was entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, Dec. 7. 1593. Whoever has been reduced to the necessity of finding his way about a house in the dark, must know that it is natural to take large strides, in order to feel before us whether we have a safe footing or not. The ravisher and murderer would naturally take such strides, not only on the same account, but that their steps might be fewer in number, and the sound of their feet be repeated as seldom as possible. Steevens.

Note return to page 854 7&lblank; Thou sound and firm-set earth,] is the reading of the modern editors: but though that of the folio is corrupt, it will direct us to the true one. &lblank; Thou sowre and firm-set earth, is evidently wrong, but brings us very near the right word, which was evidently meant to be: &lblank; Thou sure and firm-set earth, as I have inserted it in the text. So, in act IV. sc: iii: “Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure.” Steevens.

Note return to page 855 8&lblank; which way they walk, &lblank;] The folio reads: &lblank; which they may walk, &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 856 9Thy very stones prate of my where-about,] The following beautiful passage in a play which has been frequently mentioned, and which Langbaine says was very popular in the time of queen Elizabeth, A Warning for faire Women, 1599, perhaps suggested this thought: “Mountains will not suffice to cover it, “Cimmerian darknesse cannot shadow it, “Nor any policy wit hath in store, “Cloake it so cunningly, but at the last, “If nothing else, yet will the very stones “That lie within the streets, cry out for vengeance, “And point at us to be the murderers.” Malone.

Note return to page 857 1And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with in &lblank;] i. e. lest the noise from the stones take away from this midnight season that present horror which suits so well with what is going to be acted in it. What was the horror he means? Silence, than which nothing can be more horrid to the perpetrator of an atrocious design. This shews a great knowledge of human nature. Warburton. Of this passage an alteration was once proposed by me, of which I have now a less favourable opinion, yet will insert it, as it may perhaps give some hint to other critics: And take the present horrour from the time, Which now suits with it. &lblank; I believe every one that has attentively read this dreadful soliloquy is disappointed at the conclusion, which, if not wholly unintelligible, is, at least, obscure, nor can be explained into any sense worthy of the authour. I shall therefore propose a slight alteration: &lblank; Thou sound and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my where-about, And talk—the present horrour of the time! That now suits with it. &lblank; Macbeth has, in the foregoing lines, disturbed his imagination by enumerating all the terrors of the night; at length he is wrought up to a degree of frenzy, that makes him afraid of some supernatural discovery of his design, and calls out to the stones not to betray him, not to declare where he walks, nor to talk.— As he is going to say of what, he discovers the absurdity of his suspicion, and pauses; but is again overwhelmed by his guilt, and concludes, that such are the horrors of the present night, that the stones may be expected to cry out against him: That now suits with it. &lblank; He observes in a subsequent passage, that on such occasions stones have been known to move. It is now a very just and strong picture of a man about to commit a deliberate murder under the strongest conviction of the wickedness of his design. Of this alteration, however, I do not now see much use, and certainly see no necessity. Whether to take horrour from the time means not rather to catch it as communicated, than to deprive the time of horrour, deserves to be considered. Johnson. The latter is surely the true meaning. Macbeth would have nothing break through the universal silence that added such a horror to the night, as suited well with the bloody deed he was about to perform. Mr. Burke, in his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, observes, that “all general privations are great, because they are all terrible;” and, with other things, he gives silence as an instance, illustrating the whole by that remarkable passage in Virgil, where amidst all the images of terror that could be united, the circumstance of silence is particularly dwelt upon: “Dii quibus imperium est animarum, umbræque silentes, “Et Chaos et Phlegethon, loca nocte silentia late.” Steevens.

Note return to page 858 2&lblank; their possets,] It appears from this passage, as well as from many others in our old dramatic performances, that it was the general custom to eat possets just before bed-time. So, in the first part of K. Edward IV. by Heywood: “&lblank; thou shalt be welcome to beef and bacon, and perhaps a bag-pudding; and my daughter Nell shall pop a posset upon thee when thou goest to bed.” Macbeth himself has already said: “Go bid thy mistress when my drink is ready, “She strike upon the bell.” And in the Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Quickly promises Jack Rugby a posset at night.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0525

Note return to page 859 3&lblank; Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had don't &lblank;] This is very artful. For, as the poet has drawn the lady and her husband, it would be thought the act should have been done by her. It is likewise highly just; for though ambition had subdued in her all the sentiments of nature towards present objects, yet the likeness of one past, which she had been accustomed to regard with reverence, made her unnatural passions, for a moment, give way to the sentiments of instinct and humanity. Warburton.

Note return to page 860 4Listening their fear. I could not say, amen, When they did say, God bless us.] i. e. Listening to their fear, the particle omitted. This is common in our author. Jul. Cæs. act IV. sc. i: “&lblank; and now Octavius, “Listen great things.” Contemporary writers took the same liberty. So, in the World toss'd at Tennis, by Middleton and Rowley, 1620: “Listen the plaints of thy poor votaries.” Again, in Lylly's Maid's Metamorphosis, 1600: “There, in rich seats, all wrought of ivory, “The Graces sit, listening the melody “Of warbling birds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 861 5&lblank; sleave of care,] A skein of silk is called a sleave of silk, as I learned from Mr. Seward, the ingenious editor of Beaumont and Fletcher. Johnson. Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,] To confirm the ingenious conjecture that sleave means sleaved, silk ravell'd, it is observable, that a poet of Shakespeare's age, Drayton, has alluded to it likewise in his Quest of Cynthia: “At length I on a fountain light, “Whose brim with pinks was platted, “The banks with daffadillies dight, “With grass, like sleave, was matted.” Langton. Sleave is mentioned in Holinshed's Hist. of England, p. 835: “Eight wild men all apparelled in green moss made with sleved silk.” Perhaps the same word, though differently spelt, occurs in the Lover's Complaint, by Shakespeare, p. 87, and 88, Lintot's edition: “Found yet mo letters sadly penn'd in blood, “With sleided silke, feate and affectedly “Enswath'd and seal'd to curious secrecy.” Again, in the Muses Elizium, by Drayton: “&lblank; thrumb'd with grass “As soft as sleave or sarcenet ever was.” Again: “That in the handling feels as soft as any sleave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 862 6The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, &c.] In this encomium upon sleep, amongst the many appellations which are given it, significant of its beneficence and friendliness to life, we find one which conveys a different idea, and by no means agrees with the rest, which is: The death of each day's life, &lblank;] I make no question but Shakespeare wrote: The birth of each day's life, &lblank; The true characteristick of sleep, which repairs the decays of labour, and assists that returning vigour which supplies the next day's activity. The player-editors seem to have corrupted it for the sake of a silly gingle between life and death. Warburton. I neither perceive the corruption, nor any necessity for alteration. The death of each day's life, means the end of each day's labour, the conclusion of all that bustle and fatigue that each day's life brings with it. Steevens.

Note return to page 863 7Chief nourisher in life's feast;] So, in Chaucer's Squiere's Tale, v. 10661; late edit. “The norice of digestion, the slepe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 864 8&lblank; 'tis the eye of childhood, That fears a painted devil. &lblank;] So, in Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “Terrify babes, my lord, with painted devils.” Steevens.

Note return to page 865 9&lblank; gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.] Could Shakespeare possibly mean to play upon the similitude of gild and guilt? Johnson. This quibble very frequently occurs in the old plays. A few instances (for I could produce a dozen at least) may suffice: “Cand. You have a silver beaker of my wife's? “Flu. You say not true, 'tis gilt. “Cand. Then you say true: &lblank; “And being gilt, the guilt lies more on you.” Again in Middleton's comedy of A mad World my Masters, 1608: “Though guilt condemns, 'tis gilt must make us glad.” And, lastly, from Shakespeare himself: “England shall double gild his treble guilt.” Hen. IV. p. 2. Again, in Hen. V: “Have for the gilt of France, O guilt indeed!” Steevens.

Note return to page 866 1Will all great Neptune's ocean &c.] “Suscipit, ô Golli, quantum non ultima Tethys,   “Non genitor nympharum abluit oceanus.” Catullus in Gellium, 83. &grO;&grisc;&grm;&gra;&gri; &grg;&grag;&grr; &gro;&grusa;&grt; &gras;&grn; &GRIra;&grs;&grt;&grr;&gro;&grn; &gro;&grusa;&grt;&gre; &grf;&grac;&grs;&gri;&grn; &grarg;&grn; &grN;&gria;&gry;&gra;&gri; &grk;&gra;&grq;&gra;&grr;&grm;&grwci; &grt;&grh;&grn;&grd;&gre; &grt;&grhg;&grn; &grs;&grt;&grea;&grg;&grh;&grn;. Sophoc. Oedip. “Quis eluet me Tanais? aut quæ barbaris “Mæotis undis Pontico incumbens mari? “Non ipse toto magnus Oceanus pater “Tantum expiarit sceleris!” Senec. Hippol. Steevens. So, in the Insatiate Countess, by Marston, 1603: “Although the waves of all the northern sea “Should flow for ever through these guilty hands, “Yet the sanguinolent stain would exstant be.” Malone.

Note return to page 867 2&lblank; incarnardine,] To incarnardine, is to stain any thing of a flesh colour, or red. Carnardine is the old term for carnation. So, in a comedy called Any Thing for a quiet Life: “Grograms, sattins, velvet fine, “The rosy-colour'd carnardine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 868 3Making the green—one red.] The same thought occurs in The Downfal of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 1601: “He made the green sea red with Turkish blood.” Again: “The multitudes of seas died red with blood.” Another not unlike it is found in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. ii. c. 10. st. 48: “The whiles with blood they all the shore did stain, “And the grey ocean into purple dye.” Again, in the 19th song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “And the vast greenish sea discolour'd like to blood.” It had been common to read: Making the green one, red. The author of the Gray's Inn Journal, No. 17 [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 869 For, Gray's Inn Journal No. 17. read, Gray's Inn Journal No. 15.

Note return to page 870 4To know my deed,—'Twere best not know myself.] i. e. While I have the thoughts of this deed, it were best not know, or be lost to, myself. This is an answer to the lady's reproof: &lblank; be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. But the Oxford editor, perceiving neither the sense, nor the pertinency of the answer, alters it to: To unknow my deed.—'Twere best not know myself. Warburton.

Note return to page 871 5&lblank; napkins enough &lblank;] i. e. handkerchiefs. So, in Othello: “Your napkin is too little.” Steevens.

Note return to page 872 6&lblank; here's an equivocator,—who committed treason enough for God's sake, &lblank;] Meaning a jesuit: an order so troublesome to the state in queen Elizabeth and king James the first's time. The inventors of the execrable doctrine of equivocation. Warburton.

Note return to page 873 7&lblank; here's an English taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: &lblank;] The archness of the joke consists in this, that a French hose being very short and strait, a taylor must be master of his trade who could steal any thing from thence. Warburton. Dr. Warburton has said this at random. The French hose (according to Stubbs in his Anatomie of Abuses) were in the year 1595 much in fashion.—“The Gallic hosen are made very large and wide, reaching down to their knees only, with three or foure gardes apeece laid down along either hose.” Again, in the Ladies Privilege, 1640: “&lblank; wear their long “Parisian breeches, with five points at knees, “Whose tags concurring with their harmonious spurs, “Afford rare music; then have they doublets “So short i'th' waist, they seem as 'twere begot “Upon their doublets by their cloaks, which to save stuff, “Are but a year's growth longer than their skirts; “And all this magazine of device is furnish'd “By your French taylor.” Again, in the Defence of Coneycatching, 1592: “Blest be the French sleeves and breech verdingales that grants them (the taylors) leave to coney-catch so mightily.” Steevens. When Mr. Steevens censured Dr. Warburton in this place, he forgot the uncertainty of French fashions. In the Treasury of ancient and modern Times, 1613, we have an account (from Guyon, I suppose) of the old French dresses: “Mens hose answered in length to their short-skirted doublets; being made close to their limbes, wherein they had no meanes for pockets.” And Withers, in his satyr against vanity, ridicules “the spruze, diminitive, neat, Frenchman's hose.” Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0529

Note return to page 874 8&lblank; I made a shift to cast him.] To cast him up, to ease my stomach of him. The equivocation is between cast or throw, as a term of wrestling, and cast or cast up. Johnson. I find the same play upon words, in an old comedy, entitled The Two angry Women of Abington, printed 1599: &lblank; “to-night he's a good huswife, he reels all that he wrought to-day, and he were good now to play at dice, for he casts excellent well. Steevens.

Note return to page 875 9For 'tis my limited service.] Limited, for appointed. Warburton.

Note return to page 876 1&lblank; strange screams of death; And prophecying, with accents terrible Of dire combustion, and confus'd events, New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird clamour'd the live-long night. Some say, the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.] These lines I think should be rather regulated thus: &lblank; prophecying with accents terrible, Of dire combustion and confus'd events. New-hatch'd to th' woful time, the obscure bird Clamour'd the live-long night. Some say the earth Was fev'rous and did shake. A prophecy of an event new hatch'd, seems to be a prophecy of an event past. And a prophecy new hatch'd is a wry expression. The term new hatch'd is properly applicable to a bird, and that birds of ill omen should be new-hatch'd to the woful time, that is, should appear in uncommon numbers, is very consistent with the rest of the prodigies here mentioned, and with the universal disorder into which nature is described as thrown, by the perpetration of this horrid murder. Johnson. I think Dr. Johnson's regulation of these lines is improper. Prophecying is what is new-hatch'd, and in the metaphor holds the place of the egg. The events are the fruit of such hatching. Steevens.

Note return to page 877 2&lblank; Tongue, nor heart,] The use of two negatives, not to make an affirmative, but to deny more strongly, is very common in our author. So, Jul. Cæs. act III. sc. i: “&lblank; there is no harm “Intended to your person, nor to no Roman else.” Steevens.

Note return to page 878 3&lblank; this horror!] Here the old edition adds, ring the bell, which Theobald rejected, as a direction to the players. He has been followed by Dr. Warburton and Dr. Johnson. Shakespeare might think a repetition of the command to ring the bell necessary, and I know not how an editor is authorized to reject that which apparently makes a part of his author's text. Steevens.

Note return to page 879 4What, in our house?] This is very fine. Had she been innocent, nothing but the murder itself, and not any of its aggravating circumstances, would naturally have affected her. As it was, her business was to appear highly disordered at the news. Therefore, like one who has her thoughts about her, she seeks for an aggravating circumstance, that might be supposed most to affect her personally; not considering, that by placing it there, she discovered rather a concern for herself than for the king. On the contrary, her husband, who had repented the act, and was now labouring under the horrors of a recent murder, in his exclamation, gives all the marks of sorrow for the fact itself. Warburton.

Note return to page 880 5Dear Duff, &lblank;] In the folio, for Macduff is read Dear Duff. Johnson. If the original copy reads Dear Duff, on what authority can it be chang'd into Macduff? We are not writing out the parts for players. Steevens.

Note return to page 881 6&lblank; badg'd with blood,] [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0532So, in the second part of K. Hen. VI: “With murder's crimson badge.” Malone.

Note return to page 882 7&lblank; Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature, For ruin's wasteful entrance: &lblank;] Mr. Pope has endeavoured to improve one of these lines by substituting goary blood for golden blood; but it may easily be admitted that he who could on such an occasion talk of lacing the silver skin, would lace it with golden blood. No amendment can be made to this line, of which every word is equally faulty, but by a general blot. It is not improbable, that Shakespeare put these forced and unnatural metaphors into the mouth of Macbeth as a mark of artifice and dissimulation, to shew the difference between the studied language of hypocrisy, and the natural outcries of sudden passion. This whole speech so considered, is a remarkable instance of judgment, as it consists entirely of antithesis and metaphor. Johnson. To gild any thing with blood is a very common phrase in the old plays. So, Heywood, in the second part of his Iron Age, 1632: “&lblank; we have gilt our Greekish arms “With blood of our own nation.” Shakespeare repeats the image in K. John: “Their armours that march'd hence so silver bright, “Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood.” Steevens.

Note return to page 883 8His silver skin laced with his golden blood;] The allusion is so ridiculous on such an occasion, that it discovers the declaimer not to be affected in the manner he would represent himself. The whole speech is an unnatural mixture of far-fetch'd and common-place thoughts, that shews him to be acting a part. Warburton.

Note return to page 884 9Unmannerly breech'd with gore: &lblank;] An unmannerly dagger, and a dagger breech'd, or as in some editions breach'd with gore, are expressions not easily to be understood. There are undoubtedly two faults in this passage, which I have endeavoured to take away by reading: &lblank; daggers Unmanly drench'd with gore: &lblank; I saw drench'd with the king's blood the fatal daggers, not only instruments of murder but evidences of cowardice. Each of these words might easily be confounded with that which I have substituted for it, by a hand not exact, a casual blot, or a negligent inspection. Johnson. Unmannerly breech'd with gore: &lblank;] This nonsensical account of the state in which the daggers were found, must surely be read thus: Unmanly breech'd with gore:] Reech'd, soiled with a dark yellow, which is the colour of any reechy substance, and must be so of steel stain'd with blood. He uses the word very often, as reechy hangings, reechy neck, &c. So, that the sense is, that they were unmanly stain'd with blood, and that circumstance added, because often such stains are most honourable. Warburton. Dr. Warburton has, perhaps, rightly put reech'd for breech'd. Johnson. I apprehend it to be the duty of an editor to represent his author such as he is, and explain the meaning of the words he finds, to the best advantage, instead of attempting to make them better by any violent alteration. The expression may mean, that the daggers were covered with blood, quite to their breeches, i. e. their hilts or handles. The lower end of a cannon is called the breech of it; and it is known that both to breech and to unbreech a gun are common terms. So, in B. and Fletcher's Custom of the Country: “The main spring's weaken'd that holds up his cock, “He lies to be new breech'd.” “Unbreech his barrel, and discharge his bullets.” A Cure for a Cuckold, by Webster and Rowley. Steevens. Whether the word which follows be reech'd, breech'd, hatch'd, or drench'd, I am at least of opinion that unmannerly is the genuine reading. Macbeth is describing a scene shocking to humanity: and, in the midst of his narrative, throws in a parenthetical reflection, consisting of one word not connected with the sentence, “(O most unseemly sight!)” For this is a meaning of the word unmannerly: and the want of considering it in this detached sense has introduced much confusion into the passage. The Latins often used nefas and infandum in this manner. Or, in the same sense, the word may be here applied adverbially. The correction of the author of the Revisal is equally frigid and unmeaning. “Their daggers in a manner lay drench'd with gore.” The manifest artifice and dissimulation of the speech seems to be heightened by the explanation which I have offered. Warton. This passage, says Mr. Heath, seems to have been the crux criticorum! —Every one has tried his skill at it, and I may venture to say, no one has succeeded. The sense is, in plain language, Daggers filthily—in a foul manner—sheath'd with blood. A scabbard is called a pilche, a leather coat, in Romeo—but you will ask, whence the allusion to breeches? Dr. Warburton and Dr. Johnson have well observed, that this speech of Macbeth is very artfully made up of unnatural thoughts and language: in 1605 (the year in which the play appears to have been written) a book was published by Peter Erondell, (with commendatory poems by Daniel, and other wits of the time) called The French Garden, or a Summer Dayes Labour, containing, among other matters, some dialogues of a dramatick cast, which, I am persuaded, our author had read in the English; and from which he took, as he supposed, for his present purpose, this quaint expression. I will quote literatim from the 6th dialogue: “Boy! you do nothing but play tricks there, go fetch your master's silver hatched daggers, you have not brushed their breeches, bring the brushes, and brush them before me.”—Shakespeare was deceived by the pointing, and evidently supposes breeches to be a new and affected term for scabbards. But had he been able to have read the French on the other page, even as a learner, he must have been set right at once. “Garçon, vous ne faites que badiner, allez querir les poignards argentez de vos maistres, vous n'avez pas espousseté leur hâut-de-chausses”—their breeches, in the common sense of the word: as in the next sentence vas-de-chausses, stockings, and so on through all the articles of dress. Farmer.

Note return to page 885 1And when we have our naked frailties hill, That suffer in exposure, &lblank;] i. e. when we have clothed our half-drest bodies, which may take cold from being exposed to the air. It is possible that in such a cloud of words, the meaning might escape the reader. Steevens.

Note return to page 886 2In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence, Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight Of treasonous malice.] Pretence, for act. The sense of the whole is, My innocence places me under the protection of God, and under that shadow, or, from thence, I declare myself an enemy to this, as yet hidden, deed of mischief. This was a very natural speech for him who must needs suspect the true author. Warburton. Pretence is not act, but simulation, a pretence of the traitor, whoever he might be, to suspect some other of the murder. I here fly to the protector of innocence from any charge which, yet undivulg'd, the traitor may pretend to fix upon me. Johnson. Pretence is intention, design, a sense in which the word is often used by Shakespeare. So, in the Winter's Tale: “&lblank; conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband, the pretence whereof being by circumstance partly laid open.” Again, in this tragedy of Macbeth: “What good could they pretend?” i. e. intend to themselves. Banquo's meaning is,—in our present state of doubt and uncertainty about this murder, I have nothing to do but to put myself under the direction of God; and relying on his support, I here declare myself an eternal enemy to this treason, and to all its further designs that have not yet come to light. Steevens.

Note return to page 887 3&lblank; the near in blood, The nearer bloody.] Meaning, that he suspected Macbeth to be the murderer; for he was the nearest in blood to the two princes, being the cousin-german of Duncan. Steevens.

Note return to page 888 4This murderous shaft that's shot, Hath not yet lighted; &lblank;] The design to fix the murder upon some innocent person, has not yet taken effect. Johnson. This murderous shaft that's shot, Hath not yet lighted; &lblank;] The shaft is not yet lighted, and though it has done mischief in its flight, we have reason to apprehend still more before it has spent its force and falls to the ground The end for which the murder was committed, is not yet attained. The death of the king only, could neither insure the crown to Macbeth, nor accomplish any other purpose, while his sons were yet living, who had therefore just reason to apprehend they should be removed by the same means. Such another thought occurs in Bussy D'Ambois, 1606: “The chain-shot of thy lust is yet aloft, “And it must murder, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 889 5&lblank; in her pride of place,] Finely expressed, for confidence in its quality. Warburton. This is found among the prodigies consequent on king Duffe's murder: “There was a sparhawk strangled by an owl.” Steevens.

Note return to page 890 6&lblank; minions of their race,] Theobald reads: &lblank; minions of the race, very probably, and very poetically. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0536 Most of the prodigies just before mentioned, are related by Holinshed, as accompanying king Duffe's death; and it is in particular asserted, that horses of singular beauty and swiftness did eat their own flesh. Macbeth's killing Duncan's chamberlains is taken from Donwald's killing those of king Duffe. Steevens.

Note return to page 891 7What good could they pretend?] To pretend is here to propose to themselves, to set before themselves as a motive of action. Johnson.

Note return to page 892 8Then 'tis most like, The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.] Macbeth by his birth stood next in the succession to the crown, immediately after the sons of Duncan. King Malcolm, Duncan's predecessor, had two daughters, the eldest of whom was the mother of Duncan, the youngest, the mother of Macbeth. Holinshed. Steevens.

Note return to page 893 9&lblank; Colmes-kill;] Colmes-hill, or Colm-kill, is the famous Iona, one of the western isles, which Dr. Johnson visited, and describes in his Tour. Holinshed scarcely mentions the death of any of the ancient kings of Scotland, without taking notice of their being buried with their predecessors in Colme-kill. Steevens.

Note return to page 894 1(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine)] Shine, for prosper. Warburton. Shine, for appear with all the lustre of conspicuous truth. Johnson. I rather incline to Dr. Warburton's interpretation. So, in K. Hen. VI. P. I. sc. ii: “Heaven, and our lady gracious, hath it pleased “To shine on my contemptible estate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 895 2Lay your &lblank;] The folio reads, Let your &lblank; Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0538

Note return to page 896 3&lblank; Go not my horse the better,] i. e. if he does not go well. Shakespeare often uses the comparative for the positive and superlative. So, in K. Lear: “&lblank; her smiles and tears “Were like a better day.” Again, in Macbeth: “&lblank; it hath cow'd my better part of man.” Again, in P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. b. ix. c. 46. “&lblank; Many are caught out of their fellowes hands, if they bestirre not themselves the better.” It may mean, If my horse does not go the better for the haste I shall be in to avoid the night. Steevens.

Note return to page 897 4&lblank; as, it is said, Mark Antony's was by Cæsar. &lblank;] Though I would not often assume the critic's privilege of being confident where certainty cannot be obtained, nor indulge myself too far in departing from the established reading; yet I cannot but propose the rejection of this passage, which I believe was an insertion of some player, that having so much learning as to discover to what Shakespeare alluded, was not willing that his audience should be less knowing than himself, and has therefore weakened the authour's sense, by the intrusion of a remote and useless image into a speech bursting from a man wholly possess'd with his own present condition, and therefore not at leisure to explain his own allusions to himself. If these words are taken away, by which not only the thought but the numbers are injured, the lines of Shakespeare close together without any traces of a breach. My genius is rebuk'd. He chid the sisters. This note was written before I was fully acquainted with Shakespeare's manner, and I do not now think it of much weight; for though the words, which I was once willing to eject, seen interpolated, I believe they may still be genuine, and added by the authour in his revision. The authour of the Revisal cannot admit the measure to be faulty. There is only one foot, he says, put for another. This is one of the effects of literature in minds not naturally perspicacious. Every boy or girl finds the metre imperfect, but the pedant comes to its defence with a tribrachys or an anapæst, and sets it right at once by applying to one language the rules of another. If we may be allowed to change feet, like the old comic writers, it will not be easy to write a line not metrical. To hint this once, is sufficient, Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0539

Note return to page 898 5For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind;] We should read: &lblank; 'filed my mind; i. e. defiled. Warburton. This mark of contraction is not necessary. To file is in the bishop's Bible. Johnson. So, in the Revenger's Tragedy, 1608: “He called his father villain, and me strumpet, “A name I do abhor to file my lips with.” Again, in the Miseries of inforc'd Marriage, 1607: “&lblank; like smoke through a chimney that files all the way it goes.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iii. c. i: “She lightly lept out of her filed bed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 899 6&lblank; the common enemy of man,] It is always an entertainment to an inquisitive reader, to trace a sentiment to its original source; and therefore, though the term enemy of man, applied to the devil, is in itself natural and obvious, yet some may be pleased with being informed, that Shakespeare probably borrowed it from the first lines of the Destruction of Troy, a book which he is known to have read. This expression, however, he might have had in many other places. The word fiend signifies enemy. Johnson.

Note return to page 900 7&lblank; come, fate, into the list, And champion me to the utterance! &lblank;] This passage will be best explained by translating it into the language from whence the only word of difficulty in it is borrowed. Que la destinée se rende en lice, et qu'elle me donne un defi a l'outrance. A challenge or a combat a l'outrance, to extremity, was a fix'd term in the law of arms, used when the combatants engaged with an odium internecinum, an intention to destroy each other, in opposition to trials of skill at festivals, or on other occasions, where the contest was only for reputation or a prize. The sense therefore is: Let fate, that has fore-doom'd the exaltation of the sons of Banquo, enter the lists against me, with the utmost animosity, in defence of its own decrees, which I will endeavour to invalidate, whatever be the danger. Johnson. Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, And champion me to the utterance! &lblank;] This is expressed with great nobleness and sublimity. The metaphor is taken from the ancient combat en champ clos: in which there was a marshal, who presided over, and directed all the punctilios of the ceremonial. Fate is called upon to discharge this office, and champion him to the utterance; that is, to fight it out to the extremity, which they called combatre à oultrance. But he uses the Scotch word utterance from oultrance, extremity. Warburton. After the former explication, Dr. Warburton was desirous to seem to do something; and he has therefore made fate the marshal, whom I had made the champion, and has left Macbeth to enter the lists without an opponent. Johnson. We meet with the same expression in Gawin Douglas's translation of Virgil, p. 331, 349: “That war not put by Greikis to utterance.” Again, in the History of Graund Amoure and la bel Pucelle, &c. by Stephen Hawes, 1555; “That so many monsters put to utteraunce.” Shakespeare uses it again in Cymbeline, act III. sc. i. Steevens.

Note return to page 901 8How you were borne in hand; &lblank;] i. e. made to believe what was not true, what would never happen or be made good to you. In this sense Chaucer uses it, Wife of Bath's Prol. p. 78. l. 2. 32: “A wise wife shall, &c. “Berin them in honde that the cowe is wode.” and our author in many places, Measure for Measure, act I. sc. viii. Warner. So, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Yet I will bear some dozen more in hand, “And make them all my gulls.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0540

Note return to page 902 9&lblank; Are you so gospell'd,] Are you of that degree of precise virtue? Gospeller was a name of contempt given by the Papists to the Lollards, the puritans of early times, and the precursors of protestantism. Johnson. So, in the Morality called Lusty Juventus, 1561: “What, is Juventus become so tame “To be a newe gospeller?” Again: “And yet ye are a great gospeller in the mouth.” I believe, however, that gospelled means no more than kept in obedience to that precept of the gospel, “to pray for those that despitefully use us.” Steevens.

Note return to page 903 1Shoughs, &lblank;] Shoughs are probably what we now call shocks, demi-wolves, lyciscæ; dogs bred between wolves and dogs. Johnson. This species of dogs is mentioned in Nash's Lenten Stuffe, &c. 1599: “&lblank; a trundle-tail, tike, or shough or two.” Steevens.

Note return to page 904 2&lblank; the valued file] In this speech the word file occurs twice, and seems in both places to have a meaning different from its present use. The expression, valued file, evidently means, a list or catalogue of value. A station in the file, and not in the worst rank, may mean, a place in the list of manhood, and not in the lowest place. But file seems rather to mean in this place, a post of honour; the first rank, in opposition to the last; a meaning which I have not observed in any other place. Johnson. &lblank; the valued file] Is the file or list where the value and peculiar qualities of every thing is set down, in contradistinction to what he immediately mentions, the bill that writes them all alike. File, in the second instance, is used in the same sense as in this, and with a reference to it.—Now if you belong to any class that deserves a place in the valued file of man, and are not of the lowest rank, the common herd of mankind, that are not worth distinguishing from each other. File and list are synonymous, as in the last act of this play: “&lblank; I have a file “Of all the gentry.” Again, in Heywood's dedication to the second part of his Iron Age, 1632: “&lblank; to number you in the file and list of my best and choicest well-wishers.” This expression occurs more than once in the Beggar's Bush of B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; all ways worthy, “As else in any file of mankind.” Shakespeare likewise has it in Measure for Measure: “The greater file of the subject held the duke to be wise.” In short, the valued file is the catalogue with prices annexed to it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 905 3So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,] We see the speaker means to say, that he is weary with struggling with adverse fortune. But this reading expresses but half the idea; viz. of a man tug'd and haled by fortune without making resistance. To give the compleat thought, we should read: So weary with disastrous tugs with fortune. This is well expressed, and gives the reason of his being weary, because fortune always hitherto got the better. And that Shakespeare knew how to express this thought, we have an instance in the Winter's Tale: “Let myself and fortune tug for the time to come.” Besides, to be tug'd with fortune, is scarce English. Warburton. Tug'd with fortune may be, tug'd or worried by fortune. Johnson.

Note return to page 906 4&lblank; in such bloody distance,] Distance, for enmity. Warburton. By bloody distance is here meant, such a distance as mortal enemies would stand at from each other when their quarrel must be determined by the sword. This sense seems evident from the continuation of the metaphor, where every minute of his being is represented as thrusting at the nearest part where life resides. Steevens.

Note return to page 907 5Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'the time,] What is meant by the spy of the time, it will be found difficult to explain; and therefore sense will be cheaply gained by a slight alteration. —Macbeth is assuring the assassins that they shall not want directions to find Banquo, and therefore says: I will &lblank; Acquaint you with a perfect spy o'the time. Accordingly a third murderer joins them afterwards at the place of action. Perfect is well instructed, or well informed, as in this play: “Though in your state of honour I am perfect.” though I am well acquainted with your quality and rank. Johnson. &lblank; the perfect spy o'the time,] i. e. the critical juncture. Warburton. How the critical juncture is the spy o'the time, I know not, but I think my own conjecture right. Johnson. The perfect spy of the time seems to be, the exact time, which shall be spied and watched for the purpose. Steevens. I rather believe we should read thus: Acquaint you with the perfect spot, the time, The moment on't; &lblank; Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 908 6&lblank; always thought, That I require a clearness: &lblank;] i. e. you must manage matters so, that throughout the whole transaction I may stand clear of suspicion. So, Holinshed: “&lblank; appointing them to meet Banquho and his sonne without the palace, as they returned to their lodgings, and there to flea them, so that he would not have his house slandered, but that in time to come he might cleare himself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 909 7&lblank; sorriest fancies &lblank;] i. e. worthless, ignoble, vile. So, in Othello: “I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me.” Sorry, however, might signify melancholy, dismal. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “The place of death and sorry execution.” Steevens.

Note return to page 910 8&lblank; scotch'd &lblank;] Mr. Theobald.—Fol. scorch'd. Johnson. Scotch'd is the true reading. So, in Coriolanus, act IV. sc. v: “&lblank; he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a carbonado.” Steevens.

Note return to page 911 9But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,] The old copy reads thus, and I have followed it, rejecting the modern innovation, which was: But let both worlds disjoint, and all things suffer. Steevens.

Note return to page 912 1Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace,] The old copy reads: Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace. This change, which appears to be necessary, was made by Mr. Rowe. Steevens.

Note return to page 913 2In restless ecstacy &lblank;] Ecstacy, for madness. Warburton. Ecstacy, in its general sense, signifies any violent emotion of the mind. Here it means the emotions of pain, agony. So, in Marlow's Tamburlaine, p. 1: “Griping our bowels with retorqued thoughts, “And have no hope to end our extasies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 914 3&lblank; present him eminence, &lblank;] i. e. do him the highest honours. Warburton.

Note return to page 915 4&lblank; nature's copy's not eterne.] The copy, the lease, by which they hold their lives from nature, has its time of termination limited. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0542 Eterne for eternal is often used by Chaucer. So, in the Knight's Tale, late edit. v. 1305. “&lblank; O cruel goddes, that governe “This world with binding of your word eterne, “And writen in the table of athamant “Your parlement and your eterne grant.” Steevens.

Note return to page 916 5The shard-borne beetle, &lblank;] i. e. the beetle hatched in clefts of wood. So, in Anthony and Cleopatra: “They are his shards, and he their beetle.” Warburton. The shard-borne beetle is not only the ancient but the true reading: i. e. the beetle borne along the air by its shards or scaly wings. From a passage in Gower De Confessione Amantis, it appears that shards signified scales: “She sigh, her thought, a dragon tho, “Whose scherdes shynen as the sonne:” 1. 6. fol. 138. and hence the upper or outward wings of the beetle were called shards, they being of a scaly substance. To have an outward pair of wings of a scaly hardness, serving as integuments to a filmy pair beneath them, is the characteristick of the beetle kind. Ben Jonson, in his Sad Shepherd, says: “The scaly beetles with their habergeons, “That make a humming murmur as they fly.” In Cymbeline, Shakespeare applies this epithet again to the beetle: “&lblank; we find “The sharded beetle in a safer hold “Than is the full-wing'd eagle.” Here there is a manifest opposition intended between the wings and flight of the insect and the bird. The beetle, whose sharded wings can but just raise him above the ground, is often in a state of greater security than the vast-winged eagle that can soar to any height. As Shakespeare is here describing the beetle in the act of flying, (for he never makes his humming noise but when he flies) it is more natural to suppose the epithet should allude to the peculiarity of his wings, than to the circumstance of his origin, or his place of habitation, both of which are common to him with several other creatures of the insect kind. The quotation from Anthony and Cleopatra, seems to make against Dr. Warburton's explanation. The meaning of Ænobarbus in that passage is evidently this: Lepidus, says he, is the beetle of the triumvirate, a dull, blind creature, that would but crawl on the earth, if Octavius and Antony, his more active colleagues in power, did not serve him for shards or wings to raise him a little above the ground. What idea is afforded, if we say that Octavius and Antony are two clefts in the old wood in which Lepidus was hatch'd? Steevens. The shard-born beetle is the beetle born in dung. Aristotle and Pliny mention beetle that breed in dung. Poets as well as natural historians have made the same observation. See Drayton's Ideas, 31; “I scorn all earthly dung-bred scarabies.” So, Ben Jonson, Whalley's edit. vol. I. p. 59: “But men of thy condition feed on sloth, “As doth the beetle on the dung she breeds in.” That shard signifies dung, is well known in the North of Staffordshire, where cowshard is the word generally used for cow-dung. So, in A petite Palace of Pettie his Pleasure, p. 165: “The humble-bee taketh no scorn to loge in a cowe's foule shard.” Again, in Bacon's Nat. Hist. exp. 775: “Turf and peat, and cowsheards, are cheap fuels, and last long.” The first folio edit. of Shakespeare reads shard-borne, and this manner of spelling borne is in favour of the present construction. So Shakespeare, as I believe, always writes it, when it signifies brought forth, as in Macbeth: “none of woman borne”—“one of woman borne.” In short, his Bible, or the old translation of the Bible, spelt it so. In Much Ado about Nothing, act III. sc. iv. he writes underborn without the final e. Sharded beetle in Cymbeline, means the beetle lodged in dung; and there the humble earthly abode of the beetle is opposed to the lofty eyry of the eagle in “the cedar, whose top branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,” as the poet observes in the third part of K. Hen. VI. act V. sc. ii. Tollet.

Note return to page 917 6&lblank; dearest chuck,] I meet with this term of endearment (which is probably corrupted from chick or chicken) in many of our ancient writers. So, in Warner's Albion's England, b. v. c. 27: “&lblank; immortal she-egg chuck of Tyndarus his wife.” Steevens.

Note return to page 918 7&lblank; Come sealing night,] Thus the common editions had it; but the old one, seeling, i. e. blinding; which is right. It is a term in falconry. Warburton. So, in the Booke of Hawkyng, Huntyng, &c. bl. l. no date: “And he must take wyth hym nedle and threde to ensyle the haukes that bene taken. And in thys maner the must be ensiled. Take the nedel and thryde, and put it through the over eye lyd, and soe of that other, and make them fast under the beeke that she se not, &c.” Steevens. &lblank; Come seeling night, Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! &lblank;] This may be well explained by the following passage in Rich. III: “Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray.” Again, in Cymbeline, act V. sc. iv: “&lblank; take this life, “And cancel these cold bonds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 919 8Light thickens; and the crow] By the expression, light thickens, Shakespeare means, the light grows dull or muddy. In this sense he uses it in Ant. and Cleop. “&lblank; my lustre thickens “When he shines by” &lblank; Edwards's MSS. It may be added, that in the second part of K. Hen. IV. Prince John of Lancaster tells Falstaff, that “his desert is too thick to shine.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 920 9Makes wing to the rooky wood:] Rooky may mean damp, misty, steaming with exhalations. It is only a North country variation of dialect from recky. In Coriolanus, Shakespeare mentions “&lblank; the reek of th' rotten fens.” And, in Caltha Poetarum, &c. 1599: “Comes in a vapour like a rookish ryme.” Rooky wood may, however, signify a rookery, the wood that abounds with rooks. Steevens.

Note return to page 921 1But who did bid thee join with us?] The meaning of this abrupt dialogue is this. The perfect spy, mentioned by Macbeth in the foregoing scene, has, before they enter upon the stage, given them the directions which were promised at the time of their agreement; yet one of the murderers suborned, suspects him of intending to betray them; the other observes, that, by his exact knowledge of what they were to do, he appears to be employed by Macbeth, and needs not be mistrusted. Johnson.

Note return to page 922 2&lblank; the note of expectation,] i. e. they who are set down in the list of guests, and expected to supper. Steevens.

Note return to page 923 3Was't not the way?] i. e. the best means we could take to evade discovery. Steevens.

Note return to page 924 4You know your own degrees, sit down: At first and last the hearty welcome.] As this passage stands, not only the numbers are very imperfect, but the sense, if any can be found, weak and contemptible. The numbers will be improved by reading: &lblank; sit down at first, And last a hearty welcome. But for last should then be written next. I believe the true reading is: You know your own degrees, sit down.—To first And last the hearty welcome. All of whatever degree, from the highest to the lowest, may be assured that their visit is well received. Johnson.

Note return to page 925 5Our hostess keeps her state, &c.] This idea might have been borrowed from Holinshed, p. 805: “The king (Hen. VIII.) caused the queene to keepe the estate, and then sat the ambassadours and ladies as they were marshalled by the king, who would not sit, but walked from place to place, making cheer &c.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0545

Note return to page 926 6'Tis better thee without, than he within.] The sense requires that this passage should be read thus: 'Tis better thee without, than him within. That is, I am better pleased that the blood of Banquo should be on thy face than in his body. The authour might mean, It is better than Banquo's blood were on thy face, than he in this room. Expressions thus imperfect are common in his works. Johnson.

Note return to page 927 7&lblank; trenched gashes &lblank;] Trancher to cut. Fr. So, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “Is deeply trenched on my blushing brow.” So, in another play of Shakespeare: “&lblank; like a figure “Trenched in ice.” Steevens.

Note return to page 928 8&lblank; the feast is sold, &c.] Mr. Pope reads: &lblank; the feast is cold,—and not without plausibility. Such another expression occurs in The Elder Brother of Beaumont and Fletcher: “You must be welcome too: &lblank; the feast is flat else.” And the same expression as Shakespeare's occurs in the Romaunt of the Rose: “Good dede done through praiere, “Is sold, and bought to dere.” Steevens. &lblank; the feast is sold, &lblank;] The meaning is,—That which is not given chearfully, cannot be called a gift, it is something that must be paid for. Johnson.

Note return to page 929 9Enter the ghost of Banquo, &lblank;] This circumstance of Banquo's ghost seems to be alluded to in The Puritan, first printed in 1607, and ridiculously ascribed to Shakespeare: “We'll ha' the ghost i' th' white sheet sit at upper end o' th' table.” Farmer. The circumstance of Banquo's ghost could not be alluded to in the Puritan, which was printed in 1600, some years before Macbeth was written. Malone.

Note return to page 930 1&lblank; extend his passion;] Prolong his suffering; make his fit longer. Johnson.

Note return to page 931 2O proper stuff!] This speech is rather too long for the circumstances in which it is spoken. It had begun better at, Shame itself! Johnson.

Note return to page 932 3&lblank; Oh, these flaws and starts, (Impostors to true fear,) would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authoriz'd by her grandam. &lblank;] Flaws, are sudden gusts. The authour perhaps wrote: &lblank; Those flaws and starts, Impostures true to fear would well become; A woman's story, &lblank; These symptoms of terrour and amazement might better become impostures true only to fear, might become a coward at the recital of such falsehoods as no man could credit, whose understanding was not weaken'd by his terrors; tales told by a woman over a fire on the authority of her grandam. Johnson. Oh, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, &lblank;] i. e. these flaws and starts, as they are indications of your needless fears, are the imitators or impostors only of those which arise from a fear well grounded. Warburton.

Note return to page 933 4Shall be the maws of kites.] The same thought occurs in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. ii. c. 8: “But be entombed in the raven or the kight.” Steevens.

Note return to page 934 5Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;] The gentle weal, is, the peaceable community, the state made quiet and safe by human statutes. “Mollia securæ peragebant otia gentes.” Johnson.

Note return to page 935 6Do not muse at me, &lblank;] To muse anciently signified to be in amaze. So, in All's Well that Ends Well: “And rather muse than ask.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Alchymist: “'Slid, doctor, how canst thou so soon know this? “I am a-mus'd at that.” Again, in K. Hen. IV. P. II. act IV: “I muse you make so slight a question.” Steevens.

Note return to page 936 7And all to all.] i. e. all good wishes to all: such as he had named above, love, health, and joy. Warburton. I once thought it should be hail to all, but I now think that the present reading is right. Johnson. Timon uses nearly the same expression to his guests, act I: “All to you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 937 8&lblank; the Hyrcan tyger,] Theobald chuses to read, in opposition to the old copy: &lblank; Hyrcanian tyger; but the alteration was unnecessary, as Dr. Philemon Holland, in his translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. p. 122, mentions the Hyrcane sea. Tollet. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0547

Note return to page 938 9If trembling I inhabit, &lblank;] This is the original reading, which Mr. Pope changed to inhibit, which inhibit Dr. Warburton interprets refuse. The old reading may stand, at least as well as the emendation. Suppose we read: If trembling I evade it. Johnson. Inhibit seems more likely to have been the poet's own word, as he uses it frequently in the sense required in this passage. Othello act I. sc. 7: “&lblank; a practiser “Of arts inhibited” &lblank; Hamlet, act II. sc. 6: “I think their inhibition comes of the late innovation.” To inhibit is to forbid. The poet probably might have written. If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 939 1Can such things be, And overcome us, like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? &lblank;] Why not? if they be only like a summer's cloud? The speech is given wrong; it is part of the lady's foregoing speech; and, besides that, is a little corrupt. We should read it thus: &lblank; Can't such things be, And overcome us, like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? &lblank;] i. e. cannot these visions, without so much wonder and amazement, be presented to the disturbed imagination in the manner that air visions, in summer clouds, are presented to a wanton one: which sometimes shew a lion, a castle, or a promontory? The thought is fine, and in character. Overcome is used for deceive. Warburton. The alteration is introduced by a misinterpretation. The meaning is not that these things are like a summer-cloud, but can such wonders as these pass over us without wonder, as a casual summer cloud passes over us. Johnson. No instance is given of this sense of the word overcome, which has caused all the difficulty; it is however to be found in Spenser, Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 7. st. 4: “&lblank; A little valley &lblank; “All covered with thick woods, that quite it overcame.” Farmer. A similar expression occurs in the Merchant of Venice: “I pr'ithee overname them; and as thou namest them, &c.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0549

Note return to page 940 2&lblank; You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe,] Which in plain English is only: You make me just mad. Warburton. You produce in me an alienation of mind, which is probably the expression which our author intended to paraphrase. Johnson. I do not think that either of the editors has very successfully explained this passage, which seems to mean.—You prove to me that I am a stranger even to my own disposition, when I perceive that the very object which steals the colour from my cheek, permits it to remain in yours. In other words,—You prove to me how false an opinion I have hitherto maintained of my own courage, when yours on the trial is found to exceed it. A thought somewhat similar occurs in the Merry Wives of Windsor, act II. sc. i: “I'll entertain myself like one I am not acquainted withal.” Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: act V: “&lblank; if you know “That you are well acquainted with yourself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 941 3&lblank; are blanch'd with fear.] i. e. turn'd pale, as in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623:   “Thou dost blanch mischief, “Dost make it white.” Steevens.

Note return to page 942 4Augurs, and understood relations, &lblank;] By the word relation is understood the connection of effects with causes; to understand relations as an augur, is to know how these things relate to each other, which have no visible combination or dependence. Johnson. Augurs, and understood relations, &lblank;] By relations is meant the relation one thing is supposed to bear to another. The ancient soothsayers of all denominations practised their art upon the principle of analogy. Which analogies were founded in a superstitious philosophy arising out of the nature of ancient idolatry; which would require a volume to explain. If Shakespeare meant what I suppose he did by relations, this shews a very profound knowledge of antiquity. But, after all, in his licentious way, by relations, he might only mean languages, i. e. the language of birds. Warburton. The old copy has the passage thus: Augures, and understood relations, have By maggot-pies and choughs, &c. The modern editors read: Augurs that understand relations, have By magpies and by choughs, &c. Perhaps we should read, auguries, i. e. prognostications by means of omens or prodigies. These, together with the connection of effects with causes, being understood (says he) have been instrumental in divulging the most secret murders. In Cotgrave's Dictionary, a magpie is called a magatapie. Magot-pie is the original name of the bird; Magot being the familiar appellation given to pies, as we say Robin to a redbreast, Tom to a titmouse, Philip to a sparrow, &c. The modern mag is the abbreviation of the ancient Magot, a word which we had from the French. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0550 Mr. Steevens rightly restores magot-pies. In Minshew's Guide to the Tongues, 1617, we meet with a maggatapie: and Middleton in his More Dissemblers beside Women, says: “He calls her magot o' pie.” Farmer.

Note return to page 943 5How say'st thou, &c.] Macbeth here asks a question, which the recollection of a moment enables him to answer. Of this forgetfulness, natural to a mind oppress'd, there is a beautiful instance in the sacred song of Deborah and Barak: “She asked her wise women counsel, yea, she returned answer to herself.” This circumstance likewise takes its rise from history. Macbeth sent to Macduff to assist in building the castle of Dunsinane. Macduff sent workmen &c. but did not chuse to trust his person in the tyrant's power. From this time he resolved on his death. Steevens.

Note return to page 944 6There's not a one of them, &lblank;] A one of them, however uncouth the phrase, signifies an individual. In Albumazar, 1610, the same expression occurs: “&lblank; Not a one shakes his tail, but I sigh out a passion.” Theobald would read thane; and might have found his proposed emendation in Betterton's alteration of Macbeth, 1674. This avowal of the tyrant is authorized by Holinshed: “He had in every nobleman's house one slie fellow or other in fee with him to reveale all &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 945 7&lblank; be scann'd.] To scan is to examine nicely. Thus, in Hamlet: “&lblank; so he goes to heaven, “And so am I reveng'd:—that must be scann'd.” Again, in Heywood's Golden Age, 1611: “&lblank; how these are scann'd, “Let none decide but such as understand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 946 8You lack the season of all natures, sleep.] I take the meaning to be, you want sleep, which seasons, or gives the relish to all nature. “Indiget somni vitæ condimenti.” Johnson. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.] This word is often used in this sense by our author. So, in All's Well that Ends Well: “'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in.” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “But I alone, alone must sit and pine, “Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0552

Note return to page 947 9We are yet but young in deed.] The editions before Theobald read: We're yet but young indeed. Johnson. The meaning is not ill explained by a line in K. Hen. VI. third part: We are not, Macbeth would say, “Made impudent with use of evil deeds.” The initiate fear, is the fear that always attends the first initiation into guilt, before the mind becomes callous and insensible by frequent repetitions of it, or (as the poet says) by hard use. Steevens.

Note return to page 948 1&lblank; meeting Hecate.] Shakespeare has been censured for introducing Hecate among the vulgar witches, and, consequently, for confounding ancient with modern superstitions.—He has, however, authority for giving a mistress to the witches. Delrio Disquis. Mag. lib. ii. quæst 9. quotes a passage of Apuleius, Lib. de Asino aureo: “de quadam Caupona, regina Sagarum.” And adds further: —“ut scias etiam tum quasdam ab iis hoc titulo honoratas.” In consequence of this information, Ben Jonson, in one of his masques, has introduced a character which he calls a Dame, who presides at the meeting of the Witches: “Sisters, stay; we want our dame.” The dame accordingly enters, invested with marks of superiority, and the rest pay an implicit obedience to her commands. Shakespeare is therefore blameable only for calling his presiding character Hecate, as it might have been brought on with propriety under any other title whatever. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0553

Note return to page 949 2&lblank; the pit of Acheron] Shakespeare seems to have thought it allowable to bestow the name of Acheron on any fountain, lake, or pit, through which there was vulgarly supposed to be a communication between this and the infernal world. The true original Acheron was a river in Greece; and yet Virgil gives this name to his lake in the valley of Amsanctus in Italy. Steevens.

Note return to page 950 3&lblank; vap'rous drop profound;] That is, a drop that has profound, deep, or hidden qualities. Johnson. There hangs a vap'rous drop profound;] This vaporous drop seems to have been meant for the same as the virus lunare of the ancients, being a foam which the moon was supposed to shed on particular herbs, or other objects, when strongly solicited by enchantment. Lucan introduces Erictho using it. l. 6: “et virus large lunare ministrat.” Steevens.

Note return to page 951 4&lblank; slights,] Arts; subtle practices. Johnson.

Note return to page 952 5Enter Lenox, and another Lord.] As this tragedy, like the rest of Shakespeare's, is perhaps overstocked with personages, it is not easy to assign a reason why a nameless character should be introduced here, since nothing is said that might not with equal propriety have been put into the mouth of any other disaffected man. I believe therefore that in the original copy it was written with a very common form of contraction Lenox and An. for which the transcriber, instead of Lenox and Angus, set down Lenox and another Lord. The authour had indeed been more indebted to the transcriber's fidelity and diligence, had he committed no errors of greater importance. Johnson.

Note return to page 953 6The son of Duncan,] The common editions have sons. Theobald corrected it. Johnson.

Note return to page 954 7&lblank; Thither Macduff is gone To pray the holy king, &c.] The modern editors, for the sake of the metre, omit the word holy, and read: &lblank; Thither Macduff Is gone to pray the king, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 955 8Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives;] The construction is—Free our feasts and banquets from bloody knives. Perhaps the words are transposed, and the line originally stood: Our feasts and banquets free from bloody knives. Malone.

Note return to page 956 9&lblank; and receive free honours,] Free for grateful. Warburton. How can free be grateful? It may be either honours freely bestowed, not purchased by crimes; or honours without slavery, without dread of a tyrant. Johnson.

Note return to page 957 1&lblank; their king, &lblank;] The sense requires that we should read the king, i. e. Macbeth. Their is the reading of the old copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 958 2Advise him to a caution, &lblank;] Thus the old copy. The modern editors, to add smoothness to the versification, read: &lblank; to a care. &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 959 3SCENE I.] As this is the chief scene of enchantment in the play, it is proper in this place to observe, with how much judgment Shakespeare has selected all the circumstances of his infernal ceremonies, and how exactly he has conformed to common opinions and traditions: “Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.” The usual form in which familiar spirits are reported to converse with witches, is that of a cat. A witch, who was tried about half a century before the time of Shakespeare, had a cat named Rutterkin, as the spirit of one of those witches was Grimalkin; and when any mischief was to be done, she used to bid Rutterkin go and fly. But once when she would have sent Rutterkin to torment a daughter of the countess of Rutland, instead of going or flying, he only cried mew, from whence she discovered that the lady was out of his power, the power of witches being not universal, but limited, as Shakespeare has taken care to inculcate: “Though his bark cannot be lost, “Yet it shall be tempest-tost.” The common afflictions which the malice of witches produced, were melancholy, fits, and loss of flesh, which are threatned by one of Shakespeare's witches: “Weary sev'n nights, nine times nine, “Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.” It was likewise their practice to destroy the cattle of their neighbours, and the farmers have to this day many ceremonies to secure their cows and other cattle from witchcraft; but they seem to have been most suspected of malice against swine. Shakespeare has accordingly made one of his witches declare that she has been killing swine; and Dr. Harsnet observes, that about that time, “a sow could not be ill of the measles, nor a girl of the sullens, but some old woman was charg'd with witchcraft.” “Toad, that under the cold stone, “Days and nights hast thirty one, “Swelter'd venom sleeping got; “Boil thou first i'the charmed pot.” Toads have likewise long lain under the reproach of being by some means accessary to witchcraft, for which reason Shakespeare, in the first scene of this play, calls one of the spirits Padocke or Toad, and now takes care to put a toad first into the pot. When Vaninus was seized at Tholouse, there was found at his lodgings ingens Bufo Vitro inclusus, a great toad shut in a vial, upon which those that prosecuted him Veneficium exprobrabant, charged him, I suppose, with witchcraft. “Fillet of a fenny snake, “In the cauldron boil and bake: “Eye of newt, and toe of frog; &lblank; “For a charm, &c.” The propriety of these ingredients may be known by consulting the books de Viribus Animalium and de Mirabilibus Mundi, ascribed to Albertus Magnus, in which the reader, who has time and credulity, may discover very wonderful secrets. “Finger of birth-strangled babe, “Ditch-deliver'd by a drab;” &lblank; It has been already mentioned in the law against witches, that they are supposed to take up dead bodies to use in enchantments, which was confessed by the woman whom king James examined, and who had of a dead body that was divided in one of their assemblies, two fingers for her share. It is observable that Shakespeare, on this great occasion which involves the fate of a king, multiplies all the circumstances of horror. The babe, whose finger is used, must be strangled in its birth; the grease must not only be human, but must have dropped from a gibbet, the gibbet of a murderer; and even the sow, whose blood is used, must have offended nature by devouring her own farrow. These are touches of judgment and genius. “And now about the cauldron sing &lblank; “Black spirits and white,   “Blue spirits and grey, “Mingle, mingle, mingle,   “You that mingle may.” And in a former part: “&lblank; weird sisters, hand in hand, &lblank; “Thus do go about, about, “Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, “And thrice again to make up nine! These two passages I have brought together, because they both seem subject to the objection of too much levity for the solemnity of enchantment, and may both be shewn, by one quotation from Camden's account of Ireland, to be founded upon a practice really observed by the uncivilised natives of that country: “When any one gets a fall, says the informer of Camden, he starts up, and, turning three times to the right, digs a hole in the earth; for they imagine that there is a spirit in the ground, and if he falls sick in two or three days, they send one of their women that is skilled in that way to the place, where she says, I call thee from the east, west, north and south, from the groves, the woods, the rivers, and the fens, from the fairies, red, black, white.” There was likewise a book written before the time of Shakespeare, describing, amongst other properties, the colours of spirits. Many other circumstances might be particularised, in which Shakespeare has shown his judgment and his knowledge. Johnson.

Note return to page 960 4Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.] A cat from time immemorial, has been the agent and favourite of witches. This superstitious fancy is pagan, and very ancient; and the original, perhaps this: When Galinthia was changed into a cat by the Fates, (says Antonius Liberalis, Metam. cap. 29.) by witches, (says Pausanias in his Bœotics) Hecate took pity of her, and made her her priestess; in which she continues to this day. Hecate herself too, when Typhon forced all the gods and goddesses to hide themselves in animals, assumed the shape of a cat. So, Ovid: “Fele soror Phœbi latuit.” Warburton.

Note return to page 961 5Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.] Mr. Theobald reads: twice and once, &c. and observes that odd numbers are used in all enchantments and magical operations. The remark is just, but the passage was misunderstood. The second Witch only repeats the number which the first had mentioned, in order to confirm what she had said; and then adds, that the hedge pig had likewise cried, though but once. Or what seems more easy, the hedge-pig had whined thrice, and after an interval had whined once again. Even numbers, however, were always reckoned inauspicious. So in the Honest Lawyer, by S. S. 1616: “Sure 'tis not a lucky time; the first crow I heard this morning, cried twice. This even, sir, is no good number.” Twice and once, however, might be a cant expression. So, in K. Hen. IV. P. II. Silence says: “I have been merry twice and once, ere now.” Steevens.

Note return to page 962 6Harper cries: &lblank;] This is some imp, or familiar spirit, concerning whose etymology and office, the reader may be wiser than the editor. Those who are acquainted with Dr. Farmer's pamphlet, will be unwilling to derive the name of Harper from Ovid's Harpalos, ab &grar;&grr;&grp;&graa;&grz;&grw; rapio. See Upton's Critical Observations &c. edit 1748, p. 155. Steevens.

Note return to page 963 7&lblank; 'tis time, 'tis time.] This familiar does not cry out that it is time for them to begin their enchantments, but cries, i. e. gives them the signal, upon which the third Witch communicates the notice to her sisters: “Harper cries; &lblank; 'tis time, 'tis time. Steevens.

Note return to page 964 8Swelter'd venom &lblank;] This word seems to be employ'd by Shakespeare to signify that the animal was moistened with its own cold exsudations. So, in the twenty-second song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “And all the knights there dub'd the morning but before, “The evening sun beheld there swelter'd in their gore.” Steevens.

Note return to page 965 9Double, double toil and trouble;] As this was a very extraordinary incantation, they were to double their pains about it. I think, therefore, it should be pointed as I have pointed it: Double, double toil and trouble; otherwise the solemnity is abated by the immediate recurrence of the rhime. Steevens.

Note return to page 966 1&lblank; blind-worm's sting,] The blind-worm is the slow-worm. So, Drayton in Noah's Flood: “The small-ey'd slow-worm held of many blind.” Steevens.

Note return to page 967 2&lblank; maw, and gulf] The gulf is the swallow, the throat. Steevens.

Note return to page 968 3&lblank; ravin'd salt-sea shark;] Ravin'd is glutted with prey. Ravin is the ancient word for prey obtained by violence. So. in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 7: “&lblank; but a den for beasts of ravin made.” The same word occurs again in Measure for Measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 969 4Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;] Sliver'd is a common word in the North, where it means to cut a piece or slice. Again, in K. Lear: “She who herself will sliver and disbranch.” Steevens.

Note return to page 970 5Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;] These ingredients in all probability owed their introduction to the detestation in which the Saracens were held, on account of the holy wars. Steevens.

Note return to page 971 6Add thereto a tyger's chaudron.] Chaudron, i. e. entrails; a word formerly in common use in the books of cookery, in one of which, printed in 1597, I meet with a receipt to make a pudding of a calf's chaldron. Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “Sixpence a meal wench, as well as heart can wish, with calves' chauldrons and chitterlings.” At the coronation feast of Elizabeth of York, queen of Henry VII. among other dishes, one was “a swan with chawdron,” meaning, I suppose, roasted with entrails in it, or undrawn. See Ives's Select Papers; No. 3. p. 140. Steevens.

Note return to page 972 7&lblank; a song.] Of this song, only the two first words are found in the old copy of the play. The rest was supplied from Betterton's or sir W. Davenant's alteration of it in the year 1674. The song was however in all probability a traditional one. The colours of spirits are often mentioned. So, in Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “Be thou black, or white, or green, “Be thou heard, or to be seen.” Steevens.

Note return to page 973 8By the pricking of my thumbs &c.] It is a very ancient superstition, that all sudden pains of the body, and other sensations which could not naturally be accounted for, were presages of somewhat that was shortly to happen. Hence Mr. Upton has explained a passage in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus: “Timeo quod rerum gefferim hic, ita dorsus totus prurit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 974 9&lblank; yesty waves] That is, foaming or frothy waves. Johnson.

Note return to page 975 1Though castles topple &lblank;] Topple, is used for tumble. So, in Marlow's Lust's Dominion, act IV. sc. iii: “That I might pile up Charon's boat so full, “Until it topple o'er.” Again, in Shirley's Gentleman of Venice: “&lblank; may be, his haste hath toppled him “Into the river.” Again, in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “The very principals did seem to rend, and all to topple.” Steevens.

Note return to page 976 2Of nature's germins &lblank;] This was substituted by Theobald for Nature's germaine. Johnson. So, in K. Lear, act III. sc. ii: “&lblank; all germins spill at once “That make ungrateful man.” Germins are seeds which have begun to germinate or sprout. Germen, Lat. Germe, Fr. Germe is a word used by Brown in his Vulgar Errors: “Whether it be not made out of the germe or treadle of the egg &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 977 3&lblank; deftly, show.] i. e. with adroitness, dexterously. So, in the second part of K. Edward IV. by Heywood, 1626: “&lblank; my mistress speaks deftly and truly.” Deft is a North Country word. So, in Richard Brome's Northern Lass, 1633: “&lblank; He said I were a deft lass.” Steevens.

Note return to page 978 4Apparition of an armed head rises.] The armed head represents symbolically Macbeth's head cut off and brought to Malcolm by Macduff. The bloody child is Macduff untimely ripp'd from his mother's womb. The child with a crown on his head, and a bough in his hand, is the royal Malcolm, who ordered his soldiers to hew them down a bough, and bear it before them to Dunsinane. This observation I have adopted from Mr. Upton. Steevens. Lord Howard, in his Defensative against the Poison of supposed Prophecies, mentions “a notable example of a conjuror, who represented (as it were, in dumb show) all the persons who should possess the crown of France; and caused the king of Navarre, or rather a wicked spirit in his stead, to appear in the fifth place, &c.” Farmer.

Note return to page 979 5&lblank; say thou nought.] Silence was necessary during all incantations. So, in Dr. Faustus: 1604: “Your grace demand no questions &lblank; “But in dumb silence let them come and go.” Again, in the Tempest: “&lblank; be mute, or else our spell is marr'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 980 6Beware the thane of Fife. &lblank;] “&lblank; He had learned of certaine wizzards, in whose words he put great confidence, how that he ought to take heede of Macduff, &c. Holinshed. Steevens.

Note return to page 981 7Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: &lblank;] To harp, is to touch on a passion as a harper touches a string. So, in Coriolanus, act II. sc. ult. “Harp on that still.” Steevens.

Note return to page 982 8Shall harm Macbeth.] So, Holinshed:&lblank; “And surely hereupon he had put Macduff to death, but that a certaine witch, whom he had in great trust, had told him, that he should never be slaine with man borne of anie woman, nor vanquished till the wood of Bernane came to the castell of Dunsinane. This prophecie put all feare out of his heart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 983 9&lblank; the round And top of sovereignty?] This round is that part of the crown that encircles the head. The top is the ornament that rises above it. Johnson.

Note return to page 984 1&lblank; Dunsinane's high hill] The folio reads; &lblank; high Dunsinane hill &lblank; and I have followed it. Steevens.

Note return to page 985 2Who can impress the forest; &lblank;] i. e. who can command the forest to serve him like a soldier impress'd. Johnson.

Note return to page 986 3Rebellious dead, rise never, &lblank;] We should read: &lblank; Rebellious head,—i.e let the rebellion never get to a head and be successful till—and then— Warburton. Mr. Theobald, who first proposed this change, rightly observes, that head means host, or power. “Douglas and the rebels met, “A mighty and a fearful head they are.” And again: “His divisions—are in three heads. Johnson. Again, in the Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “&lblank; howling like a head of angry wolves.” Again, in Look about You, 1600: “Is, like a head of people, mutinous.” Steevens.

Note return to page 987 4&lblank; eight kings.] “It is reported that Voltaire often laughs at the tragedy of Macbeth, for having a legion of ghosts in it. One should imagine he either had not learned English, or had forgot his Latin; for the spirits of Banquo's line are no more ghosts, than the representations of the Julian race in the Æneid; and there is no ghost but Banquo's throughout the play.” Essay on the Genius and Writings of Shakespeare, &c. by Mrs. Montague. Steevens.

Note return to page 988 5Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls: &lblank;] The expression of Macbeth, that the crown sears his eye-balls, is taken from the method formerly practised of destroying the sight of captives or competitors, by holding a burning bason before the eye, which dried up its humidity. Whence the Italian, abacinare, to blind. Johnson.

Note return to page 989 6In former editions: &lblank; and thy hair, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first: A third is like the former: &lblank;] As Macbeth expected to see a train of kings, and was only enquiring from what race they would proceed, he could not be surprised that the hair of the second was bound with gold like that of the first; he was offended only that the second resembled the first, as the first resembled Banquo, and therefore said: &lblank; and thy air, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. This Dr. Warburton has followed. Johnson. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0559

Note return to page 990 7&lblank; to the crack of doom? &lblank;] i. e. the dissolution of nature. Crack has now a mean signification. It was anciently employ'd in a more exalted sense. So, in the Valiant Welchman, 1615: “And will as fearless entertain this fight “As a good conscience doth the cracks of Jove.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0560

Note return to page 991 8And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,] This method of juggling prophecy is again referred to in Measure for Measure, act II. sc. vii: “&lblank; and like a prophet, “Looks in a glass and shews me future evils.” So, in an Extract from the Penal Laws against Witches, it is said, that “they do answer either by voice, or else do set before their eyes in glasses, chrystal stones, &c. the pictures or images of the persons or things sought for.” Among the other knaveries with which Face taxes Subtle in the Alchemist, this seems to be one: “And taking in of shadows with a glass.” Again, in Humor's Ordinarie, an ancient collection of satires, no date: “Shew you the devil in a chrystal glass.” Spenser has given a very circumstantial account of the glass which Merlin made for king Ryence, in the second canto of the third book of the Faery Queen. A mirror of the same kind was presented to Cambuscan in the Squier's Tale of Chaucer. Steevens.

Note return to page 992 9That twofold balls and treble scepters carry:] This was intended as a compliment to king James the first, who first united the two islands and the three kingdoms under one head; whose house too was said to be descended from Banquo. Warburton. Of this last particular, our poet seems to have been thoroughly aware, having represented Banquo not only as an innocent, but as a noble character, whereas, according to history, he was confederate with Macbeth in the murder of Duncan. The flattery of Shakespeare, however, is not more gross than that of Ben Jonson, who has condescended to quote his majesty's book on Dæmonology, in the notes to the Masque of Queens, 1609. Steevens.

Note return to page 993 1&lblank; the blood-bolter'd Banquo &lblank;] Gildon has ridiculously interpreted blood-bolter'd, in a thing he calls a Glossary, to signify smear'd with dry blood; he might as well have said with extreme unction. Blood-bolter'd means one whose blood hath issued out at many wounds, as flour of corn passes through the holes of a sieve. Shakespeare used it to insinuate the barbarity of Banquo's murderers, who covered him with wounds. Warburton. The same idea occurs in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “Then stab him, till his flesh be as a sieve.” Again, in the Life and Death of the Lord Cromwell, 1613: “I'll have my body first bored like a sieve.” Steevens.

Note return to page 994 2Stand aye accursed in the calendar!] In the ancient almanacs the unlucky days were distinguished by a mark of reprobation. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “&lblank; henceforth let it stand “Within the wizard's book, the kalender, “Mark'd with a marginal finger to be chosen “By thieves, by villains, and black murderers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 995 3Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:] To anticipate is here to prevent, by taking away the opportunity. Johnson.

Note return to page 996 4The very firstlings &lblank;] Firstlings in its primitive sense is the first produce or offspring. So, in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “The firstlings of their vowed sacrifice.” Here it means the thing first thought or done. Shakespeare uses the word again in the prologue to Troilus and Cressida: “Leaps o'er the vant and firstlings of these broils.” Steevens.

Note return to page 997 5That trace him &c.] i. e. follow, succeed him. So, in sir A. Gorges' translation of the third book of Lucan: “The tribune's curses in like case, “Said he, did greedy Crassus trace.” Steevens.

Note return to page 998 6&lblank; natural touch: &lblank;] Natural sensibility. He is not touched with natural affection. Johnson.

Note return to page 999 7&lblank; the poor wren, &c.] The same thought occurs in the third part of K. Henry VI: “&lblank; doves will peck, in safety of their brood. “Who hath not seen them (even with those wings “Which sometimes they have us'd in fearful flight) “Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, “Offering their own lives in their young's defence?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1000 8The fits o'the season. &lblank;] The fits of the season should appear to be, from the following passage in Coriolanus, the violent disorders of the season, its convulsions: “&lblank; but that “The violent fit o'th' times craves it as physic.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1001 9&lblank; when we are traitors, And do not know ourselves; &lblank;] i. e. we think ourselves innocent, the government thinks us traitors; therefore we are ignorant of ourselves. This is the ironical argument. The Oxford editor alters it to: And do not know't ourselves: &lblank; But sure they did know what they said, the state esteemed them traitors. Warburton.

Note return to page 1002 1&lblank; when we hold rumour From what we fear, &lblank;] To hold rumour signifies to be governed by the authority of rumour. Warburton. I rather think to hold means in this place, to believe, as we say, I hold such a thing to be true, i. e. I take it, I believe it to be so. Thus, in K. Hen. VIII: “&lblank; Did you not of late days hear, &c. “1 Gen. Yes, but held it not.” The sense of the whole passage will then be: The times are cruel when our fears induce us to believe, or take for granted, what we hear rumour'd or reported abroad; and yet at the same time, as we live under a tyrannical government where will is substituted for law, we know not what we have to fear, because we know not when we offend. Or: When we are led by our fears to believe every rumour of danger we hear, yet are not conscious to ourselves of any crime for which we should be disturbed with those fears. A passage like this occurs in K. John: “Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams, “Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear.” This is the best I can make of the passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 1003 2&lblank; in your state of honour I am perfect.] i. e. I am perfectly acquainted with your rank of honour. So, in the old book that treateth of the Lyfe of Virgil &c. bl. l. no date: “&lblank; which when Virgil saw, he looked in his boke of negromancy wherein he was perfit.” Again, in The Play of the Four Ps. 1569: “Pot. Then tell me this, are you perfit in drinking? “Ped. Perit in drinking as may be wish'd by thinking.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1004 3To do worse to you were fell cruelty,] To do worse is, to let her and her children be destroyed without warning. Johnson.

Note return to page 1005 4&lblank; shag-ear'd villain.] Perhaps we should read shag-hair'd, for it is an abusive epithet very often used in our ancient plays. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, part second, 1630: “&lblank; a shag-haired cur.” Again, in our author's K. Hen. VI. P. II: “&lblank; like a shag-haired crafty Kern.” Again, in sir Arthur Gorges' translation of Lucan, 1614: “That shag-hair'd Caicos tam'd with forts.” And Chapman in his translation of the 7th book of Homer, 1598, applies the same epithet to the Greeks. Again, in the spurious play of K. Leir, 1605: “There she had set a shagbayr'd murdering wretch.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1006 5Enter &lblank;] The part of Holinshed's Chronicle which relates to this play, is no more than an abridgement of John Bellenden's translation of the Noble Clerk, Hector Boece, imprinted at Edinburgh, 1541. For the satisfaction of the reader, I have inserted the words of the first mentioned historian, from whom this scene is almost literally taken:—“Though Malcolme was verie sorrowfull for the oppression of his countriemen the Scots, in manner as Makduffe had declared, yet doubting whether he was come as one that ment unfeinedlie as he spake, or else as sent from Makbeth to betraie him, he thought to have some further triall, and thereupon dissembling his mind at the first, he answered as followeth: “I am trulie verie sorie for the miserie chanced to my countrie of Scotland, but though I have never so great affection to relieve the same, yet by reason of certaine incurable vices, which reigne in me, I am nothing meet thereto. First, such immoderate lust and voluptuous sensualitie (the abhominable fountaine of all vices) followeth me, that if I were made king of Scots, I should seek to defloure your maids and matrones, in such wise that mine intemperancie should be more importable unto you than the bloody tyrannie of Makbeth now is. Hereunto Makduffe answered: This suerlie is a very euil fault, for manie noble princes and kings have lost both lives and kingdomes for the same; neverthelesse there are women enow in Scotland, and therefore follow my counsell. Make thy selfe king, and I shall conveie the matter so wiselie, that thou shalt be so satisfied at thy pleasure in such secret wise, that no man shall be aware thereof. “Then said Malcolme, I am also the most avaritious creature in the earth, so that if I were king, I should seeke so manie waies to get lands and goods, that I would slea the most part of all the nobles of scotland by surmized accusation, to the end I might enjoy their lands, goods and possessions; and therefore to shew you what mischiefe may ensue on you through mine insatiable covetousnes, I will rehearse unto you a fable. There was a fox having a sore place on him overset with a swarme of flies, that continuallie sucked out hir bloud: and when one that came by and saw this manner, demanded whether she would have the flies driven beside hir, she answered no; for if these flies that are alreadie full, and by reason thereof sucke not verie eagerlie, should be chased awaie, other that are emptie and fellie an hungred, should light in their places, and sucke out the residue of my bloud farre more to my greevance than these, which now being satisfied doo not much annoie me. Therefore, saith Malcolme, suffer me to remaine where I am, lest if I atteine to the regiment of your realme, mine unquenchable avarice may proove such, that ye would thinke the displeasures which now grieve you, should seeme easie in respect of the unmeasurable outrage which might insue through my comming amongst you. “Makduffe to this made answer, how it was a far woorse fault than the other: for avarice is the root of all mischiefe, and for that crime the most part of our kings have beene slaine, and brought to their finall end. Yet notwithstanding follow my counsell, and take upon thee the crowne. There is gold and riches inough in Scotland to satisfie thy greedie desire. Then said Malcolme again, I am furthermore inclined to dissimulation, telling of leasings, and all other kinds of deceit, so that I naturallie rejoise in nothing so much, as to betraie and deceive such as put anie trust or confidence in my woords. Then sith there is nothing that more becommeth a prince than constancie, veritie, truth, and justice, with the other laudable fellowship of those faire and noble vertues which are comprehended onelie in soothfastnesse, and that lieng utterlie overthroweth the same, you see how unable I am to governe anie province or region: and therefore sith you have remedies to cloke and hide all the rest of my other vices, I praie you find shift to cloke this vice amongst the residue. “Then said Makduffe: This is yet the woorst of all, and there I leave thee, and therefore saie; Oh ye unhappie and miserable Scotishmen, which are thus scourged with so manie and sundrie calamities each one above other! Ye have one cursed and wicked tyrant that now reigneth over you, without anie right or title, oppressing you with his most bloudie crueltie. This other that hath the right to the crowne, is so replet with the inconstant behaviour and manifest vices of Englishmen, that he is nothing woorthie to enjoy it: for by his owne confession he is not onelie avaritious and given to unsatiable lust, but so false a traitor withall, that no trust is to be had unto anie woord he speaketh. Adieu Scotland, for now I account myself a banished man for ever, without comfort or consolation: and with those woords the brackish tears trickled downe his cheekes verie abundantlie. “At the last, when he was readie to depart, Malcolme tooke him by the sleeve, and said: Be of good comfort Makduffe, for I have none of these vices before remembred, but have jested with thee in this manner, onlie to prove thy mind: for divers times heretofore Makbeth sought by this manner of means to bring me into his hands, &c.” Holinshed's Hist. of Scotland, p. 175. Steevens.

Note return to page 1007 6In former editions: Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, Bestride our downfal birthdoom: &lblank;] He who can discover what is meant by him that earnestly exhorts him to bestride his downfal birth-doom, is at liberty to adhere to the present text; but it is probable that Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; like good men, Bestride our downfaln birthdom &lblank; The allusion is to a man from whom something valuable is about to be taken by violence, and who, that he may defend it without incumbrance, lays it on the ground, and stands over it with his weapon in his hand. Our birthdom, or birthright, says he, lies on the ground; let us, like men who are to fight for what is dearest to them, not abandon it, but stand over it and defend it. This is a strong picture of obstinate resolution. So Falstaff says to Hal: “When I am down, if thou wilt bestride me, so.” Birthdom for birthright is formed by the same analogy with masterdom in this play, signifying the privileges or rights of a master. Perhaps it might be birth-dame for mother; let us stand over our mother that lies bleeding on the ground. Johnson. There is no need of change. In the second part of K. Hen. IV. Morton says: “&lblank; he doth bestride a bleeding land.” And the old reading in this play of Macbeth is not birthdoom, but birthdom. Steevens.

Note return to page 1008 7Bestride our down-faln birthdom: &lblank;] To protect it from utter destruction. The allusion is to the Hyperaspists of the ancients, who bestrode their fellows faln in battle, and covered them with their shields. Warburton.

Note return to page 1009 8&lblank; and yell'd out Like syllable of dolour.] This presents a ridiculous image. But what is insinuated under it is noble; that the portents and prodigies in the skies, of which mention is made before, shewed that heaven sympathised with Scotland. Warburton. The ridicule, I believe, is only visible to the commentator. Steevens.

Note return to page 1010 9&lblank; to friend, &lblank;] i. e. to befriend. Steevens.

Note return to page 1011 1You may discern of him through me, &lblank;] By Macduff's answer it appears we should read: &lblank; deserve of him &lblank; Warburton.

Note return to page 1012 2A good and virtuous nature may recoil In an imperial charge. &lblank;] A good mind may recede from goodness in the execution of a royal commission. Johnson.

Note return to page 1013 3Though all things foul &c.] This is not very clear. The meaning perhaps is this:—My suspicions cannot injure you, if you be virtuous, by supposing that a traitor may put on your virtuous appearance. I do not say that your virtuous appearance proves you a traitor; for virtue must wear its proper form, though that form be counterfeited by villany. Johnson.

Note return to page 1014 4Why in that rawness &lblank;] Without previous provision, without due preparation, without maturity of counsel. Johnson. &lblank; in that rawness &lblank;] I meet with this expression in Lilly's Euphues, 1580, and in the quarto 1608, of K. Hen. V: “Some their wives rawly left.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1015 5&lblank; wear thou thy wrongs,] That is, Poor country, wear thou thy wrongs. Johnson.

Note return to page 1016 6His title is affear'd! &lblank;] Affear'd, a law term for confirm'd. Pope. What Mr. Pope says of the law-term, is undoubtedly true, but there is no reason why we should have recourse to it for the explanation of this passage. Macduff first apostrophises his country, and afterwards points to Malcolm, saying, that his title was afear'd, i. e. frighted from exerting itself. Throughout the ancient editions of Shakespeare, the word afraid is written as it was formerly pronounced, afear'd. The old copy reads,—The title &c. i. e. the regal title is afraid to assert itself. Steevens. If we read, The title is affear'd, the meaning may be:—Poor country, wear thou thy wrongs, the title to them is legally settled by those who had the final judication of it. Affeerers had the power of confirming or moderating fines and amercements. Tollet.

Note return to page 1017 7It is myself I mean: in whom I know] This conference of Malcolm with Macduff is taken out of the chronicles of Scotland. Pope.

Note return to page 1018 8Sudden, malicious, &lblank;] Sudden, for capricious. Warburton. Rather, violent, passionate, hasty. Johnson.

Note return to page 1019 9&lblank; grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeming lust; &lblank;] Summer-seeming has no manner of sense: correct: Than summer-teeming lust; &lblank; i. e. the passion that lasts no longer than the heat of life, and which goes off in the winter of age. Warburton. Wen I was younger and bolder, I corrected it thus: Than sume, or seething lust. that is, Than angry passion, or boiling lust. Johnson. Summer-seeming lust, is, I suppose, lust that seems as hot as summer. Steevens.

Note return to page 1020 1&lblank; foysons &lblank;] Plenty. Pope. It means provisions in plenty. So, Puttenham, in his Art of Poetry, 1589: “As the good seeds sowen in fruitful soil, “Bring forth foyson when barren doth them spoil.” Again, in the Ordinary by Cartwright: “New foysons byn ygraced with new titles.” The word was antiquated in the time of Cartwright, and is by him put into the mouth of an antiquary. It occurs again in Acolastus, a comedy, 1529:“—or that shall have money Goddis foyson.” i. e. money of God in plenty. Again, in Holinshed's Reign of K. Hen. VI. p. 1613: “&lblank; fifteene hundred men, and great foison of vittels.” Foison is pure French. Steevens.

Note return to page 1021 2All ready at a point, &lblank;] At a point, may mean all ready at a time; but Shakespeare meant more: He meant both time and place, and certainly wrote: All ready at appoint, &lblank; i. e. at the place appointed, at the rendezvous. Warburton. There is no need of change. Johnson.

Note return to page 1022 3&lblank; And the chance, of goodness, Be like our warranted quarrel! &lblank;] The chance of goodness, as it is commonly read, conveys no sense. If there be not some more important errour in the passage, it should at least be pointed thus: &lblank; and the chance, of goodness, Be like our warranted quarrel! &lblank; That is, may the event be, of the goodness of heaven, [pro justitia divina] answerable to the cause. The author of the Revisal conceives the sense of the passage to be rather this: And may the success of that goodness, which is about to exert itself in my behalf, be such as may be equal to the justice of my quarrel. But I am inclined to believe that Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; and the chance, O goodness, Be like our warranted quarrel! &lblank; This some of his transcribers wrote with a small o, which another imagined to mean of. If we adopt this reading, the sense will be: And O thou sovereign Goodness, to whom we now appeal, may our fortune answer to our cause. Johnson.

Note return to page 1023 4&lblank; convinces] i. e. overpowers, subdues. So, act I. sc. ult. Again, in The Trial of Treasure, an interlude, 1567: “The Lord will convince him for you in the end.” Again: “Come you to convince the mightiest conqueror?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1024 5&lblank; a golden stamp &c.] This was the coin called an angel. So, Shakespeare, in the Merchant of Venice: “A coin that bears the figure of an angel “Stamped in gold, but that's insculp'd upon.” The value of the coin was ten shillings. Steevens.

Note return to page 1025 6&lblank; and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. &lblank;] It must be own'd, that Shakespeare is often guilty of strange absurdities in point of history and chronology. Yet here he has artfully avoided one. He had a mind to hint, that the cure of the evil was to descend to the successors in the royal line in compliment to James the first. But the Confessor was the first who pretended to the gift: How then could it be at that time generally spoken of, that the gift was hereditary? this he has solved by telling us that Edward had the gift of prophecy along with it. Warburton. The ingenious editor of the Household Book of the Fifth Earl of Northumberland, very acutely observes on the subject of cramprings, “that the miraculous gift of curing the evil, was left to be claimed by the Stuarts: our ancient Plantagenets were humbly content to cure the cramp.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1026 7My countryman; but yet I know him not.] Malcolm discovers Rosse to be his countryman, while he is yet at some distance from him, by his dress. This circumstance loses its propriety on our stage, as all the characters are uniformly represented in English habits. Steevens.

Note return to page 1027 8&lblank; rent the air,] To rent is an ancient verb which has been long ago disused. So, in Cæsar and Pompey, 1607: “With rented hair and eyes besprent with tears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1028 9A modern ecstacy; &lblank;] That is, no more regarded than the contorsions that fanatics throw themselves into. The author was thinking of those of his own times. Warburton. I believe modern is only foolish or trifling. Johnson. Modern is generally used by Shakespeare to signify trite, common; as “modern instances,” in As you like It, &c. &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1029 1To doff their dire distresses.] To doff is to do off, to put off. So, in K. John: “Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,” Again, in the Honest Whore, 1635: “Come, you must doff this black.” Spenser frequently uses it. Steevens.

Note return to page 1030 2&lblank; should not catch them.] The folio reads, latch them, I believe rightly. To latch any thing, is to lay hold of it. So, in the prologue to Gower De Confessione Amantis, 1554: “Hereof for that thei wolden lache “With such duresse &c.” Again, b. i. fol 27: “When that he Galathe besought “Of love, which he maie not latche.” To latch, (in the North country dialect) signifies the same as to catch. Steevens.

Note return to page 1031 3&lblank; fee-grief,] A peculiar sorrow; a grief that hath a single owner. The expression is, at least to our ears, very harsh. Johnson. A similar expression is found in Heywood's Fair Maid of the Exchange, 1637: “But oh for shame that men should so arraign “Their own fee-simple wits for verbal theft.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0567

Note return to page 1032 4Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer] Quarry is a term used both in hunting and falconry. In both sports it means either the game that is pursued, or the game after it is killed. So, in Massinger's Guardian: “&lblank; he strikes “The trembling bird, who ev'n in death appears “Proud to be made his quarry.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1033 5&lblank; ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;] The same thought occurs in the ancient ballad of Northumberland Betrayed by Douglas: “He pulled his hatt over his browe, “And in his heart he was full woe, &c.” Again: “Jamey his hatt pull'd over his brow, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1034 6&lblank; the grief, that does not speak,] So, in Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “Those are the killing griefs, which dare not speak.” “Curæ leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1035 7He has no children. &lblank;] It has been observed by an anonymous critic, that this is not said of Macbeth, who had children, but of Malcolm, who having none, supposes a father can be so easily comforted. Johnson. He has no children. &lblank;] The meaning of this may be, either that Macduff could not by retaliation revenge the murder of his children, because Macbeth had none himself; or that if he had had any, a father's feelings for a father, would have prevented him from the deed. I know not from what passage we are to infer that Macbeth had children alive. The Chronicle does not, as I remember, mention any. The same thought occurs again in K. John: “He talks to me that never had a son.” Again, in K. Hen. VI. P. III: “You have no children: butchers, if you had, “The thought of them would have stir'd up remorse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1036 8At one fell swoop?] Swoop is the descent of a bird of prey on his quarry. So, in the White Devil, 1612: “That she may take away all at one swoop.” Again, in the Beggar's Bush, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; no star prosperous! “All at a swoop.” It is frequently, however, used by Drayton in his Polyolbion, to express the swift descent of rivers. Steevens.

Note return to page 1037 9Dispute it like a man.] i. e. contend with your present sorrow like a man. So, in Twelfth Night, act IV. sc. iii: “For though my soul disputes well with my sense, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1038 1Cut short all intermission; &lblank;] i. e. all pause, all intervening time. So, in K. Lear: “Delivered letters, spight of intermission.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1039 2This tune &lblank;] The folio reads: This time. Tune is Rowe's emendation. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0569

Note return to page 1040 3Put on their instruments. &lblank;] i. e. encourage, thrust forward us their instruments against the tyrant. Steevens.

Note return to page 1041 4Yet here's a spot.] A passage somewhat similar occurs in Webster's Vittoria Corrombona, &c. 1612: “&lblank; Here's a white hand! “Can blood so soon be wash'd out?” Webster's play was published in 1612. Shakespeare's in 1623. Steevens.

Note return to page 1042 5&lblank; Hell is murky! &lblank;] Lady Macbeth is acting over, in a dream, the business of the murder of Duncan, and encouraging her husband as when awake. She therefore, would not have even hinted the terrors of hell to one whose conscience she saw was too much alarmed already for her purpose. She certainly imagines herself here talking to Macbeth, who (she supposes) has just said, Hell is murky, (i. e. hell is a dismal place to go to in consequence of such a deed) and repeats his words in contempt of his cowardice. Hell is murky! &lblank; Fie, fie my lord, fie! a soldier, and afraid? This explanation, I think, gives a spirit to the passage, which has hitherto appeared languid, being perhaps misapprehended by those who placed a full point at the conclusion of it. Steevens.

Note return to page 1043 6My mind she has mated, &lblank;] Conquer'd or subdued. Pope. Rather astonished, confounded. Johnson. The expression is taken from chess-playing: “&lblank; that so young a warrior “Should bide the shock of such approved knights, “As he this day hath match'd and mated too.” Soliman and Perseda. “&lblank; woman, “Worse than Medusa, mateth all our minds.” Orlando Furioso, 1599. “Not mad but mated.” Com. of Errors. Steevens.

Note return to page 1044 7His uncle Siward, &lblank;] “Duncan had two sons (says Holinshed) by his wife, who as [Subnote: for, as, read, was.] the daughter of Siward, earl of Northumberland.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1045 8Excite the mortified man.] Mr. Theobald will needs explain this expression. “It means (says he) the man who has abandoned himself to despair, who has no spirit or resolution left.” And to support this sense of mortified man, he quotes mortified spirit in another place. But if this was the meaning, Shakespeare had not wrote the mortified man, but a mortified man. In a word, by the mortified man, is meant a religious; one who has subdued his passions, is dead to the world, has abandoned it, and all the affairs of it: an Ascetic. Warburton. So, in Monsieur D'Olive, 1606: “He like a mortified hermit sits.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “I perceived in the words of the hermit the perfect idea of a mortified man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1046 9&lblank; unrough youths, &lblank;] An odd expression. It means smooth-fac'd, unbearded. Steevens.

Note return to page 1047 1When all that is within him does condemn Itself, for being there?] That is, when all the faculties of the mind are employed in self-condemnation. Johnson.

Note return to page 1048 2&lblank; the medecin &lblank;] i. e. physician. Shakespeare uses this word in the feminine gender where Lafeu speaks of Helen in All's Well that Ends Well; and Florizel, in the Winter's Tale, calls Camillo “the medicin of our house. Steevens.

Note return to page 1049 3To dew the sovereign flower, &c.] This uncommon verb occurs in Look about You, 1600: “Dewing your princely hand with pity's tears.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iv. c. 8: “Dew'd with her drops of bounty soveraine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1050 4Bring me no more reports, &c.] Tell me not any more of desertions—Let all my subjects leave me—I am safe till, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 1051 5&lblank; have pronounc'd me thus:] So the old copy. The modern editors, for the sake of metre, read:—have pronounc'd it. Steevens.

Note return to page 1052 6&lblank; English epicures:] The reproach of epicurism, on which Mr. Theobald has bestowed a note, is nothing more than a natural invective uttered by an inhabitant of a barren country, against those who have more opportunities of luxury. Johnson. Shakespeare took the thought from Holinshed, p. 180, of his History of Scotland: “For manie of the people abhorring the riotous manners and superfluous gormandizing brought in among them by the Englyshemen, were willing inough to receive this Donald for their king, trusting (because he had beene brought up in the Isles, with the old customes and manners of their antient nation, without tast of English likerous delicats), &c.” The same historian informs us, that in those ages the Scots eat but once a day, and even then very sparingly. It appears from Dr. Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland, that the natives had neither kail nor brogues, till they were taught the arts of planting the one, and making the other, by the soldiers of Cromwell; and yet K. James VI. in his 7th parliament thought it necessary to form an act “against superfluous banqueting.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1053 7Shall never sagg with doubt, &lblank;] To sagg is to fluctuate, to waver. So, in the 16th song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “This said, the aged Street sag'd sadly on alone.” Drayton is speaking of a river. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0570 To sag, or swag, is to sink down by its own weight, or by an overload. See Junius's Etymologicon. It is common in Staffordshire to say, “a beam in a building sags, or has sagged.” Tollet.

Note return to page 1054 8&lblank; loon!] At present this word is only used in Scotland, and signifies a base fellow. So, in Marlowe's tragedy of K. Edw. II. 1622: “For shame subscribe, and let the lowne depart.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, second part, 1630: “The sturdy beggar, and the lazy lowne.” K. Stephen, in the old song, called his taylor, Loon. Steevens.

Note return to page 1055 9&lblank; lilly-liver'd boy. &lblank;] Chapman thus translates a passage in the 20th Iliad: “&lblank; his sword that made a vent for his white liver's blood, “That caus'd such pitiful effects &lblank;” Again, Falstaff says, in the second part of K. Hen. IV: “&lblank; left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1056 1&lblank; patch?] An appellation of contempt, alluding to the py'd, patch'd, or particoloured coats anciently worn by the fools belonging to noble families. Steevens.

Note return to page 1057 2&lblank; those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. &lblank;] The meaning is, they infect others who see them, with cowardice. Warburton.

Note return to page 1058 3&lblank; or disseat me now.] The old copy reads disseat, which is certainly right, though modern editors have substituted disease in its room. The word disseat occurs in the Two Noble Kinsmen by Beaumont, Fletcher, and Shakespeare, scene the last, where Perithous is describing the fall of Arcite from his horse: “&lblank; seeks all foul means “Of boisterous and rough jadry, to disseat “His lord that kept it bravely.” Dr. Percy would read: “Will chair me ever, or disseat me now.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1059 4&lblank; my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, &lblank;] As there is no relation between the way of life, and fallen into the sear, I am inclined to think that the W is only an M inverted, and that it was originally written: &lblank; my May of life. I am now passed from the spring to the autumn of my days, but I am without those comforts that should succeed the spriteliness of bloom, and support me in this melancholy season. The author has May in the same sense elsewhere. Johnson. &lblank; my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, &lblank;] An anonymous would have it: &lblank; my May of life: But he did not consider that Macbeth is not here speaking of his rule or government, or of any sudden change; but of the gradual decline of life, as appears from this line: And that, which should accompany old age. And way is used for course, progress. Warburton. To confirm the justness of May of life for way of life, Mr. Colman quotes from Much-ado about Nothing: “May of youth and bloom of lustyhood.” And Hen V. “My puissant liege is in the very May-morn of his youth.” Langton. So, in Sidney's Astrophil and Stella, stanza 21: “If now the May of my years much decline.” Again, in The Spanish Curate of Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; you met me “With equal ardour in your May of blood.” Again, in The Guardian of Massinger: “I am in the May of my abilities, “And you in your December.” Again, in Claudius Tiberius Nero, 1607: “Had I, in this fair May of all my glory, &c.” Again, in The Sea Voyage, by B. and Fletcher: “And in their May of youth, &c.” Again, in King John and Matilda, by R. Davenport, 1655: “Thou art yet in thy green May, twenty seven summers, &c.” Again, in the Renegado of Massinger: “Having my heat and May of youth, to plead “In my excuse.” Steevens. Perhaps the old reading may be justified by the following passage in the second part of Marston's Antonio and Mellida; in which the expression seems to have a meaning that would suit here, though it is not easy to ascertain with precision the true import of it: “My very selfe am gone: my way is fled; “My all is lost, if Mellida be dead.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0572

Note return to page 1060 5&lblank; the sear, &lblank;] Sear is dry. So, in B. and Fletcher's Monsieur Thomas, 1639: “&lblank; sear winter “Hath seal'd that sap up.” Shakespeare has the same thought in his 73d sonnet: “That time of year thou may'st in me behold, “When yellow leaves &c.” And Milton has—“Ivy never sear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1061 6&lblank; skirr the country round;] To skirr, I believe, signifies to scour, to ride hastily. The word is used by Beaumont and Fletcher in the Martial Maid: “Whilst I, with this and this, well mounted, skirr'd “A horse troop, through and through, &c.” Again, in Henry V: “And make them skir away, as swift as stones “Enforced from the old Assyrian slings.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's Bonduca: “&lblank; the light shadows, “That, in a thought, scur o'er the fields of corn, “Halted on crutches to them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1062 7Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff,] Stuff'd is the reading of the old copy; but for the sake of the ear, which must be shocked by the recurrence of so harsh a word, I am willing to read, foul, as there is authority for the change from Shakespeare himself, As you like it, act II. sc. vi: Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world. Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0575

Note return to page 1063 8&lblank; cast The water of my land, &lblank;] To cast the water was the phrase in use for finding out disorders by the inspection of urine. So, in Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel by John Hinde, 1606: “Lucilla perceiving, without casting her water, where she was pained, &c.” Again, in The Wise Woman of Hogsdon, 1638: “Mother Nottingham, for her time, was pretty well skilled in casting waters.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1064 *&lblank; senna, &lblank;] The old copy reads—cyme. Steevens.

Note return to page 1065 9&lblank; but the confident tyrant] We must surely read: &lblank; the confin'd tyrant. Warburton. He was confident of success; so confident that he would not fly, but endure their setting down before his castle. Johnson.

Note return to page 1066 1For where there is advantage to be given, Both more and less have given him the revolt;] The impropriety of the expression, advantage to be given, instead of advantage given, and the disagreeable repetition of the word given in the next line, incline me to read: &lblank; where there is a 'vantage to be gone, Both more and less have given him the revolt. Advantage or 'vantage, in the time of Shakespeare, signified opportunity. He shut up himself and his soldiers, (says Malcolm) in the castle, because when there is an opportunity to be gone, they all desert him. More and less is the same with greater and less. So, in the interpolated Mandeville, a book of that age, there is a chapter of India the More and the Less. Johnson. I would read, if any alteration were necessary: For where there is advantage to be got. But the words as they stand in the text, will bear Dr. Johnson's explanation, which is most certainly right.—“For wherever an opportunity of flight is given them &c.” More and less, for greater and less, is likewise found in Chaucer: “From Boloigne is the erle of Pavie come, “Of which the fame yspronge to most and leste.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song the 12th: “Of Britain's forests all from th' less unto the more.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. v. c. 8: “&lblank; all other weapons lesse or more, “Which warlike uses had devis'd of yore.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1067 2What we shall say we have, and what we owe.] i. e. property and allegiance. Warburton. What we shall say we have, and what we owe.] When we are governed by legal kings, we shall know the limits of their claim, i. e. shall know what we have of our own, and what they have a right to take from us. Steevens.

Note return to page 1068 3&lblank; arbitrate:] i. e. determine. Johnson. So, in the 18th Odyssey translated by Chapman: “&lblank; straight “Can arbitrate a war of deadliest weight.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1069 4&lblank; fell of hair] My hairy part, my capillitium. Fell is skin. Johnson. So, in Alphonsus Emperor of Germany: “&lblank; Where the lyon's hide is thin and scant, “I'll firmly patch it with the fox's fell.” So, again, in K. Lear: “The goujeres shall devour them flesh and fell.” A dealer in hides is still called a fell-monger. Steevens.

Note return to page 1070 5&lblank; I have supt full with horrors;] The Oxford editor alters this to, &lblank; surfeited with horrors; and so, for the sake of a politer phrase, has made the speaker talk absurdly. For the thing we surfeit of, we behold with uneasiness and abhorrence. But the speaker says, the things he supt full of, were grown familiar to him, and he viewed them without emotion. Warburton. Statius has a similar thought in the second book of his Thebais: “&lblank; attollit membra, toroque, “Erigitur plenus monstris, vanumque cruorem “Excutiens.” The conclusion of this passage, may remind the reader of lady Macbeth's behaviour in her sleep. Steevens.

Note return to page 1071 6She should have dy'd hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. &lblank;] This passage has very justly been suspected of being corrupt. It is not apparent for what word there would have been a time, and that there would or would not be a time for any word seems not a consideration of importance sufficient to transport Macbeth into the following exclamation. I read therefore: She should have dy'd hereafter. There would have been a time for—such a world! &lblank; To-morrow, &c. It is a broken speech, in which only part of the thought is expressed, and may be paraphrased thus: The queen is dead. Macbeth. Her death should have been deferred to some more peaceful hour; had she liv'd longer, there would at length have been a time for the honours due to her as a queen, and that respect which I owe her for her fidelity and love. Such is the world—such is the condition of human life, that we always think to-morrow will be happier than to-day, but to-morrow and to-morrow steals over us unenjoyed and unregarded, and we still linger in the same expectation to the moment appointed for our end. All these days, which have thus passed away, have sent multitudes of fools to the grave, who were engrossed by the same dream of future felicity, and, when life was departing from them, were, like me, reckoning on to-morrow. Such was once my conjecture, but I am now less confident. Macbeth might mean, that there would have been a more convenient time for such a word, for such intelligence, and so fall into the following reflection. We say we send word when we give intelligence. Johnson.

Note return to page 1072 7To the last syllable of recorded time;] Recorded time seems to signify the time fixed in the decrees of Heaven for the period of life. The record of futurity is indeed no accurate expression, but as we only know transactions past or present, the language of men affords no term for the volumes of prescience in which future events may be supposed to be written. Johnson. So, in All's Well that Ends Well: “To the utmost syllable of your worthiness.” Recorded is probably here used for recording or recordable; one participle for the other, of which there are many instances both in Shakespeare and other English writers. Virgil uses penetrabile frigus for penetrans frigus, and penetrabile telum for telum penetrans. Steevens.

Note return to page 1073 8The way to dusty death. &lblank;] We should read dusky, as appears from the figurative term lighted. The Oxford editor has condescended to approve of it. Warburton. Dusty is a very natural epithet. The second folio has: The way to study death. &lblank; which Mr. Upton prefers, but it is only an errour by an accidental transposition of the types. Johnson. The dust of death is an expression used in the 22d Psalm. Dusty death alludes to the expression of dust to dust in the burial service, and to the sentence pronounced against Adam: “Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return.”—Shakespeare, however, in the first act of this play, speaks of the thane of Cawdor, as of one “&lblank; who had been studied in his death.” Steevens. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0576

Note return to page 1074 9'Till famine cling thee: &lblank;] Clung, in the northern counties, signifies any thing that is shrivelled or shrunk up. By famine, the intestines are, as it were, stuck together. In the Roman Actor by Massinger, the same word, though differently spelt, appears to be used: “&lblank; my entrails “Are clamm'd with keeping a continual fast.” [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0577 To cling likewise signifies, to gripe, to compress, to embrace. So, in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1607: “&lblank; slide from the mother, “And cling the daughter.” Again, in Antonio's Revenge, 1602: “And found even cling'd in sensuality.” Again, in Northward Hoe, 1607: “I will never see a white flea before I will cling you.” Ben Jonson uses the word clem in the Poetaster, act I. sc. ii: “I cannot eat stones and turfs; say, what will he clem me and my followers? ask him an he will clem me.” To be clem'd is a Staffordshire expression, which means, to be starved: and there is likewise a Cheshire proverb: “You been like Smithwick, either clem'd or bursten.” Again, in Antonio and Mellida: “Now lions' half-clem'd entrails roar for food.” In the following instances, the exact meaning of this word is not very clear: “Andrea slain! then weapon cling my breast.” First part of Jeronimo, 1605. “Although my conscience hath my courage cleng'd, “And knows what valour was employ'd in vain.” Lord Sterline's Darius, 1603. Again, in the Sadler's Play, among the Chester Whitsun plays, MS. Harl. 1013, p. 154, where the burial of our Saviour is spoken of: “That now is clongen under clay.” I have given these varieties of the word for the sake of any future lexicographer, or commentator on ancient authors. Steevens.

Note return to page 1075 1I pull in resolution; and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth: &lblank;] Though this is the reading of all the editions, yet, as it is a phrase without either example, elegance, or propriety, it is surely better to read: I pall in resolution, &lblank; I languish in my constancy, my confidence begins to forsake me. It is scarcely necessary to observe how easily pall might be changed into pull by a negligent writer, or mistaken for it by an unskilful printer. With this emendation Dr. Warburton and Mr. Heath concur. Johnson. There is surely no need of change; for Shakespeare, who made Trinculo, in the Tempest, say: “I will let loose my opinion.” might have written: I pull in my resolution. He had permitted his courage (like a fiery horse) to carry him to the brink of a precipice, but, seeing his danger, resolves to check that confidence to which he had given the rein before. Steevens.

Note return to page 1076 2&lblank; I must fight the course. &lblank;] A phrase taken from bear-baiting. So, in The Antipodes, by Brome, 1638: “Also you shall see two ten-dog courses at the great bear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1077 3Seems bruited: &lblank;] From bruit. Fr. To bruit is to report with clamour; to noise. So, in K. Hen. IV. P. II: “&lblank; his death “Being bruited once &c.” Again, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; I am not “One that rejoices in the common wreck, “As common bruit doth put it.” Again, in Acolastus, a comedy 1529: “Lais was one of the most bruited common women that clerkes do write of.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1078 4As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air] That is, air which cannot be cut. Johnson. As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: So, Milton, Paradise Lost, b. vi: “Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound “Receive, no more than can the fluid air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1079 5I bear a charmed life, &lblank;] In the days of chivalry, the champion's arms being ceremoniously blessed, each took an oath that he used no charmed weapons. Macbeth, according to the law of arms, or perhaps only in allusion to this custom, tells Macduff of the security he had in the prediction of the spirit. To this likewise Posthumus alludes in Cymbeline, act V: “&lblank; I in my own woe charm'd “Could not find death.” Upton. So, in the Dumb Knight, 1633, by L. Machin: “Here you shall swear by hope, by heaven, by Jove, “And by the right you challenge in true fame, “That here you stand, not arm'd with any guile, “Of philters, charms, of night-spells, characters, “Or other black infernal vantages &c.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. i. c. 4: “&lblank; he bears a charmed shield, “And eke enchaunted arms that none may pierce.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1080 6&lblank; palter with us in a double sense;] That shuffle with ambiguous expressions. Johnson. So, in Marius and Sylla, 1594: “Now fortune, frown and palter if thou please.” Again, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; Romans that have spoke the word, “And will not palter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1081 7&lblank; Hold, enough.] See Mr. Tollet's note on the words, “To cry, hold! hold!” act I. sc. v. Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, one of the combatants was an esquire, and knighted after the battle, which the king terminated by crying Hoo, i. e. hold. Steevens. “To cry hold, is the word of yielding,” says Carew's Survey of Cornwall, p. 74, i. e. when one of the combatants cries so. Tollet.

Note return to page 1082 8Re-enter &lblank;] This stage-direction is taken from the folio, and proves, that the players were not even skilful enough to prevent impropriety in those circumstances, which fell immediately under their own care. Macbeth is here killed on the stage, and a moment after Macduff enters, as from another place, with his head on a spear. Of the propriety of ancient stage directions, the following is no bad specimen: “Enter Sybilla lying in childbed, with her child lying by her, and her nurse, &c.” Heywood's Golden Age, 1611. Steevens.

Note return to page 1083 9Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll'd.] This incident is thus related from Henry of Huntingdon by Camden in his Remains, from which our author probably copied it. When Siward, the martial earl of Northumberland, understood that his son, whom he had sent in service against the Scotchmen, was slain, he demanded whether his wounds were in the fore part or hinder part of his body. When it was answered, in the fore part, he replied, “I am right glad; neither wish I any other death to me or mine.” Johnson.

Note return to page 1084 1&lblank; thy kingdom's pearl,] Whether this is a metaphorical expression, or only a blunder of the press, I cannot determine. Mr. Rowe first made the alteration, which has been continued by succeeding editors, who read, peers. The following passage from Ben Jonson's Entertainment of the Queen and Prince at Althorpe, may countenance the old reading, which I have inserted in the text: “Queen, prince, duke, and earls, “Countesses, ye courtly pearls, &c.” Again, in Shirley's Gentleman of Venice: “&lblank; he is the very pearl “Of courtesy.” &lblank; Steevens. Thy kingdom's pearl is a phrase of the same import with thy kingdom's wealth. So, C. Fitz-Jeffrey, cited in England's Parnassus, 1600, calls Homer: “Chief grace of Greece, best pearle of poetry.” So, again, J. Sylvester, quoted in the same book: “&lblank; peace, “Honour of cities, pearle of kingdoms all.” Again, in Endymion's Song and Tragedy, 1606: “&lblank; an earl, “And worthily then termed Albion's pearl.” Malone. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0579

Note return to page 1085 It may be worth while to remark, that Milton, who left behind him a list of no less than CII. dramatic subjects, had fixed on the story of this play among the rest. His intention was to have begun with the arrival of Malcolm at Macduff's castle. “The matter of Duncan (says he) may be expressed by the appearing of his ghost.” It should seem from this last memorandum, that Milton disliked the licence that his predecessor had taken in comprehending a history of such length within the short compass of a play, and would have new-written the whole on the plan of the ancient drama. He could not surely have indulged so vain a hope, as that of excelling Shakespeare in the Tragedy of Macbeth. Steevens. Macbeth was certainly one of Shakespeare's latest productions, and it might possibly have been suggested to him by a little performance on the same subject at Oxford, before king James, 1605. I will transcribe my notice of it from Wake's Rex Platonicus: “Fabulæ ansam dedit antiqua de Regiâ prosapiâ historiola apud Scoto-Britannos celebrata, quæ narrat tres olim Sibyllas occurrisse duobus Scotiæ proceribus, Macbetho & Banchoni, & illum prædixisse Regem futurum, sed Regem nullum geniturum; hunc Regem non futurum, sed Reges geniturum multos. Vaticinii veritatem rerum eventus comprobavit. Banchonis enim è stirpe Potentissimus Jacobus oriundus.” p. 29. Since I made the observation here quoted, I have been repeatedly told, that I unwittingly make Shakespeare learned at least in Latin, as this must have been the language of the performance before king James. One might perhaps have plausibly said, that he probably picked up the story at second-hand: but mere accident has thrown an old pamphlet in my way, intitled The Oxford Triumph, by one Anthony Nixon, 1605, which explains the whole matter: “This performance, says Anthony, was first in Latine to the king, then in English to the queene and young prince;” and, as he goes on to tell us, “the conceipt thereof, the kinge did very much applaude.” It is likely that the friendly letter, which we are informed king James once wrote to Shakespeare, was on this occasion. Farmer. This play is deservedly celebrated for the propriety of its fictions, and solemnity, grandeur, and variety of its action, but it has no nice discriminations of character; the events are too great to admit the influence of particular dispositions, and the course of the action necessarily determines the conduct of the agents. The danger of ambition is well described; and I know not whether it may not be said in defence of some parts which now seem improbable, that, in Shakespeare's time, it was necessary to warn credulity against vain and illusive predictions. The passions are directed to their true end. Lady Macbeth is merely detested; and though the courage of Macbeth preserves some esteem, yet every reader rejoices at his fall. Johnson.

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