Note return to page 1 1Pembroke,] Earl of Pembroke, William Mareshall.

Note return to page 2 2Essex,] Earl of Essex, Jeffrey Fitzpeter, Ch. J. of England.

Note return to page 3 3Salisbury,] Earl of Salisbury, William Longsword, son to Hen. II. by Rosamond Clifford.

Note return to page 4 4Bigot,] Roger, earl of Norfolk and Suffolk. Steevens.

Note return to page 5 5The Troublesome Reign of King John was written in two parts, by W. Shakespeare and W. Rowley, and printed 1611. But the present play is intirely different, and infinitely superior to it. Pope. The edition of 1611 has no mention of Rowley, nor in the account of Rowley's works is any mention made of his conjunction with Shakespeare in any play. King John was reprinted in two parts in 1622. The first edition that I have found of this play in its present form, is that of 1623, in fol. The edition of 1591 I have not seen. Johnson. Dr. Johnson mistakes when he says there is no mention in Rowley's works of any conjunction with Shakespeare: the Birth of Merlin is ascribed to them jointly; though I cannot believe Shakespeare had any thing to do with it. Mr. Capell is equally mistaken when he says (pref. p. 15.) that Rowley is called his partner in the title-page of the Merry Devil of Edmonton. There must have been some tradition, however erroneous, upon which Mr. Pope's account was founded; I make no doubt that Rowley wrote the first King John: and when Shakespeare's play was called for, and could not be procured from the players, a piratical bookseller reprinted the old one, with W. Sh. in the title-page. Farmer.9Q0580 Hall, Holinshed, Stowe, &c. are closely followed not only in the conduct, but sometimes in the expressions throughout the following historical dramas; viz. Macbeth, this play, Richard II. Henry IV. 2 parts, Henry V. Henry VI. 3 parts, Richard III. and Henry VIII. “A booke called The Hystorie of Lord Faulconbridge, bastard Son to Richard Cordelion,” was entered at Stationers' Hall, Nov. 29. 1614; but I have never met with it, and therefore know not whether it was the old black letter history, or a play on the same subject. For the original K. John, see Six old Plays on which Shakespeare founded &c. published by S. Leacroft, Charing-Cross. Steevens. Though this play hath the title of The Life and Death of King John, yet the action of it begins at the thirty-fourth year of his life; and takes in only some transactions of his reign at the time of his demise, being an interval of about seventeen years. Theobald.

Note return to page 6 6In my behaviour, &lblank;] The word behaviour seems here to have a signification that I have never found in any other author. The king of France, says the envoy, thus speaks in my behaviour to the majesty of England; that is, the king of France speaks in the character which I here assume. I once thought that these two lines, in my behaviour, &c. had been uttered by the ambassador as part of his master's message, and that behaviour had meant the conduct of the king of France towards the king of England; but the ambassador's speech, as continued after the interruption, will not admit this meaning. Johnson.

Note return to page 7 7&lblank; controul &lblank;]Opposition, from controller. Johnson.

Note return to page 8 8Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, Controulment for controulment; &c.] King John's reception of Chatillon not a little resembles that which Andrea meets with from the king of Portugal in the first part of Jeronimo &c. 1605: “And. Thou shalt pay tribute, Portugal, with blood. &lblank; “Bal. Tribute for tribute then; and foes for foes. “And. —I bid you sudden wars.” Steevens.

Note return to page 9 9Be thou as lightning &lblank;] The simile does not suit well: the lightning indeed appears before the thunder is heard, but the lightning is destructive, and the thunder innocent. Johnson.

Note return to page 10 1&lblank; sullen presage &lblank;] By the epithet sullen, which cannot be applied to a trumpet, it is plain that our author's imagination had now suggested a new idea. It is as if he had said, be a trumpet to alarm with our invasion, be a bird of ill omen to croak out the prognostick of your own ruin. Johnson.9Q0581

Note return to page 11 2&lblank; the manage &lblank;] i. e. conduct, administration. So, in K. Rich. II: “&lblank; for the rebels “Expedient manage must be made, my liege.” Steevens.

Note return to page 12 3Enter the sheriff of Northamptonshire, &c.] This stage direction I have taken from the old quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 13 4&lblank; and Philip, his brother.] Though Shakespeare adopted this character of Philip Faulconbridge from the old play, it is not improper to mention that it is compounded of two distinct personages. Matthew Paris says:—“Sub illius temporis curriculo, Falcasius de Brente, Neusteriensis, et spurius ex parte matris, atque Bastardus, qui in vili jumento manticato ad Regis paulo ante clientelam descenderat, &c.” Matt. Paris, in his History of the Monks of St. Albans, calls him Falco, but in his General History, Falcasius de Brente, as above. Holinshed says, “that Richard I. had a natural son named Philip, who in the year following killed the viscount De Limoges to revenge the death of his father.” Steevens.

Note return to page 14 5But for the certain knowledge of that truth, I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother; Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.] The resemblance between this sentiment and that of Telemachus in the first book of the Odyssey, is apparent. The passage is thus translated by Chapman: “My mother, certaine, sayes I am his sonne; “I know not; nor was ever simply knowne, “By any child, the sure truth of his fire.” Mr. Pope has observed that the like sentiment is found in Euripides, Menander, and Aristotle. Shakespeare expresses the same doubt in several of his other plays. Steevens.

Note return to page 15 6He hath a trick of Cœur-de-lion's face,] The trick, or tricking, is the same as the tracing of a drawing, meaning that peculiarity of face which may be sufficiently shewn by the slightest outline. This expression is used by Heywood and Rowley in their comedy called Fortune by Land and Sea:—“Her face, the trick of her eye, her leer.” The following passages may more evidently prove the expression to be borrowed from delineation. Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “&lblank; You can blazon the rest, Signior? “O ay, I have it in writing here o' purpose; it cost me two shillings the tricking.” So again, in Cynthia's Revels: “&lblank; the parish-buckets with his name at length trick'd upon them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 16 7With half that face &lblank;] But why with half that face? There is no question but the poet wrote, as I have restored the text: With that half-face—Mr. Pope, perhaps, will be angry with me for discovering an anachronism of our poet's in the next line, where he alludes to a coin not struck till the year 1504, in the reign of king Henry VII. viz. a groat, which, as well as the half groat, bare but half faces impressed. Vide Stow's Survey of London, p. 47. Holinshed, Camden's Remains, &c. The poet sneers at the meagre sharp visage of the elder brother, by comparing him to a silver groat, that bore the king's face in profile, so shewed but half the face: the groats of all our kings of England, and indeed all their other coins of silver, one or two only excepted, had a full face crowned; till Henry VII. at the time above-mentioned, coined groats and half-groats, as also some shillings, with half faces, i. e. faces in profile, as all our coin has now. The first groats of king Henry VIII. were like those of his father; though afterwards he returned to the broad faces again. These groats, with the impression in profile, are undoubtedly here alluded to: though, as I said, the poet is knowingly guilty of an anachronism in it: for in the time of king John there were no groats at all; they being first, as far as appears, coined in the reign of king Edward III. Theobald. The same contemptuous allusion occurs in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chitty-face.” Again, in Histriomastix, 1610: “Whilst I behold yon half-fac'd minion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 17 8This concludes &lblank;] This is a decisive argument. As your father, if he liked him, could not have been forced to resign him, so, not liking him, he is not at liberty to reject him. Johnson.

Note return to page 18 9Lord of thy presence, and no land beside?] Lord of thy presence can signify only, master of thyself; and it is a strange expression to signify even that. However that he might be, without parting with his land. We should read: Lord of the presence, i. e. prince of the blood. Warburton. Lord of thy presence may signify something more distinct than master of thyself: it means master of that dignity and grandeur of appearance that may sufficiently distinguish thee from the vulgar, without the help of fortune. Lord of his presence apparently signifies, great in his own person, and is used in this sense by king John in one of the following scenes. Johnson.

Note return to page 19 1And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him;] This is obscure and ill expressed. The meaning is: If I had his shape—sir Robert's— as he has. Sir Robert his, for sir Robert's, is agreeable to the practice of that time, when the 's added to the nominative was believed, I think erroneously, to be a contraction of his. So, Donne: “&lblank; Who now lives to age, “Fit to be call'd Methusalem his page?” Johnson.

Note return to page 20 2&lblank; my face so thin, That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose, Lest men should say, Look, where three-farthings goes!] In this very obscure passage our poet is anticipating the date of another coin; humorously to rally a thin face, eclipsed, as it were, by a full-blown rose. We must observe, to explain this allusion, that queen Elizabeth was the first, and indeed the only prince, who coined in England three-half-pence, and three-farthing pieces. She at one and the same time coined shillings, six-pences, groats, three-pences, two-pences, tree-half-pence, pence, three-farthings, and half-pence. And these pieces all had her head, and were alternately with the rose behind, and without the rose. The shilling, groat, two-pence, penny, and half-penny had it not: the other intermediate coins, viz. the six-pence, three-pence, three-half-pence, and three-farthings had the rose. Theobald.9Q0583 So, in The Shoemaker's Holiday, &c. 1610: “Here's a three-penny piece for thy tidings.” “Firk. 'Tis but three-half-pence I think: yes, 'tis three-pence; I smell the rose.” Steevens. As we are on the subject of coinage, it may be observed that the following passage in Ben Jonson's Devil is an Ass, remains unexplained: “I will not bate a Harrington o'th' sum.” Lord Harrington obtained a patent from K. James I. for making brass farthings. See a Historical Narration of the First 14 Years of K. James I. p. 56. Tollet. The same term occurs in Ben Jonson's Magnetic Lady: “They shall ne'er be a Harrington the better for't.” Steevens.

Note return to page 21 3That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,] The sticking roses about them was then all the court-fashion, as appears from this passage of the Confession Catholique du S. de Sancy, l. ii. c. 1: “Je luy ay appris à mettre des roses par tous les coins,” i. e. in every place about him, says the speaker, of one to whom he had taught all the court-fashions. Warburton. These roses were, I believe, only roses composed of ribbands. In Marston's What you will is the following passage: “Dupatzo the elder brother, the fool, he that bought the half-penny ribband, wearing it in his ear, &c.” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “—This ribband in my ear, or so.” Again, in Love and Honour, by sir W. Davenant, 1649: “A lock on the left side, so rarely hung “With ribbanding, &c.” I think I remember, among Vandyck's pictures in the duke of Queensberry's collection at Ambrosbury, to have seen one with the lock nearest the ear ornamented with ribbands which terminate in roses; and Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, says, “that it was once the fashion to stick real flowers in the ear.” Steevens. Marston also in his Satires, 1599, alludes to this fashion as fantastical: “Castilios, Cyprians, court-boyes, Spanish blocks, “Ribanded eares, Grenada nether-stocks.” Again, in Epigrams by J. D. (perhaps John Davis) printed at Middleburgh, without date:   “Thou know'st I love thee, dear; “Yet for thy sake I will not bore mine ear, “To hang thy dirty silken shoe-tyes there.” Malone.

Note return to page 22 4&lblank; unto the death.] This expression is common among our ancient writers. So, in A Merye Jest of a Man called Howleglas, bl. l. no date: “Howleglas found a woulfe that was frozen to the deth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 23 5Madam, by chance, but not by truth: what though?] I am your grandson, madam, by chance, but not by honesty—what then? Johnson.

Note return to page 24 6Something about, a little from the right, &c.] This speech, composed of allusive and proverbial sentences, is obscure. I am, says the spritely knight, your grandson, a little irregularly, but every man cannot get what he wishes the legal way. He that dares not go about his designs by day, must make his motions in the night; he, to whom the door is shut, must climb the window, or leap the hatch. This, however, shall not depress me; for the world never enquires how any man got what he is known to possess, but allows that to have is to have however it was caught, and that he who wins, shot well, whatever was his skill, whether the arrow fell near the mark, or far off it. Johnson.

Note return to page 25 7In at the window, &c.] These expressions mean, to be born out of wedlock. So, in The Family of Love, 1608: “Woe worth the time that ever I gave suck to a child that came in at the window!” So, in Northward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “&lblank; kindred that comes in o'er the hatch, and sailing to Westminster, &c.” Such another phrase occurs in Any Thing for a quiet Life: “&lblank; then you keep children in the name of your own, which she suspects came not in at the right door.” Again, in The Witches of Lancashire, by Heywood and Broome, 1634: “—It appears then by your discourse that you came in at the window.” “I would not have you think I scorn my grannam's cat to leap over the hatch.” Again: “—to escape the dogs hath leap'd in at a window.” “—'Tis thought you came into the world that way. —Because you are a bastard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 26 8A foot of honour &lblank;] A step, un pas. Johnson.

Note return to page 27 9&lblank; sir Richard, &lblank;] Thus the old copy, and rightly. In act IV. Salisbury calls him sir Richard, and the king has just knighted him by that name. The modern editors arbitrarily read, sir Robert. Faulconbridge is now entertaining himself with ideas of greatness, suggested by his recent knighthood.—Good den, sir Richard, he supposes to be the salutation of a vassal, God-a-mercy, fellow, his own supercilious reply to it. Steevens.

Note return to page 28 1'Tis too respective, &c.] i. e. respectful. So, in the old comedy called Michaelmas Term, 1607: “Seem respective, to make his pride swell like a toad with dew.” So, in The Merchant of Venice, act V: “You should have been respective, &c.” Again, in The Case is alter'd, by Ben Jonson, 1609: “I pray you, sir; you are too respective, in good faith.” Steevens.

Note return to page 29 2For your conversing. &lblank;] The old copy reads conversion, which may be right; meaning his late change of condition from a private gentleman to a knight. Steevens.

Note return to page 30 3&lblank; Now your traveller, &lblank;] It is said in All's Well that ends Well, that “a traveller is a good thing after dinner.” In that age of newly excited curiosity, one of the entertainments at great tables seems to have been the discourse of a traveller. Johnson.

Note return to page 31 4He and his tooth-pick &lblank;] It has been already remarked, that to pick the tooth, and wear a piqued beard, were, in that time, marks of a man affecting foreign fashions. Johnson. Among Gascoigne's poems I find one entitled, Councell given to Maister Bartholomew Withipoll a little before his latter journey to Geane, 1572. The following lines may perhaps be acceptable to the reader who is curious enough to enquire about the fashionable follies imported in that age: “Now, sir, if I shall see your mastership “Come home disguis'd, and clad in quaint array; &lblank; “As with a pike-tooth byting on your lippe; “Your brave mustachio's turn'd the Turkie way; “A coptankt hat made on a Flemish blocke; “A night-gowne cloake down trayling to your toes; “A slender slop close couched to your dock; “A curtolde slipper, and a short silk hose, &c.” So, Fletcher: “You that trust in travel; “You that enchance the daily price of toothpicks.” Again, in Shirley's Grateful Servant, 1630: “I will continue my state-posture, use my toothpick with discretion, &c.” Again, in The Tragedy of Hoffman, 1631: “&lblank; this matter will trouble us more than all your poem on picktooths.” So, again, in Cinthia's Revels by Ben Jonson, 1601: “—A traveller, one so made out of the mixture and shreds and forms that himself is truly deformed. He walks most commonly with a clove or picktooth in his mouth.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Wild Goose Chase: “Their very pick-teeth speak more man than we do.” Again, in The Honest Man's Fortune by the same authors: “You have travell'd like a fidler, to make faces; and brought home nothing but a case of toothpicks.” Steevens.9Q0585

Note return to page 32 5My piked man of countries: &lblank;] The word piked may not refer to the beard, but to the shoes, which were once worn of an immoderate length. To this fashion our author has alluded in King Lear, where the reader will find a more ample explanation. Piked may, however, mean only spruce in dress. Chaucer says in one of his prologues:—“Fresh and new her geare ypiked was.” And in the Merchaunts Tale:—“He kempeth him, and proineth him, and piketh.” In Hyrd's translation of Vives's Instruction of a Christian Woman, printed in 1591, we meet with “picked and apparelled goodly—goodly and pickedly arrayed. —Licurgus, when he would have women of his country to be regarded by their virtue and not their ornaments, banished out of the country by the law, all painting, and commanded out of the town all crafty men of picking and apparelling.” Again, in a comedy called All Fools, by Chapman, 1602: “'Tis such a picked fellow, not a haire “About his whole bulk, but it stands in print.” Again, in Love's Labour Lost: “He is too piqued, too spruce, &c.” Again, in Greene's Defence of Coney-catching, 1592, in the description of a pretended traveller: “There be in England, especially about London, certain quaint, pickt, and neat companions, attired &c. alamode de France &c.” Again: “Straight after he hath bitten his peak by the end &c.” If a comma be placed after the word man:—“I catechize “My picked man, of countries.” the passage will seem to mean, “I catechise my selected man, about the countries through which he travelled.” Steevens.

Note return to page 33 6&lblank; like an ABC-book: &lblank;] An ABC-book, or, as they spoke and wrote it, an absey-book, is a catechism. Johnson. So, in the ancient Interlude of Youth, bl. l. no date: “In the A. B. C. of bokes the least, “Yt is written, deus charitas est.” Again, in Tho. Nash's dedication to Greene's Arcadia, 1616: “—make a patrimony of In speech, and more than a younger brother's inheritance of their Abcie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 34 7And so, e'er answer knows what question would, (Saving in dialogue of compliment;] In this fine speech, Faulconbridge would shew the advantages and prerogatives of men of worship. He observes, particularly, that he has the traveller at command (people at that time, when a new world was discovering, in the highest estimation). At the first intimation of his desire to hear strange stories, the traveller complies, and will scarce give him leave to make his question, but “e'er answer knows what question would”—What then, why, according to the present reading, it grows towards supper-time: and is “not this worshipful society?” To spend all the time between dinner and supper before either of them knows what the other would be at. Read serving instead of saving, and all this nonsense is avoided; and the account stands thus: “E'er answer knows what question would be at, my traveller serves in his dialogue of compliment, which is his standing dish at all tables; then he comes to talk of the Alps and Apennines, &c. and by the time this discourse concludes, it draws towards supper.” All this is sensible and humorous; and the phrase of serving in is a very pleasant one to denote that this was his worship's second course. What follows, shews the romantic turn of the voyagers of that time; how greedily their relations were swallowed, which he calls “sweet poison for the age's tooth;” and how acceptable it made men at court—“For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.” And yet the Oxford editor says, by this sweet poison is meant flattery. Warburton. This passage is obscure; but such an irregularity and perplexity runs through the whole speech, that I think this emendation not necessary. Johnson. Sir W. Cornwallis's 28th essay thus ridicules the extravagance of compliments in our poet's days, 1601: “We spend even at his (i. e. a friend's or a stranger's) entrance, a whole volume of words.—What a deal of synamon and ginger is sacrificed to dissimulation! Oh, how blessed do I take mine eyes for presenting me with this sight! O Signior, the star that governs my life in contentment, give me leave to interre myself in your arms!—Not so, sir, it is too unworthy an inclosure to contain such preciousness, &c. &c. This, and a cup of drink, makes the time as fit for a departure as can be.” Tollet.

Note return to page 35 8Which though &c.] The construction will be mended, if instead of which though, we read this though. Johnson.

Note return to page 36 9But who comes &c. &lblank;] Milton, in his tragedy, introduces Dalilah with such an interrogatory exclamation. Johnson.

Note return to page 37 1&lblank; to blow a horn &lblank;] He means, that a woman who travelled about like a post, was likely to horn her husband. Johnson.

Note return to page 38 2Colbrand &lblank;] Colbrand was a Danish giant, whom Guy of Warwick discomfited in the presence of king Athelstan. The combat is very pompously described by Drayton in his Polyolbion. Johnson.

Note return to page 39 3Good leave, &c.] Good leave means a ready assent. So, in K. Hen. VI. P. III. act III. sc. ii: “K. Edw. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit. “Glo. Ay, good leave have you, for you will have leave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 40 4Philip!—sparrow!—James,] I think the poet wrote: Philip! spare me, James, i. e. don't affront me with an appellation that comes from a family which I disdain. Warburton. The old reading is far more agreeable to the character of the speaker. Dr. Gray observes; that Skelton has a poem to the memory of Philip Sparrow; and Mr. Pope in a short note remarks that a Sparrow is called Philip. Johnson. Gascoigne has likewise a poem entitled, The Praise of Phil Sparrow; and in Jack Drum's Entertainment, 1601, is the following passage: “The birds sit chirping, chirping, &c.” “Philip is treading, treading, &c.” Again, in the Northern Lass, 1633: “A bird whose pastime made me glad,   “And Philip 'twas my sparrow.” Again, in Magnificence an ancient Interlude by Skelton, published by Rastell: “With me in kepynge such a Phylyp Sparowe.” Steevens. The following quotation seems to confirm Mr. Pope's explanation. In the Widow, see Dods. Old Plays, vol. VI. p. 38: “Phil. I would my letter, wench, were here again, “I'd know him wiser ere I sent him one; “And travel some five year first. “Viol. So he had need, methinks, “To understand the words; methinks the words “Themselves should make him do't, had he but the perseverance “Of a cock-sparrow that will come at, Philip, “And cannot write nor read, poor fool; this coxcomb, “He can do both, and your name's but Philippa, “And yet to see, if he can come when he's call'd.” The Bastard therefore means: Philip! Do you take me for a sparrow, James? Hawkins.

Note return to page 41 5There's toys abroad; &c.] i. e. rumours, idle reports. So, in B. Jonson's Sejanus:   —“Toys, mere toys, “What wisdom's in the streets.” So, in a postscript to a letter from the countess of Essex to Dr. Forman, in relation to the trial of Anne Turner for the murder of sir Tho. Overbury: “&lblank; they may tell my father and mother, and fill their ears full of toys.” State Trials, vol. I. p. 322. Steevens.

Note return to page 42 6&lblank; might have eat his part in me Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his fast:] This thought occurs in Heywood's Dialogues upon Proverbs, 1562: “&lblank; he may his parte on good fridaie eate, “And fast never the wurs, for ought he shall geate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 43 7Knight, knight, good mother,—Basilisco like:] Thus must this passage be pointed; and, to come at the humour of it, I must clear up an old circumstance of stage-history. Faulconbridge's words here carry a concealed piece of satire on a stupid drama of that age, printed in 1599, and called Soliman and Perseda. In this piece there is the character of a bragging cowardly knight, called Basilisco. His pretension to valour is so blown, and seen through, that Piston, a buffoon-servant in the play, jumps upon his back, and will not disengage him, till he makes Basilisco swear upon his dudgeon dagger to the contents, and in the terms he dictates to him: as, for instance: “Bas. O, I swear, I swear. “Pist. By the contents of this blade. “Bas. By the contents of this blade. “Pist. I, the aforesaid Basilisco. “Bas. I, the aforesaid Basilisco, knight, good fellow, knight, knight &lblank; “Pist. Knave, good fellow, knave, knave.” So that it is clear, our poet is sneering at this play; and makes Philip, when his mother calls him knave, throw off that reproach by humourously laying claim to his new dignity of knighthood; as Basilisco arrogantly insists on his title of knight in the passage above quoted. The old play is an execrable bad one; and, I suppose, was sufficiently exploded in the representation: which might make this circumstance so well known, as to become the butt for a stage-sarcasm. Theobald. The character of Basilisco is mentioned in Nash's Have with you to Saffron Walden, &c. printed in 1596. Steevens.

Note return to page 44 8Some sins &lblank;] There are sins, that whatever be determined of them above, are not much censured on earth. Johnson.

Note return to page 45 9Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, &c. Against whose fury and unmatched force The awless lion could not wage the fight, &c.] Shakespeare here alludes to the old metrical romance of Richard Cœur de lion, wherein this once celebrated monarch is related to have acquired his distinguishing appellation, by having plucked out a lion's heart to whose fury he was exposed by the duke o Austria, for having slain his son with a blow of his fist. From this ancient romance the story has crept into some of our old chronicles: but the original passage may be seen at large in the introduction to the third vol. of Reliques of ancient English Poetry. Percy.

Note return to page 46 1Richard, that robb'd &c.] So, Rastal in his Chronicle: “It is sayd that a lyon was put to kynge Richard, beynge in prison, to have devoured him, and when the lyon was gapynge he put his arme in his mouth, and pulled the lyon by the harte so hard that he slewe the lyon, and therefore some say he is called Rycharde Cure de Lyon; but some say he is called Cure de Lyon, because of his boldness and hardy stomake.” Gray. I have an old black lettered history of lord Fauconbridge, whence Shakespeare might pick up this circumstance. Farmer.

Note return to page 47 2By this brave duke came early to his grave:] The old play led Shakespeare into this error of ascribing to the duke of Austria the death of Richard, who lost his life at the siege of Chaluz, long after he had been ransom'd out of Austria's power. Steevens.

Note return to page 48 3At our importance &lblank;] At our importunity. Johnson.

Note return to page 49 4&lblank; that pale, that white-fac'd shore,] England is supposed to be called Albion from the white rocks facing France. Johnson.

Note return to page 50 5To make a more requital, &c.] I believe it has been already observed, that more signified in our author's time, greater. Steevens.

Note return to page 51 6A wonder, lady! &lblank;] The wonder is only that Chatillon happened to arrive at the moment when Constance mentioned him; which the French king, according to a superstition which prevails more or less in every mind agitated by great affairs, turns into a miraculous interposition, or omen of good. Johnson.

Note return to page 52 7&lblank; expedient &lblank;] Immediate, expeditious. Johnson.

Note return to page 53 8An Até, stirring him &c.] Até was the Goddess of Revenge. The player-editors read—an Ace. Steevens.

Note return to page 54 9Bearing their birth-rights, &c.] So, Hen. VIII: “Many broke their backs with bearing manors on them.” Johnson.

Note return to page 55 1&lblank; scath &lblank;] Destruction, harm. Johnson. So, in How to chuse a good Wife from a Bad, 1630: “For these accounts, faith it will scath thee somewhat.” Again: “And it shall scath him somewhat of my purse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 56 2&lblank; under-wrought &lblank;] i. e. underworked, undermined. Steevens.

Note return to page 57 3To look into the blots and stains of right.] Mr. Theobald reads, with the first folio, blots, which being so early authorized, and so much better understood, needed not to have been changed by Dr. Warburton to bolts, though bolts might be used in that time for spots: so Shakespeare calls Banquo “spotted with blood, the blood-bolter'd Banquo.” The verb to blot is used figuratively for to disgrace a few lines lower. And perhaps, after all, bolts was only a typographical mistake. Johnson. Blot is certainly right. The illegitimate branch of a family always carried the arms of it with what in ancient heraldry was called a blot or difference. So, in Drayton's Epistle from Q. Isabel to K. Richard II: “No bastard's mark doth blot his conq'ring shield.” Blots and stains occur again together in the first scene of the third act. Steevens.

Note return to page 58 4You are the hare, &lblank;] So, in the Spanish Tragedy: “He hunted well that was a lion's death; “Not he that in a garment wore his skin: “So hares may pull dead lions by the beard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 59 5It lies as sightly on the back of him, As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass: &lblank;] But why his shoes in the name of propriety? For let Hercules and his shoes have been really as big as they were ever supposed to be, yet they (I mean the shoes) would not have been an overload for an ass. I am persuaded, I have retrieved the true reading; and let us observe the justness of the comparison now, Faulconbridge in his resentment would say this to Austria: “That lion's skin, which my great father king Richard once wore, looks as uncouthly on thy back, as that other noble hide, which was borne by Hercules, would look on the back of an ass.” A double allusion was intended; first, to the fable of the ass in the lion's skin; then Richard I. is finely set in competition with Alcides, as Austria is satirically coupled with the ass. Theobald. Mr. Theobald had the art of making the most of his discoveries. Johnson. The shoes of Hercules are more than once introduced in the old comedies on much the same occasions. So, in The Isle of Gulls, by J. Day, 1606: “—are as fit, as Hercules's shoe for the foot of a pigmy.” Again, in Greene's Epistle Dedicatory to Perimedes the Blacksmith, 1588: “—and so least I should shape Hercules' shoe for a child's foot, I commend your worship to the Almighty.” Again, in Greene's Penelope's Web, 1601: “I will not make a long harvest for a small crop, nor go about to pull a Hercules' shoe on Achilles' foot.” Again, ibid. “Hercules' shoe will never serve a child's foot.” Again, in Stephen Gosson's School of Abuse, 1579: “—to draw the lyon's skin upon Æsop's asse, or Hercules' shoes on a childes feete.” Steevens.

Note return to page 60 6King Lewis, &lblank;] Thus the folio. The modern editors read —Philip, which appears to be right. It is however observable, that the answer is given in the old copy to Lewis, as if the dauphin, who was afterwards Lewis VIII. was meant to have been the speaker. The speech itself, indeed, seems appropriated to the king, and nothing can be inferred from the folio with any certainty, but that the editors of it were careless and ignorant. Steevens.

Note return to page 61 7I have but this to say,— That he's not only plagued for her sin, But, &c.] This passage appears to me very obscure. The chief difficulty arises from this, that Constance having told Elinor of her sin-conceiving womb, pursues the thought, and uses sin through the next lines in an ambiguous sense, sometimes for crime, and sometimes for offspring. He's not only plagued for her sin, &c. He is not only made miserable by vengeance for her sin or crime; but her sin, her offspring, and she, are made the instruments of that vengeance, on this descendant; who, though of the second generation, is plagued for her and with her; to whom she is not only the cause but the instrument of evil. The next clause is more perplexed. All the editions read: &lblank; plagu'd for her, And with her plague her sin; his injury, Her injury, the beadle to her sin, All punish'd in the person of this child. I point thus: &lblank; plagu'd for her And with her.—Plague her son! his injury Her injury, the beadle to her sin. That is; instead of inflicting vengeance on this innocent and remote descendant, punish her son, her immediate offspring: then the affliction will fall where it is deserved; his injury will be her injury, and the misery of her sin; her son will be a beadle, or chastiser, to her crimes, which are now all punish'd in the person of this child. Johnson. Mr. Roderick reads: &lblank; plagu'd for her, And with her plagu'd; her sin, his injury. We may read: &lblank; this I have to say, &lblank; That he's not only plagued for her sin, But God hath made her sin and her the plague On this removed issue, plagu'd for her; And, with her sin, her plague, his injury Her injury, the beadle to her sin. i. e. God hath made her and her sin together, the plague of her most remote descendants, who are plagued for her; the same power hath likewise made her sin her own plague, and the injury she has done to him her own injury, as a beadle to lash that sin. i. e. Providence has so order'd it, that she who is made the instrument of punishment to another, has, in the end, converted that other into an instrument of punishment for herself. Steevens. Constance observes that he (iste, pointing to King John, “whom from the flow of gall she names not”) is not only plagued [with the present war] for his mother's sin, but God hath made her sin and her the plague also on this removed issue, Arthur, plagued on her account, and by the means of her sinful offspring, whose injury [the usurpation of Arthur's rights] may be considered as her injury, or the injury of her sin-conceiving womb; and John's injury may also be considered as the beadle or officer of correction employed by her crimes to inflict all these punishments on the person of this child. Tollet.

Note return to page 62 8It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim To these ill-tuned repetitions.] Dr. Warburton has well observed on one of the former plays, that to cry aim is to encourage. I once thought it was borrowed from archery; and that aim! having been the word of command, as we now say present! to cry aim had been to incite notice, or raise attention. But I rather think, that the old word of applause was J'aime, I love it, and that to applaud was to cry J'aime, which the English, not easily pronouncing Je, sunk into aime or aim. Our exclamations of applause are still borrowed, as bravo and encore. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's first thought, I believe, is best. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Love's Cure, or The Martial Maid: “—Can I cry aim “To this against myself?” &lblank; So, in our author's Merry Wives of Windsor, act II. scene the last, where Ford says: “—and to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aim.” See the note on that passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 63 9For our advantage;—Therefore hear us first.—] If we read for your advantage, it would be a more specious reason for interrupting Philip. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 64 1Confronts your city's eyes, &lblank;] The old copy reads:—Comforts, &c. Mr. Rowe made this necessary change. Steevens

Note return to page 65 2&lblank; a countercheck &lblank;] This, I believe, is one of the ancient terms used in the game of chess. So, in Mucedorus: “Post hence thyself, thou counterchecking trull.” Steevens.

Note return to page 66 3'Tis not the roundure, &c.] Roundure means the same as the French rondeur, i. e. the circle. So, in All's lost by Lust, a tragedy by Rowley, 1633: “&lblank; will she meet our arms “With an alternate roundure?” Again, in Shakespeare's 21st sonnet: “&lblank; all things rare, “That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.” Steevens.

Note return to page 67 4I'd set an ox-head to your lion's hide,] So, in the old spurious play of K. John: “But let the frolick Frenchman take no scorn, “If Philip front him with an English horn.” Steevens.

Note return to page 68 5You men of Angiers, &c.] This speech is very poetical and smooth, and except the conceit of the widow's husband embracing the earth, is just and beautiful. Johnson.

Note return to page 69 6Rejoice, you men of Angiers, &c.] The English herald falls somewhat below his antagonist. Silver armour gilt with blood is a poor image. Yet our author has it again in Macbeth: “&lblank; Here lay Duncan, “His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood.” Johnson.

Note return to page 70 7And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, &lblank;] It was, I think, one of the savage practices of the chase, for all to stain their hands in the blood of the deer, as a trophy. Johnson.

Note return to page 71 8Heralds, from off &c.] These three speeches seem to have been laboured. The citizen's is the best; yet both alike we like is a poor gingle. Johnson.

Note return to page 72 9&lblank; mouthing the flesh of men,] The old copy reads—mousing. Steevens.9Q0591

Note return to page 73 1Cry havock, kings! &lblank;] That is, command slaughter to proceed; so, in another place: “He with Até by his side, Cries, havock!” Johnson.

Note return to page 74 2You equal potents, &lblank;] Potents for potentates. So, in Ane verie excellent and delectabill Treatise intitulit Philotus, &c. 1603: “Ane of the potentes of the town.” Steevens.

Note return to page 75 3In the old copy: A greater pow'r, than we, denies all this; &lblank; Kings of our fears; &lblank;] We should read, than ye. What power was this? their fears. It is plain therefore we should read: Kings are our fears,—i. e. our fears are the kings which at present rule us. Warburton. Dr. Warburton saw what was requisite to make this passage sense; and Dr. Johnson, rather too hastily, I think, has received his emendation into the text. He reads: Kings are our fears, &lblank; which he explains to mean, “our fears are the kings which at present rule us.” As the same sense may be obtained by a much slighter alteration, I am more inclined to read: King'd of our fears, &lblank; King'd is used as a participle passive by Shakespeare more than once, I believe. I remember one instance in Henry the Fifth, act II. sc. v. The Dauphin says of England: “&lblank; she is so idly king'd. It is scarce necessary to add, that, of, here (as in numberless other places) has the signification of, by. Tyrwhitt. A greater power than we, may mean the Lord of hosts, who has not yet decided the superiority of either army; and 'till it be undoubted, the people of Angiers will not open their gates. Secure and confident as lions, they are not at all afraid, but are kings, i. e. masters and commanders, of their fears, until their fears or doubts about the rightful king of England, are removed. Tollet.

Note return to page 76 4&lblank; these scroyles of Angiers &lblank;] Escrouelles, Fr. i. e. scabby, scrophulous fellows. Ben Jonson uses the word in Every Man in his Humour: “&lblank; hang them scroyles!” Steevens.

Note return to page 77 5Be friends a while, &c.] This advice is given by the Bastard in the old copy of the play, though comprized in fewer and less spirited lines. Steevens.

Note return to page 78 6&lblank; the lady Blanch,] The lady Blanch was daughter to Alphonso the Ninth, king of Castile, and was niece to king John by his sister Elianor. Steevens.

Note return to page 79 7If zealous love &c.] Zealous seems here to signify pious or influenced by motives of religion. Johnson.

Note return to page 80 8If not complete of, say, &c.] Sir T. Hanmer reads, O! say. Johnson.

Note return to page 81 9He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she:] Dr. Thirlby prescrib'd that reading, which I have here restored to the text. Theobald.

Note return to page 82 1&lblank; at this match, With swifter spleen &c.] Our author uses spleen for any violent hurry, or tumultuous speed. So, in the Midsummer Night's Dream he applies spleen to the lightning, I am loath to think that Shakespeare meant to play with the double of match for nuptial, and the match of a gun. Johnson.

Note return to page 83 2Here's a stay, That shakes the rotten carcass of old death Out of his rags! &lblank;] I cannot but think that every reader wishes for some other word in the place of stay, which though it may signify an hindrance, or man that hinders, is yet very improper to introduce the next line. I read: Here's a flaw, That shakes the rotten carcass of old death. That is, here is a gust of bravery, a blast of menace. This suits well with the spirit of the speech. Stay and flaw, in a careless hand, are not easily distinguished; and if the writing was obscure, flaw being a word less usual, was easily missed. Johnson. Shakespeare seems to have taken the hint of this speech from the following in the Famous History of Tho. Stukely, 1606. bl. l. “Why here's a gallant, here's a king indeed! “He speaks all Mars:—tut, let me follow such “A lad as this:—This is pure fire: “Ev'ry look he casts, flasheth like lightning; “There's mettle in this boy. “He brings a breath that sets our sails on fire: “Why now I see we shall have cuffs indeed.” Perhaps the force of the word stay is not exactly known. I meet with it in Damon and Pythias, 1582: “Not to prolong my lyfe thereby, for which I reckon not this, “But to set my things in a stay.” Perhaps by a stay, in this instance, is meant a steady posture. Shakespeare's meaning may therefore be:—“Here's a steady, resolute fellow, who shakes &c.” A stay, however, seems to have been meant for something active, in the following passage in the 6th canto of Drayton's Barons Wars: “Oh could ambition apprehend a stay, “The giddy course it wandreth in, to guide.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. ii. c. 10: “Till riper years he raught, and stronger stay.” Perhaps the metaphor is from navigation. Thus, in Chapman's version of the tenth book of Homer's Odyssey: “Our ship lay anchor'd close, nor needed we “Feare harm on any stays.” A marginal note adds: “For being cast on the staies, as ships are by weather.” Steevens.

Note return to page 84 3Lest zeal, now melted, &lblank;] We have here a very unusual, and, I think, not very just image of zeal, which, in its highest degree, is represented by others as a flame, but by Shakespeare, as a frost. To repress zeal, in the language of others, is to cool, in Shakespeare's to melt it; when it exerts its utmost power it is commonly said to flame, but by Shakespeare to be congealed. Johnson. Sure the poet means to compare zeal to metal in a state of fusion, and not to dissolving ice. Steevens.9Q0596

Note return to page 85 4In old editions: For Angiers and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, And all that we upon this side the sea, Except this city now by us besieg'd, Find liable &c.] What was the city besieged, but Angiers? King John agrees to give up all he held in France, except the city of Angiers, which he now besieged and laid claim to. But could he give up all except Angiers, and give up that too? Anjou was one of the provinces which the English held in France. Theobald. Mr. Theobald found, or might have found, the reading which he would introduce as an emendation of his own, in the old quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 86 5&lblank; Volquessen, &lblank;] This is the ancient name for the country now called the Vexin, in Latin, Pagus Velocassinus. That part of it called the Norman Vexin, was in dispute between Philip and John. Steevens.

Note return to page 87 6&lblank; I am well assur'd, That I did so when I was first assur'd.] Assur'd is here used both in its common sense, and in an uncommon one, where it signifies affianced, contracted. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “Called me Dromio, swore I was assur'd to her.” Steevens.

Note return to page 88 7&lblank; departed with a part:] To part and to depart were formerly synonymous. So, in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “Faith, sir, I can hardly depart with ready money.” Again, in The Sad Shepherd: “I have departed it 'mong my poor neighbours.” Again, in Every Woman in her Humour, 1609: “She'll serve under him 'till death us depart.” Again, in A merry Jest of a Man called Howleglas, bl. l. no date: “The neighbours went between them, and departed them.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. vi. c. 2: “To weet the cause of so uncomely fray, “And to depart them, if so be he may.” Again, in the Downfal of Robert E. of Huntington, 1601: “The world shall not depart us 'till we die.” Steevens.

Note return to page 89 8&lblank; rounded in the ear] i. e. Whispered in the ear. The word is frequently used by Chaucer, as well as later writers. So, in Lingua, or A Combat of the Tongue, &c. 1607: “I help'd Herodotus to pen some part of his Muses; lent Pliny ink to write his history, and rounded Rabelais in the ear when he historified Pantagruel.” Again, in The Spanish Tragedy: “Forthwith Revenge, she rounded me i' th' ear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 90 9Commodity, the bias of the world;] Commodity is interest. So, in Damon and Pythias, 1582: “&lblank; for vertue's sake only, “They would honour friendship, and not for commoditie.” Again: “I will use his friendship to mine own commoditie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 91 1&lblank; clutch my hand,] To clutch my hand, is to clasp it close. So, in Antonio's Revenge, 1602: “The fist of strenuous vengeance is clutch'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 92 2If thou, &c.] Massinger appears to have copied this passage in The Unnatural Combat: —“If thou hadst been born “Deform'd and crooked in the features of “Thy body, as the manners of thy mind, “Moor-lip'd, flat-nos'd, &c. &c. “I had been blest.” Steevens.

Note return to page 93 3&lblank; sightless &lblank;] The poet uses sightless for that which we now express by unsightly, disagreeable to the eyes. Johnson.

Note return to page 94 4&lblank; prodigious,] That is, portentous, so deformed as to be taken for a foretoken of evil. Johnson. In this sense it is used by Decker in the first part of the Honest Whore, 1635: —“yon comet shews his head again; “Twice hath he thus at cross-turns thrown on us “Prodigious looks.” Again, in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1607: “Over whose roof hangs this prodigious comet.” Again, in the English Arcadia, by Jarvis Markham, 1607: “O yes, I was prodigious to thy birth-right, and as a blazing star at thine unlook'd for funeral.” Steevens.

Note return to page 95 5&lblank; makes its owner stout.] The old editions have:—makes its owner stoop: the emendation is Hanmer's. Johnson. So, in Daniel's Civil Wars, b. vi: “Full with stout grief and with disdainful woe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 96 6To me, and to the state of my great grief, Let kings assemble; &lblank;] In Much ado about Nothing, the father of Hero, depressed by her disgrace, declares himself so subdued by grief that a thread may lead him. How is it that grief in Leonato and lady Constance produces effects directly opposite, and yet both agreeable to nature? Sorrow softens the mind while it is yet warmed by hope, but hardens it when it is congealed by despair. Distress, while there remains any prospect of relief, is weak and flexible, but when no succour remains, is fearless and stubborn; angry alike at those that injure, and at those that do not help; careless to please where nothing can be gained, and fearless to offend when there is nothing further to be dreaded. Such was this writer's knowledge of the passions. Johnson.

Note return to page 97 7&lblank; bid kings come bow to it.] I must here account for the liberty I have taken to make a change in the division of the 2d and 3d acts. In the old editions, the 2d act was made to end here; though it is evident, lady Constance here, in her despair, seats herself on the floor: and she must be supposed, as I formerly observed, immediately to rise again, only to go off and end the act decently; or the flat scene must shut her in from the sight of the audience, an absurdity I cannot accuse Shakespeare of. Mr. Gildon and some other criticks fancied, that a considerable part of the 2d act was lost; and that the chasm began here. I had joined in this suspicion of a scene or two being lost; and unwittingly drew Mr. Pope into this error. “It seems to be so, says he, and it were to be wish'd the restorer (meaning me) could supply it.” To deserve this great man's thanks, I'll venture at the task; and hope to convince my readers, that nothing is lost; but that I have supplied the suspected chasm, only by rectifying the division of the acts. Upon looking a little more narrowly into the constitution of the play, I am satisfied that the 3d act ought to begin with that scene which has hitherto been accounted the last of the 2d act; and my reasons for it are these: the match being concluded, in the scene before that, betwixt the Dauphin and Blanch, a messenger is sent for lady Constance to king Philip's tent, for her to come to Saint Mary's church to the solemnity. The princes all go out, as to the marriage; and the bastard staying a little behind, to descant on interest and commodity, very properly ends the act. The next scene then, in the French king's tent, brings us Salisbury delivering his message to Constance, who, refusing to go to the solemnity, sets herself down on the floor. The whole train returning from the church to the French king's pavilion, Philip expresses such satisfaction on occasion of the happy solemnity of that day, that Constance rises from the floor, and joins in the scene by entering her protest against their joy, and cursing the business of the day. Thus, I conceive, the scenes are fairly continued; and there is no chasm in the action, but a proper interval made both for Salisbury's coming to lady Constance, and for the solemnization of the marriage. Besides, as Faulconbridge is evidently the poet's favourite character, it was very well judged to close the act with his soliloquy. Theobald. This whole note seems judicious enough; but Mr. Theobald forgets that there were, in Shakespeare's time, no moveable scenes in common playhouses. Johnson. It appears from many passages that the ancient theatres had the advantages of machinery as well as the more modern stages. See a note on the fourth scene of the fifth act of Cymbeline. Steevens.

Note return to page 98 8To solemnize this day, &c.] From this passage Rowe seems to have borrowed the first lines of his Fair Penitent. Johnson.

Note return to page 99 9&lblank; and plays the alchymist;] Milton has borrowed this thought, Paradise Lost, b. iii:   —“when with one virtuous touch “Th' arch-chemic sun, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 100 1&lblank; high tides, &lblank;] i. e. solemn seasons, times to be observed above others. Steevens.9Q0601

Note return to page 101 2&lblank; prodigiously be crost:] i. e. be disappointed by the production of a prodigy, a monster. So, in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “Nor mark prodigious, such as are “Despised in nativity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 102 3But on this day, &lblank; No bargains break, &c.] That is, except on this day. Johnson. In the ancient almanacs (one of which I have in my possession, dated 1562) the days supposed to be favourable or unfavourable to bargains, are distinguished among a number of other particulars of the like importance. This circumstance is alluded to in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “By the almanac, I think “To choose good days and shun the critical.” Again, in The Elder Brother of Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; an almanac “Which thou art daily poring in, to pick out “Days of iniquity to cozen fools in.” Steevens.

Note return to page 103 4You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, But now in arms you strengthen it with yours:] I am afraid here is a clinch intended; You came in war to destroy my enemies, but now you strengthen them in embraces. Johnson.

Note return to page 104 5Set armed discord &c.] Shakespeare makes this bitter curse effectual. Johnson.

Note return to page 105 6O Lymoges! O Austria! &lblank;] The propriety or impropriety of these titles, which every editor has suffered to pass unnoted, deserves a little consideration. Shakespeare has, on this occasion, followed the old play, which at once furnished him with the character of Faulconbridge, and ascribed the death of Richard I. to the duke of Austria. In the person of Austria, he has conjoined the two well-known enemies of Cœur-de-lion. Leopold, duke of Austria, threw him into prison, in a former expedition; but the castle of Chalus, before which he fell, belonged to Vidomar, viscount of Limoges; and the archer, who pierced his shoulder with an arrow (of which wound he died) was Bertrand de Gourdon. The editors seem hitherto to have understood Lymoges as being an appendage to the title of Austria, and therefore enquired no further about it. Holinshed says on this occasion: “The same yere, Phillip, bastard sonne to king Richard, to whome his father had given the castell and honor of Coinacke, killed the viscount of Limoges, in revenge of his father's death, &c.” Austria, in the spurious play, is called Lymoges the Austrich duke. With this note, I was favoured by a gentleman to whom I have yet more considerable obligations in regard to Shakespeare. His extensive knowledge of history and manners, has frequently supplied me with apt and necessary illustrations, at the same time that his judgment has corrected my errors; yet such has been his constant solicitude to remain concealed, that I know not but I may give offence while I indulge my own vanity in affixing to this note the name of my friend Henry Blake, esq. Steevens.

Note return to page 106 7doff it for shame,] To doff is to do off, to put off. So, in Fuimus Troes, 1603: “Sorrow must doff her sable weeds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 107 8And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.] When fools were kept for diversion in great families, they were distinguished by a calf-skin coat, which had the buttons down the back; and this they wore that they might be known for fools, and escape the resentment of those whom they provoked with their waggeries. In a little penny book, intitled The Birth, Life, and Death of John Franks, with the Pranks he played though a meer Fool, mention is made in several places of a calf's-skin. In chap x. of this book, Jack is said to have made his appearance at his lord's table, having then a new calf-skin suit, red and white spotted. This fact will explain the sarcasm of Constance and Faulconbridge, who mean to call Austria a fool. Sir J. Hawkins. I may add, that the custom is still preserved in Ireland; and the fool, in any of the legends which the mummers act at Christmas, always appears in a calf's or cow's skin. In the prologue to Wily Beguiled, are the two following passages: “I'll make him do penance upon the stage in a calf's skin.” Again: “His calf's skin jests from hence are clean exil'd.” Again, in the play: “I'll come wrapp'd in a calf's skin, and cry bo, bo.” &lblank; Again:—“I'll wrap me in a rousing calf-skin suit, and come like some Hobgoblin.”—“I mean my Christmas calf-skin suit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 108 9Here Mr. Pope inserts the following speeches from the old play of K. John, printed in 1591, (before Shakespeare appears to have commenced a writer) with the following note upon them. “Aust. Methinks, that Richard's pride, and Richard's fall, “Should be a precedent to fright you all. “Faulc. What words are these? how do my sinews shake! “My father's foe clad in my father's spoil! “How doth Alecto whisper in my ears, “Delay not, Richard, kill the villain strait; “Disrobe him of the matchless monument, “Thy father's triumph o'er the savages. &lblank; “Now by his soul I swear, my father's soul, “Twice will I not review the morning's rise, “Till I have torn that trophy from thy back, “And split thy heart, for wearing it so long.” “Methinks, that Richard's pride, &c.] What was the ground of this quarrel of the bastard to Austria is no where specified in the present play: nor is there in this place, or the scene where it is first hinted at (namely the second of act II.) the least mention of any reason for it. But the story is, that Austria, who killed king Richard Cœur-de-lion, wore as the spoil of that prince, a lion's hide which had belonged to him. This circumstance renders the anger of the Bastard very natural, and ought not to have been omitted. In the first sketch of this play (which Shakespeare is said to have had a hand in, jointly with William Rowley) we accordingly find this insisted upon, and I have ventured to place a few of those verses here.”—Here Dr. Johnson adds:— “To the insertion of these lines I have nothing to object. There are many other passages in the old play of great value. The omission of this incident, in the second draught, was natural. Shakespeare, having familiarized the story to his own imagination, forgot that it was obscure to his audience; or, what is equally probable, the story was then so popular, that a hint was sufficient at that time to bring it to mind, and those plays were written with very little care for the approbation of posterity.” Steevens. Aust. Methinks, &c.] I cannot by any means approve of the insertion of these lines from the other play. If they were necessary to explain the ground of the Bastard's quarrel to Austria, as Mr. Pope supposes, they should rather be inserted in the first scene of the second act, at the time of the first altercation between the Bastard and Austria. But indeed the ground of their quarrel seems to be as clearly expressed in that first scene as in these lines; so that they are unnecessary in either place; and therefore, I think, should be thrown out of the text, as well as the three other lines, which have been inserted with as little reason in act III. sc. ii. Thus hath king Richard's &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 109 1What earthly name to interrogatories] This must have been at the time when it was written, in our struggles with popery, a very captivating scene. So many passages remain in which Shakespeare evidently takes his advantage of the facts then recent, and of the passions then in motion, that I cannot but suspect that time has obscured much of his art, and that many allusions yet remain undiscovered, which perhaps may be gradually retrieved by succeeding commentators. Johnson. The speech stands thus in the old spurious play: “And what hast thou or the pope thy master to do to demand of me how I employ mine own? Know, sir priest, as I honour the church and holy churchmen, so I scorne to be subject to the greatest prelate in the world. Tell thy master so from me; and say John of England said it, that never an Italian priest of them all, shall either have tythe, toll or polling penny out of England; but as I am king, so will I reign next under God, supreme head both over spiritual and temporal: and he that contradicts me in this, I'll make him hop headless.” Steevens.

Note return to page 110 2That takes away by any secret course &c.] This may allude to the bull published against queen Elizabeth. Or we may suppose, since we have no proof that this play appeared in its present state before the reign of king James, that it was exhibited soon after the popish plot. I have seen a Spanish book in which Garnet, Faux, and their accomplices are registered as faints. Johnson.

Note return to page 111 3It, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,] It is a political maxim, that kingdoms are never married. Lewis, upon the wedding, is for making war upon his new relations. Johnson.

Note return to page 112 4&lblank; the devil tempts thee here In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.] Though all the copies concur in this reading, yet as untrimmed cannot bear any signification to square with the sense required I cannot help thinking it a corrupted reading. I have ventured to throw out the negative, and read: In likeness of a new and trimmed bride. i. e. of a new bride, and one decked and adorned as well by art as nature. Theobald. &lblank; a new untrimmed bride.] Mr. Theobald says, “that as untrimmed cannot bear any signification to square with the sense required,” it must be corrupt; therefore he will cashier it, and read, and trimmed; in which he is followed by the Oxford editor; but they are both too hasty. It squares very well with the sense, and signifies unsteady. The term is taken from navigation. We say too, in a similar way of speaking, not well manned. Warburton. I think Mr. Theobald's correction more plausible than Dr. Warburton's explanation. A commentator should be grave, and therefore I can read these notes with proper severity of attention; but the idea of trimming a lady to keep her steady, would be too risible for any common power of face. Johnson. Trim is dress. An untrimmed bride is a bride undrest. Could the tempter of mankind assume a semblance in which he was more likely to be successful? The devil (says Constance) raises to your imagination your bride disencumber'd of the forbidding forms of dress, and the memory of my wrongs is lost in the anticipation of future enjoyment. Ben Jonson, in his New Inn, says: “Bur. Here's a lady gay. “Tip. A well-trimm'd lady!” Again, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “And I was trimm'd in madam Julia's gown.” Again, in K. Henry VI. P. III. act II: “Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love.” Again, in Reginald Scott's Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584: “&lblank; a good huswife and also well trimmed up in apparel.” Mr. Collins inclines to a colder interpretation, and is willing to suppose that by an untrimmed bride is meant a bride unadorned with the usual pomp and formality of a nuptial habit. The propriety of this epithet he infers from the haste in which the match was made, and further justifies it from K. John's preceding words: “Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, “To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp.” Mr. Tollet is of the same opinion, and offers two instances in which untrimmed indicates a deshabille or a frugal vesture. In Minshew's Dictionary, it signifies one not finely drest or attired. Again, in Vives's Instruction of a Christian Woman, 1592, p. 98, and 99: “Let her [the mistress of the house] bee content with a maide not faire and wanton, that can sing a ballat with a clere voice, but sad, pale, and untrimmed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 113 5&lblank; so strong in both,] I believe the meaning is, love so strong in both parties. Johnson.

Note return to page 114 6&lblank; this kind regreet?] A regreet is an exchange of salutation. So, in Heywood's Iron Age, 1632: “So bear our kind regreets to Hecuba.” Steevens.

Note return to page 115 7A cased lion &lblank;] All the modern editors read, a chafed lion. I see little reason for change. A cased lion, is a lion irritated by confinement. So, in K. Henry VI. P. III. act I. sc. iii: “So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch “That trembles under his devouring paws &c.” The author might, however, have written, a chased lion. Steevens. Cased, I believe, is the true reading. So, in Rowley's When you see Me you know Me, 1632: “The lyon in his cage is not so sterne “As royal Henry in his wrathful spleene.” Malone.

Note return to page 116 8Is not amiss, when it is truly done:] This is the conclusion de travers. We should read: Is yet amiss, &lblank; The Oxford editor, according to his usual custom, will improve it further, and reads, most amiss. Warburton. I rather read: Is't not amiss, when it is truly done? as the alteration is less, and the sense which Dr. Warburton first discovered, is preserved. Johnson.

Note return to page 117 9But thou hast sworn against religion: &c.] In this long speech, the legate is made to shew his skill in casuistry; and the strange heap of quibble and nonsense of which it consists, was intended to ridicule that of the schools. For when he assumes the politician, at the conclusion of the third act, the author makes him talk at another rate. I mean in that beautiful passage where he speaks of the mischiefs following the king's loss of his subjects hearts. This conduct is remarkable, and was intended, I suppose, to shew us how much better politicians the Roman courtiers are, than divines. Warburton. I am not able to discover here any thing inconsequent or ridiculously subtle. The propositions, that the voice of the church is the voice of heaven, and that the pope utters the voice of the church, neither of which Pandulph's auditors would deny, being once granted, the argument here used is irresistible; nor is it easy, notwithstanding the gingle, to enforce it with greater brevity or propriety: But thou hast sworn against religion: By what thou swear'st, against the thing thou swear'st: And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth, Against an oath the truth thou art unsure To swear, swear only not to be forsworn. By what. Sir T. Hanmer reads, by that. I think it should be rather by which. That is, thou swear'st against the thing, by which thou swear'st; that is, against religion. The most formidable difficulty is in these lines: And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth, Against an oath the truth thou art unsure To swear, &c. This sir T. Hanmer reforms thus: And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth, Against an oath; this truth thou art unsure To swear, &c. Dr. Warburton writes it thus: Against an oath the truth thou art unsure &lblank; which leaves the passage to me as obscure as before. I know not whether there is any corruption beyond the omission of a point. The sense, after I had considered it, appeared to me only this: In swearing by religion against religion, to which thou hast already sworn, thou makest an oath the security for thy faith against an oath already taken. I will give, says he, a rule for conscience in these cases. Thou mayst be in doubt about the matter of an oath; when thou swearest thou mayst not be always sure to swear rightly, but let this be thy settled principle, swear only not to be forsworn; let not the latter oaths be at variance with the former. Truth, through this whole speech, means rectitude of conduct. Johnson.

Note return to page 118 1Some airy devil &lblank;] We must read: Some fiery devil, if we will have the cause equal to the effect. Warburton. There is no end of such alterations; every page of a vehement and negligent writer will afford opportunities for changes of terms, if mere propriety will justify them. Not that of this change the propriety is out of controversy. Dr. Warburton will have the devil fiery, because he makes the day hot; the author makes him airy, because he hovers in the sky, and the heat and mischief are natural consequences of his malignity. Johnson. Shakespeare here probably alludes to the distinctions and divisions of some of the demonologists, so much read and regarded in his time. They distributed the devils into different tribes and classes, each of which had its peculiar properties, attributes, &c. These are described at length in Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy, part. I. sect. ii., p. 45. 1632: “Of these sublunary devils—Psellus makes six kinds; fiery, aeriall, terrestriall, watery, and subterranean devils, besides those faieries, satyres, nymphes, &c.” “Fiery spirits or divells are such as commonly worke by blazing starres, fire-drakes, and counterfeit sunnes and moones, and sit on ship's masts, &c. &c.” “Aeriall spirits or divells are such as keep quarter most part in the aire, cause many tempests, thunder and lightnings, teare oakes, fire steeples, houses, strike men and beasts, make it raine stones, &c.” Percy.

Note return to page 119 2Here Mr. Pope, without authority, adds from the old play already mentioned: “Thus hath king Richard's son perform'd his vow, “And offer'd Austria's blood for sacrifice “Unto his father's ever-living soul.” Steevens.

Note return to page 120 3&lblank; Philip, &lblank;] Here the king, who had knighted him by the name of Sir Richard, calls him by his former name. Mr. Tyrwhitt would read: Hubert, keep [thou] this boy, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 121 4&lblank; the fat ribs of peace Must by the hungry now, be fed upon:] This word now seems a very idle term here, and conveys no satisfactory idea. An antithesis, and opposition of terms, so perpetual with our author, requires: Must by the hungry war he fed upon. War, demanding a large expence, is very poetically said to be hungry, and to prey on the wealth and fat of peace. Warburton. This emendation is better than the former, but yet not necessary. Sir T. Hanmer reads, hungry maw, with less deviation from the common reading, but with not so much force or elegance as war. Johnson. Either emendation is unnecessary. The hungry now is this hungry instant. Shakespeare perhaps uses the word now as a substantive, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; till this very now, “When men were fond, I smil'd and wonder'd how.” Steevens.9Q0605

Note return to page 122 5Bell book and candle, &c.] In an account of the Romish curse given by Dr. Gray, it appears that three candles were extinguished, one by one, in different parts of the execration. Johnson. I meet with the same expression in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “I'll have a priest shall mumble up a marriage “Without bell, book or candle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 123 6&lblank; full of gawds,] Gawds, are any showy ornaments. So, in the Dumb Knight, 1633: “To caper in his grave, and with vain gawds “Trick up his coffin.” Steevens.

Note return to page 124 7Sound on unto the drowsy race of night;] We should read: Sound one &lblank; Warburton. I should suppose sound on (which is the reading of the old copy) to be the true one. The meaning seems to be this; if the midnight bell, by repeated strokes, was to hasten away the race of beings who are busy at that hour, or quicken night itself in its progress, the morning bell (that is, the bell that strikes one) could not, with strict propriety, be made the agent; for the bell has ceased to be in the service of night, when it proclaims the arrival of day. Sound on has a peculiar propriety, because by the repetition of the strokes at twelve, it gives a much more forcible warning than when it only strikes one. Such was once my opinion concerning the old reading; but on re-consideration, its propriety cannot appear more doubtful to any one than to myself. It is too late to talk of hastening the night when the arrival of the morning is announced; and I am afraid that the repeated strokes have less of solemnity than the single notice, as they take from the horror and awful silence here described as so propitious to the dreadful purposes of the king. Though the hour of one be not the natural midnight, it is yet the most solemn moment of the poetical one; and Shakespeare himself has chosen to introduce his Ghost in Hamlet: “The bell then beating one.” Mr. Malone observes, “that one and on, are perpetually confounded in the old copies of our author.” Steevens.9Q0607

Note return to page 125 8&lblank; broad-ey'd &lblank;] The old copy reads—brooded. Mr. Pope made the alteration, which, however elegant, may be unnecessary. All animals while brooded, i. e. with a brood of young ones under their protection, are remarkably vigilant. The King says of Hamlet: “&lblank; something's in his soul “O'er which his melancholy sits at brood.” Steevens.

Note return to page 126 9This is one of the scenes to which may be promised a lasting commendation. Art could add little to its perfection, and time itself can take nothing from its beauties. Steevens.

Note return to page 127 1A whole armado &c.] This similitude, as little as it makes for the purpose in hand, was, I do not question, a very taking one when the play was first represented; which was a winter or two at most after the Spanish invasion in 1588. It was in reference likewise to that glorious period that Shakespeare concludes his play in that triumphant manner: “Thus England never did, nor never shall, “Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, &c.” But the whole play abounds with touches relative to the then posture of affairs. Warburton. This play, so far as I can discover, was not played till a long time after the defeat of the armado. The old play, I think, wants this simile. The commentator should not have affirmed what he can only guess. Johnson. Armado is a Spanish word signifying a fleet of war. The armado in 1588 was called so by way of distinction. Steevens.

Note return to page 128 2&lblank; of collected sail] Thus the modern editors. The old copy reads—convicted. Steevens.

Note return to page 129 3&lblank; in so fierce a cause,] We should read course, i. e. march. The Oxford editor condescends to this emendation. Warburton. A fierce cause is a cause conducted with precipitation. “Fierce wretchedness.” in Timom, is, hasty, sudden misery. Steevens.

Note return to page 130 4&lblank; a grave unto a soul, Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, In the vile prison of afflicted breath:] I think we should read earth. The passage seems to have been copied from sir Thomas More: “If the body be to the soule a prison, how strait a prison maketh he the body, that stuffeth it with riff-raff, that the soule can have no room to stirre itself— but is, as it were, enclosed not in a prison, but in a grave.” Farmer. Perhaps the old reading is justifiable. So, in Measure for Measure: “To be imprison'd in the viewless winds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 131 5No, I defy &c.] To defy anciently signified to refuse. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “I do defy thy commiseration.” Steevens.

Note return to page 132 6And buss thee as thy wife!] Thus the old copy. The word buss, however, being now only used in vulgar language, our modern editors have exchanged it for kiss. The former is used by Drayton in the 3d canto of his Barons' Wars, where queen Isabel says: “And we by signs sent many a secret buss.” Again, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 10: “But every satyre first did give a busse “To Hellenore; so busses did abound.” Again, Stanyhurst the translator of Virgil, 1582, renders “&lblank; oscula libavit natæ &lblank; “Bust his prittye parrat prating &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 133 7&lblank; modern invocation.] It is hard to say what Shakespeare means by modern: it is not opposed to ancient. In All's Well that ends Well, speaking of a girl in contempt, he uses this word: “her modern grace.” It apparently means something slight and inconsiderable. Johnson. Modern, I believe, is trite, common. So, in As you like It: “Full of wise saws and modern instances.” Steevens.

Note return to page 134 8Bind up those tresses: &lblank;] It was necessary that Constance should be interrupted, because a passion so violent cannot be borne long. I wish the following speeches had been equally happy; but they only serve to shew, how difficult it is to maintain the pathetic long. Johnson.

Note return to page 135 9&lblank; wiry friends] The old copy reads, wiry fiends. Wiery is an adjective used by Heywood in his Silver Age, 1613: “My vassal furies, with their wiery strings, “Shall lash thee hence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 136 1&lblank; but yesterday suspire,] To suspire in Shakespeare, I believe, only means to breathe. So, in K. Henry IV. P. II: “Did he suspire, that light and weightless down “Perforce must move.” Steevens.

Note return to page 137 2&lblank; a gracious creature born.] Gracious, in this instance, as in some others, signifies graceful. So, in Albion's Triumph, a masque, 1631: “&lblank; on which (the freeze) were festoons of several fruits, in their natural colours, on which, in gracious postures, lay children sleeping.” Again, in the same piece: “&lblank; they stood about him, not in set ranks, but in several gracious postures.” Again, in the Malecontent, 1604: “The most exquisite, &c. that ever made an old lady gratious by torch-light.” Steevens.

Note return to page 138 3Grief fills the room up of my absent child,] “Perfruitur lachrymis et amat pro conjuge luctum.” Lucan, lib. ix. A French poet, Maynard, has the same thought: “Mon dëuil me plaît et me doit toujours plaire,   “Il me tient lieu de celle que je plains.” Malone.

Note return to page 139 4&lblank; had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort &lblank;] This is a sentiment which great sorrow always dictates. Whoever cannot help himself casts his eyes on others for assistance, and often mistakes their inability for coldness. Johnson.

Note return to page 140 5There's nothing in this &c.] The young prince feels his defeat with more sensibility than his father. Shame operates most strongly in the earlier years; and when can disgrace be less welcome than when a man is going to his bride? Johnson.

Note return to page 141 6&lblank; true blood,] The blood of him that has the just claim. Johnson.

Note return to page 142 7No scape of nature, &lblank;] The author very finely calls a monstrous birth, an escape of nature. As if it were produced while she was busy elsewhere, or intent on some other thing. But the Oxford editor will have it, that Shakespeare wrote: No shape of nature. &lblank; Warburton. The old copy reads:—No scope, &c. Steevens.9Q0612

Note return to page 143 8Or, as a little snow, &lblank;] Bacon, in his History of Henry VII. speaking of Simnel's march, observes, that “their snow-ball did not gather as it went.” Johnson.

Note return to page 144 9&lblank; strong actions: &lblank;] The oldest copy reads:—strange actions: the folio 1632:—strong. Steevens.

Note return to page 145 1Young gentlemen &c.] It should seem that this affectation had found its way into England, as it is ridiculed by Ben Jonson in the character of Master Stephen in Every Man in his Humour. Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Queen of Corinth, Onos says: “Come let's be melancholy.” Again, in Lylly's Midas, 1592: “Melancholy! is melancholy a word for a barber's mouth? Thou should'st say, heavy, dull, and doltish: melancholy is the crest of courtiers, and now every base companion, &c. says he is melancholy.” Again, in the Life and Death of the Lord Cromwell, 1613: “My nobility is wonderful melancholy. &lblank; “Is it not most gentleman like to be melancholy?” Steevens. Lilly, in his Mydas, ridicules the affectation of melancholy: “Now every base companion, being in his muble fubles, says, he is melancholy.—Thou should'st say thou art lumpish. If thou encroach on our courtly terms, weele trounce thee.” Farmer.

Note return to page 146 2Turning dispiteous torture out of door?] For torture sir T. Hanmer reads nature, and is followed, I think, without necessity, by Dr. Warburton. Johnson.

Note return to page 147 3I would not have believed a tongue but Hubert's.] Thus Mr. Pope found the line in the old editions. According to this reading it is supposed that Hubert had told him, he would not put out his eyes; for the angel who says he would, is brought in as contradicting Hubert. Mr. Theobald, by what authority I don't know, reads: I would not have believ'd him: no tongue, but Hubert's. which is spoiling the measure, without much mending the sense. Shakespeare, I am persuaded, wrote: I would not have believ'd a tongue bate Hubert; i. e. abate, disparage. The blunder seems to have arisen thus: bate signifies except, saving; so the transcribers, taking it in this sense, substituted the more usual word but in its place. My alteration greatly improves the sense, as implying a tenderness of affection for Hubert; the common reading, only an opinion of Hubert's veracity; whereas the point here was to win upon Hubert's passions, which could not be better done than by shewing affection towards him. Warburton. I do not see why the old reading may not stand. Mr. Theobald's alteration, as we find, injures the measure, and Dr. Warburton's corrupts the language, and neither can be said much to mend the sense. Johnson. Mr. Theobald's reading is the reading of the old copy. I have therefore restored it. &lblank; rixatur de lana sæpe caprina. Shakespeare very probably meant the last line to have been broken off imperfectly; thus: I would not have believ'd him; no tongue, but Hubert's &lblank; The old reading is, however, sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 148 4Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,] This is according to nature. We imagine no evil so great as that which is near us. Johnson.

Note return to page 149 5No, in good sooth; &c.] The sense is: the fire, being created not to hurt, but to comfort, is dead with grief for finding itself used in acts of cruelty, which, being innocent, I have not deserved. Johnson.

Note return to page 150 6There is no malice in this burning coal;] Dr. Gray says, “that no malice in a burning coal is certainly absurd, and that we should read: “There is no malice burning in this coal.” Steevens.

Note return to page 151 7This once again,—was once superfluous:] This one time more was one time more than enough. Johnson. It should be remembered that king John was at present crowned for the fourth time. Steevens.

Note return to page 152 8To guard a title that was rich before,] To guard, is to fringe. Johnson.

Note return to page 153 1They do confound their skill in covetousness:] i. e. Not by their avarice, but in an eager emulation, an intense desire of excelling; as in Henry V: “But if it be a sin to covet honour, “I am the most offending soul alive.” Theobald.

Note return to page 154 2&lblank; in hiding of the fault, Than did the fault &lblank;] We should read flaw in both places. Warburton. The old reading is the true one. Fault means blemish. Steevens.

Note return to page 155 3Some reasons of this double coronation I have possest you with, and think them strong; And more, more strong (the lesser is my fear) I shall endue you with: &lblank;] I have told you some reasons, in my opinion strong, and shall tell more yet stronger; for the stronger my reasons are, the less is my fear of your disapprobation. This seems to be the meaning. Johnson.

Note return to page 156 4And more, more strong, (the lesser is my fear) I shall endee you with: &lblank;] The first folio reads: &lblank; (then lesser is my fear) The present text is given according to Theobald, whose reading I cannot understand, though the true one is obvious enough: &lblank; (when lesser is my fear) Tyrwhitt. I have done this reading the justice to place it in the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 157 5To sound the purposes &lblank;] To declare, to publish the desires of all those. Johnson.

Note return to page 158 6&lblank; good exercise:] In the middle ages the whole education of princes and noble youths consisted in martial exercises, &c. These could not be easily had in a prison, where mental improvements might have been afforded as well as any where else; but this sort of education never entered into the thoughts of our active, warlike, but illiterate nobility. Percy.

Note return to page 159 7Between his purpose and his conscience,] Between his consciousness of guilt, and his design to conceal it by fair professions. Johnson.

Note return to page 160 8Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set:] But heralds are not planted, I presume, in the midst betwixt two lines of battle; though they, and trumpets, are often sent over from party to party, to propose terms, demand a parley, &c. I have therefore ventured to read, sent. Theobald. This Dr. Warburton has followed without much advantage; set is not fixed, but only placed; heralds must be set between the battles in order to be sent between them. Johnson.

Note return to page 161 9And, when it breaks, &lblank;] This is but an indelicate metaphor, taken from an impostumated tumour. Johnson.

Note return to page 162 1From France to England. &lblank;] The king asks how all goes in France, the messenger catches the word goes, and answers, that whatever is in France goes now into England. Johnson.

Note return to page 163 2Deliver him to safety, &lblank;] That is, Give him into safe custody. Johnson.

Note return to page 164 3&lblank; five moons were seen to-night, &c.] This incident is mentioned by few of our historians: I have met with it no where, but in Matthew of Westminster and Polydore Virgil, with a small alteration. These kind of appearances were more common about that time, than either before or since. Gray. This incident is likewise mentioned in the spurious copy of the play. Steevens.

Note return to page 165 4&lblank; slippers (which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet)] I know not how the commentators understand this important passage, which in Dr. Warburton's edition is marked as eminently beautiful, and, on the whole, not without justice. But Shakespeare seems to have confounded the man's shoes with his gloves. He that is frighted or hurried may put his hand into the wrong glove, but either shoe will equally admit either foot. The author seems to be disturbed by the disorder which he describes. Johnson. Dr. Johnson forgets that ancient slippers might possibly be very different from modern ones. Scott in his Discoverie of Witchcraft tells us: “He that receiveth a mischance, will consider, whether he put not on his shirt the wrong side outwards, or his left shoe on his right foot.” One of the jests of Scogan by Andrew Borde, is how he defrauded two shoemakers, one of a right foot boot, and the other of a left foot one. And Davies in one of his epigrams, compares a man to “a soft-knit hose that serves each leg.” Farmer. In the Fleire, 1615, is the following passage: “&lblank; This fellow is like your upright shoe, he will serve either foot.” From this we may infer that some shoes could only be worn on that foot for which they were made. And Barrett in his Alvearie, 1580, as an instance of the word wrong, says: “&lblank; to put on his shooes wrong.” Again, in A merye Jest of a Man that was called Howleglas, bl. l. no date: “Howleglas had cut all the lether for the lefte foote. Then when his master sawe all his lether cut for the lefte foote, then asked he Howleglas if there belonged not to the lefte foote a right foote. Then sayd Howleglas to his maister, If that he had tolde that to me before, I would have cut them, but an it please you I shall cut as mani right shoone unto them.” Steevens. See Martin's Description of the Western Islands of Scotland, 1703, p. 207: “The generality now only wear shoes having one thin sole only, and shaped after the right and left foot, so that what is for one foot will not serve the other.” The meaning seems to be, that the extremities of the shoes were not round or square, but were cut in an oblique angle, or aslant from the great toe to the little one. See likewise, the Philosophical Transactions abridged, vol. III. p. 432, and vol. VII. p. 23, where are exhibited shoes and sandals shaped to the feet, spreading more to the outside than the inside. Tollet.

Note return to page 166 5It is the curse of kings, &c.] This plainly hints at Davison's case, in the affair of Mary queen of Scots, and so must have been inserted long after the first representation. Warburton. That the allusion mentioned by Dr. Warburton, was intended by Shakespeare, is highly probable.—But why need we suppose this passage added after the piece was finished? The queen of Scots was beheaded in 1587, some years, according to the best account, before our author had produced any play on the stage. Malone.

Note return to page 167 6Quoted, &lblank;] i. e. observed, distinguish'd. So, in Hamlet: “I am sorry, that with better heed and judgment “I had not quoted him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 168 7Hadst thou but shook thy head, &c.] There are many touches of nature in this conference of John with Hubert. A man engaged in wickedness would keep the profit to himself, and transfer the guilt to his accomplice. These reproaches vented against Hubert are not the words of art or policy, but the eruptions of a mind swelling with consciousness of a crime, and desirous of discharging its misery on another. This account of the timidity of guilt is drawn ab ipsis recessibus mentis, from the intimate knowledge of mankind, particularly that line in which he says, that to have bid him tell his tale in express words, would have struck him dumb; nothing is more certain, than that bad men use all the arts of fallacy upon themselves, palliate their actions to their own minds by gentle terms, and hide themselves from their own detection in ambiguities and subterfuges. Johnson.

Note return to page 169 8The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,] Nothing can be falser than what Hubert here says in his own vindication; yet it was the poet's purpose that he should speak truth; for we find, from a preceding scene, the motion of a murd'rous thought had entered into him, and that very deeply: and it was with difficulty that the tears, the intreaties, and the innocence of Arthur had diverted and suppressed it. Nor is the expression, in this reading, at all exact, it not being the necessary quality of a murd'rous thought to be dreadful, affrighting, or terrible: for it being commonly excited by the flattering views of interest, pleasure, or revenge, the mind is often too much taken up with those ideas to attend, steadily, to the consequences. We must conclude therefore that Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; a murderer's thought. And this makes Hubert speak truth, as the poet intended he should. He had not committed the murder, and consequently the motion of a murderer's thought had never entered his bosom. And in this reading, the epithet dreadful is admirably just, and in nature. For after the perpetration of the fact, the appetites, that hurried their owner to it, lose their force; and nothing succeeds to take possession of the mind, but a dreadful consciousness, that torments the murderer without respite or intermission. Warburton. I do not see any thing in this change worth the vehemence with which it is recommended. Read the line either way, the sense is nearly the same, nor does Hubert tell truth in either reading when he charges John with slandering his form. He that could once intend to burn out the eyes of a captive prince, had a mind not too fair for the rudest form. Johnson.

Note return to page 170 9The spurious play is divided into two parts, the first of which concludes with the king's dispatch of Hubert on this message; the second begins with “Enter Arthur, &c.” as in the following scene. Steevens.

Note return to page 171 1Whose private &c.] i. e. whose private account of the Dauphin's affection to our cause, is much more ample than the letters. Pope.

Note return to page 172 2&lblank; or e'er we meet.] This phrase, so frequent in our old writers, is not well understood. Or is here the same as ere, i. e. before, and should be written (as it is still pronounced in Shropshire) ore. There the common people use it often. Thus, they say, Ore to-morrow, for ere or before to-morrow. The addition of ever, or e'er, is merely augmentative. That or has the full sense of before; and that e'er when joined with it is merely augmentative, is proved from innumerable passages in our ancient writers, wherein or occurs simply without e'er, and must bear that signification. Thus, in the old tragedy of Master Arden of Feversham, 1599, quarto, (attributed by some, though falsely, to Shakespeare) the wife says: “He shall be murdered or the guests come in.” Sig. H. B. III. Percy. So, in All for Money, an old Morality, 1574: “I could sit in the cold a good while I swear, “Or I would be weary such suitors to hear.” Again, in Every Man, another Morality, no date: “As, or we departe, thou shalt know.” Again, in the interlude of the Disobedient Child, black letter, no date: “To send for victuals or I came away.” That or should be written ore, I am by no means convinced. The vulgar pronounciation of a particular county, ought not to be received as a general guide. Ere is nearer the Saxon primitive, ær. Steevens.

Note return to page 173 3&lblank; reason now.] To reason, in Shakespeare, is not so often to argue, as to talk. Johnson. So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; reason with the fellow, “Before you punish him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 174 4&lblank; a holy vow; Never to taste the pleasures of the world,] This is a copy of the vows made in the ages of superstition and chivalry. Johnson.

Note return to page 175 5&lblank; the worship of revenge.] The worship is the dignity, the honour. We still say worshipful of magistrates. Johnson. 'Till I have set a glory to this hand, By giving it the worship of revenge.] I think it should be—a glory to this head—Pointing to the dead prince, and using the word worship in its common acceptation. A glory is a frequent term: “Round a quaker's beaver cast a glory,” says Mr. Pope: the solemn confirmation of the other lords seems to require this sense. The late Mr. Gray was much pleased with this correction. Farmer. The old reading seems right to me, and means,—'till I have famed and renowned my own hand by giving it the honour of revenge for so foul a deed. Glory means splendor and magnificence in saint Matthew, vi. 29. So, in Markham's Husbandry, 1631, p. 353: “But if it be where the tide is scant, and doth no more but bring the river to a glory,” i. e. fills the banks without overflowing. So, in act II. sc. ii. of this play: “Oh, two such silver currents, when they join, “Do glorify the banks that bound them in.” A thought almost similar to the present, occurs in Ben Jonson's Catiline, who, act IV. sc. iv. says to Cethegus: “When we meet again we'll sacrifice to liberty. Cet. And revenge. That we may praise our hands once!” i. e. Oh! that we may set a glory, or procure honour and praise, to our hands, which are the instruments of action. Tollet.

Note return to page 176 6&lblank; true defence;] Honest defence; defence in a good cause. Johnson.

Note return to page 177 7Do not prove me so; Yet, I am none: &lblank;] Do not make me a murderer by compelling me to kill you; I am hitherto not a murderer. Johnson.

Note return to page 178 8&lblank; your toasting-iron,] The same thought is found in K. Hen. V: “I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? it will toast cheese.” Steevens.

Note return to page 179 9There is not yet &c.] I remember once to have met with a book, printed in the time of Henry VIII. (which Shakespeare possibly might have seen) where we are told that the deformity of the condemned in the other world is exactly proportioned to the degrees of their guilt. The author of it observes how difficult it would be, on this account, to distinguish between Belzebub and Judas Iscariot. Steevens.

Note return to page 180 1The un-owed interest &lblank;] i. e. the interest which has no proper owner to claim it. Steevens.

Note return to page 181 2The imminent decay of wrested pomp.] Wrested pomp is greatness obtained by violence. Johnson.

Note return to page 182 3&lblank; and cincture &lblank;] The old copy reads—center, probably for ceinture. Fr. Steevens.

Note return to page 183 4&lblank; a gentle convertite,] A convertite is a convert. So, in Marlow's Jew of Malta, 1633: “No, governour, I'll be no convertite.” Steevens.

Note return to page 184 5&lblank; Forage, and run] To forage is here used in its original sense, for to range abroad. Johnson.

Note return to page 185 6Mocking the air with colours &lblank;] He has the same image in Macbeth: “Where the Norwegian banners flout the sky, “And fan our people cold.” Johnson.9Q0618

Note return to page 186 7Away then, with good courage; yet I know, Our party may well meet a prouder foe.] Let us then away with courage; yet I so well know the faintness of our party, that I think it may easily happen that they shall encounter enemies who have more spirit than themselves. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is, I believe, mistaken. Faulconbridge means; for all their boasting I know very well that our party is able to cope with one yet prouder and more confident of its strength than theirs. Faulconbridge would otherwise dispirit the king, whom he means to animate. Steevens.

Note return to page 187 8&lblank; at St. Edmund's-bury.] I have ventured to fix the place of the scene here, which is specified by none of the editors, on the following authorities. In the preceding act, where Salisbury has fixed to go over to the Dauphin; he says: Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmund's-bury. And count Melun, in this last act, says: &lblank; and many more with me, Upon the altar at St. Edmund's-bury; Even on that altar, where we swore to you Dear amity, and everlasting love. And it appears likewise from The Troublesome Reign of King John, in two parts, (the first rough model of this play) that the interchange of vows betwixt the Dauphin and the English barons, was at St. Edmund's-bury. Theobald.

Note return to page 188 9&lblank; the precedent, &c.] i. e. the original treaty between the Dauphin and the English lords. Steevens.

Note return to page 189 1And grapple thee &c.] The old copy reads: And cripple thee, &c. Perhaps our author wrote gripple, a word used by Drayton in his Polyolbion, song I: “That thrusts his gripple hand into her golden maw.” Steevens.

Note return to page 190 2Between compulsion, and a brave respect!] This compulsion was the necessity of a reformation in the state; which, according to Salisbury's opinion (who, in his speech preceding, calls it an enforced cause) could only be procured by foreign arms: and the brave respect was the love of his country. Yet the Oxford editor, for compulsion, reads compassion. Warburton.

Note return to page 191 3&lblank; an angel spake:] Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton read here:—an angel speeds. I think unnecessarily. The Dauphin does not yet hear the legate indeed, nor pretend to hear him; but seeing him advance, and concluding that he comes to animate and authorize him with the power of the church, he cries out, at the sight of this holy man, I am encouraged as by the voice of an angel. Johnson.

Note return to page 192 4&lblank; as I have bank'd their towns?] Bank'd their towns may mean, thrown up entrenchments before their towns. The spurious play of K. John, however, leaves this interpretation extremely disputable. It appears from thence that these salutations were given to the Dauphin as he sailed along the banks of the river. This I suppose Shakespeare calls banking the towns.   “&lblank; from the hollow holes of Thamesis “Echo apace replied, Vive le roy! “From thence along the wanton rolling glade, “To Troynovant, your fair metropolis.” We still say to coast and to flank; and to bank has no less of propriety, though it is not reconciled to us by modern usage. Steevens.

Note return to page 193 5This unheard sawciness, and boyish troops,] Thus the printed copies in general; but unheard is an epithet of very little force or meaning here; besides, let us observe how it is coupled. Faulconbridge is sneering at the Dauphin's invasion, as an unadvised enterprize, savouring of youth and indiscretion; the result of childishness, and unthinking rashness; and he seems altogether to dwell on this character of it, by calling his preparation boyish troops, dwarfish war, pigmy arms, &c. which, according to my emendation, sort very well with unhair'd, i. e. unbearded sawciness. Theobald. Yet another reading might be recommended: This unair'd sawciness, &lblank; i. e. untravelled rudeness. In this sense the word is used in the Queen of Corinth, by B. and Fletcher:   “&lblank; 'tis a main posture, “And to all unair'd gentlemen will betray you.” Again, in the Winter's Tale: “&lblank; though I have been, for the most part, aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 194 6&lblank; take the hatch;] To take the hatch, is to leap the hatch. To take a hedge or a ditch is the hunter's phrase. Steevens.9Q0619

Note return to page 195 7&lblank; like an eagle o'er his aiery towers,] An aiery is the nest of an eagle. So, in K. Richard III: “Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top.” Steevens.

Note return to page 196 8Their needles to lances, &lblank;] Here we should read neelds, as in the Midsummer Night's Dream: “Have with our neelds created both one flower.” Fairfax has the same contraction of the word. Steevens.

Note return to page 197 9&lblank; Richard &lblank;] Sir Richard Faulconbridge;—and yet the king a little before (act III. sc. ii.) calls him by his original name of Philip. Steevens.

Note return to page 198 1Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,] Though all the copies concur in this reading, how poor is the metaphor of unthreading the eye of a needle? And besides, as there is no mention made of a needle, how remote and obscure is the allusion without it? The text, as I have restored it, is easy and natural; and it is the mode of expression, which our author is every where fond of, to tread and untread, the way, path, steps, &c. Theobald. The metaphor is certainly harsh, but I do not think the passage corrupted. Johnson. Shakespeare elsewhere uses the same expression, threading dark ey'd night. Steevens.

Note return to page 199 2&lblank; even as a form of wax] This is said in allusion to the images made by witches. Holinshed observes that it was alledged against dame Eleanor Cobham and her confederates, “that they had devised an image of wax, representing the king, which by their sorcerie by little and little consumed, intending thereby in conclusion to waste and destroy the king's person.” Steevens.

Note return to page 200 3&lblank; rated treachery,] It were easy to change rated to hated for an easier meaning, but rated suits better with fine. The Dauphin has rated your treachery, and set upon it a fine which your lives must pay. Johnson.

Note return to page 201 4Right in thine eye. &lblank;] This is the old reading. Right signifies immediate. It is now obsolete. Some of the modern editors read, pight, i. e. pitched as a tent is; others, fight in thine eye. Steevens.

Note return to page 202 5&lblank; happy newness, &c.] Happy innovation, that purposed the restoration of the ancient rightful government. Johnson.

Note return to page 203 6&lblank; tatter'd &lblank;] For tatter'd, the folio reads tottering. Johnson. It is remarkable through such old copies of our author as I have hitherto seen, that wherever the modern editors read tatter'd, the old editions give us totter'd in its room. Perhaps the present broad pronunciation, almost particular to the Scots, was at that time common to both nations. So, in Marlow's K. Edward II. 1622: “This tottered ensign of my ancestors.” Again: “As doth this water from my totter'd robes.” So, in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “I will not bid my ensign-bearer wave “My totter'd colours in this worthless air.” Steevens. So, in the Alarum for London, 1602: “&lblank; lug'd and torn “By lowzie totter'd rogues.” So, in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion, 1657: “&lblank; a tomb hung round “With totter'd colours.” Malone.

Note return to page 204 7&lblank; thou, and endless night,] We should read, eyeless. So, Pindar calls the moon, the eye of night. Warburton. This epithet I find in Jarvis Markham's English Arcadia, 1607: “O eyeless night, the portraiture of death!” Again, in Gower De Confessione Amantis, lib. v. fol. 102. b: “The daie made ende, and loste his sight, “And comen was the darke night, “The whiche all the daies eie blent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 205 8Leaves them: invisible his siege is now, Against the mind, &lblank;] Thus the old copy, except that it reads:—invisible and &c. Modern editors read, without authority, Leaves them insensible: &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 206 9&lblank; in their throng and press &lblank;] In their tumult and hurry of resorting to the last tenable part. Johnson.

Note return to page 207 1This scene has been imitated by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Wife for a Month, act IV. Steevens.

Note return to page 208 2To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;] Deckar, in the Gul's Hornbook, 1609, has the same thought: “—the morning waxing cold, thrust his frosty fingers into thy bosome.” Steevens. There is so strong a resemblance not only in the thought, but in the expression, between these lines and a passage in Marlow's Lust's Dominion, that we may fairly suppose an imitation; but which of the two poets borrowed from the other, it is not easy to determine: “Oh I am dull, and the cold hand of sleep “Hath thrust his icy fingers in my breast, “And made a frost within me.” Lust's Dominion, like many of the plays of that time, remained unpublished for a great number of years, and was first printed in 1657, by one Kirkman. Malone.9Q0622

Note return to page 209 3If England to itself do rest but true.] This sentiment is borrowed from the conclusion of the old spurious play: “If England's peers and people join in one, “Nor pope, nor France, nor Spain, can do them wrong.” Steevens.9Q0624 The tragedy of King John, though not written with the utmost power of Shakespeare, is varied with a very pleasing interchange of incidents and characters. The lady's grief is very affecting; and the character of the bastard contains that mixture of greatness and levity which this author delighted to exhibit. Johnson. There is extant another play of King John, published in 1611. Shakespeare has preserved the greatest part of the conduct of it, as well as some of the lines. A few of these I have pointed out in the notes, and others I have omitted as undeserving notice. What most inclines me to believe it was the work of some contemporary writer, is the number of quotations from Horace, and similar scraps of learning scattered over it. There is likewise a quantity of rhiming Latin, and ballad-metre, in a scene where the Bastard is represented as plundering a monastery; and some strokes of humour, which seem, from their particular turn, to have been most evidently produced by another hand than that of Shakespeare. Of this historical drama there is said to have been an edition in 1591 for Sampson Clarke, but I have never seen it; and the copy in 1611, which is the oldest I could find, was printed for John Helme, whose name appears before no other of the pieces of Shakespeare. I admitted this play some years ago as our author's own, among the twenty which I published from the old editions; but a more careful perusal of it, and a further conviction of his custom of borrowing plots, sentiments, &c. disposes me to recede from that opinion. Steevens.

Note return to page 210 1Duke of Aumerle, &lblank;] Aumerle, or Aumale, is the French for what we now call Albemarle, which is a town in Normandy. The old historians generally use the French title. Steevens.

Note return to page 211 2Earl Berkley.] It ought to be Lord Berkley. There was no Earl Berkley 'till some ages after. Steevens.

Note return to page 212 3Lord Ross.] Now spelt Roos, one of the duke of Rutland's titles. Steevens.

Note return to page 213 4The Life and Death of King Richard II.] But this history comprises little more than the two last years of this prince. The action of the drama begins with Bolingbroke's appealing the duke of Norfolk, on an accusation of high treason, which fell out in the year 1398; and it closes with the murder of king Richard at Pomfret-castle towards the end of the year 1400, or the beginning of the ensuing year. Theobald. It is evident from a passage in Camden's Annals, that there was an old play on the subject of Richard the Second; but I know not in what language. Sir Gelley Merrick, who was concerned in the hare-brained business of the earl of Essex, and was hanged for it, with the ingenious Cuffe, in 1601, is accused, amongst other things, “quod exoletam tragœdiam de tragicâ abdicatione regis Ricardi Secundi in publico theatro coram conjuratis datâ pecuniâ agi curasset.” I have since met with a passage in my lord Bacon, which proves this play to have been in English. It is in the arraignments of Cuffe and Merick, vol. IV. p. 412. of Mallet's edition: “The afternoon before the rebellion, Merick, with a great company of others, that afterwards were all in the action, had procured to be played before them the play of deposing king Richard the Second;—when it was told him by one of the players, that the play was old, and they should have less in playing it, because few would come to it, there was forty shillings extraordinary given to play, and so thereupon played it was.” It may be worth enquiry, whether some of the rhyming parts of the present play, which Mr. Pope thought of a different hand, might not be borrowed from the old one. Certainly however, the general tendency of it must have been very different; since, as Dr. Johnson observes, there are some expressions in this of Shakespeare, which strongly inculcate the doctrine of indefeasible right. Farmer. [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0625 This play of Shakespeare was first entered at Stationers' Hall by Andrew Wise, Aug. 29, 1597. Steevens.

Note return to page 214 5&lblank; thy oath and band,] When these public challenges were accepted, each combatant found a pledge for his appearance at the time and place appointed. So, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iv. c. 3. st. 3: “The day was set, that all might understand, “And pledges pawn'd the same to keep aright.” The old copies read band instead of bond. The former is right. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “My master is arrested on a band.” Steevens.

Note return to page 215 6&lblank; right-drawn &lblank;] Drawn in a right or just cause. Johnson.

Note return to page 216 7&lblank; inhabitable,] That is, not habitable, uninhabitable. Johnson. Ben Jonson uses the word in the same sense in his Catiline: “And pour'd on some inhabitable place.” Steevens. So, in Brathwaite's Survey of Histories, 1614: “Others, in imitation of some valiant knights, have frequented desarts and inhabited provinces, echoing in every place their own vanities, endorsing their names on the barkes of trees.” Malone.

Note return to page 217 8And when I mount, alive may I not light,] The quartos 1608, and 1615, read: And when I mount alive, alive, may I not light. Steevens.

Note return to page 218 9&lblank; that can inherit us &c.] To inherit is no more than to possess, though such a use of the word may be peculiar to Shakespeare. Again, in Romeo and Juliet, act I. sc. ii: “&lblank; such delight “Among fresh female buds shall you this night “Inherit at my house.” Steevens.9Q0627

Note return to page 219 1&lblank; my scepter's awe &lblank;] The reverence due to my scepter. Johnson.

Note return to page 220 2This we prescribe, though no physician; &c.] I must make one remark, in general, on the rhymes throughout this whole play; they are so much inferior to the rest of the writing, that they appear to me of a different hand. What confirms this, is, that the context does every where exactly (and frequently much better) connect without the inserted rhymes, except in a very few places; and just there too, the rhyming verses are of a much better taste than all the others, which rather strengthens my conjecture. Pope. “This observation of Mr. Pope's,” says Mr. Edwards, “happens to be very unluckily placed here, because the context, without the inserted rhimes, will not connect at all. Read this passage as it would stand corrected by this rule, and we shall find, when the rhiming part of the dialogue is left out, king Richard begins with dissuading them from the duel, and, in the very next sentence, appoints the time and place of their combat.” Mr. Edwards's censure is rather hasty; for in the note, to which it refers, it is allowed that some rhimes must be retained to make out the connection. Steevens.

Note return to page 221 3When, Harry? &lblank;] This obsolete exclamation of impatience, is likewise found in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “Fly into Affrick; from the mountains there, “Chuse me two venomous serpents: thou shalt know them “By their fell poison and their fierce aspect. “When, Iris? “Iris. I am gone.” Again, in Look about you, 1600: “&lblank; I'll cut off thy legs, “If thou delay thy duty. When, proud John?” Steevens.

Note return to page 222 4&lblank; no boot.] That is, no advantage, no use, in delay or refusal. Johnson.

Note return to page 223 5&lblank; my fair name, &c.] That is, my name that lives on my grave in despight of death. This easy passage most of the editors seem to have mistaken. Johnson.

Note return to page 224 6&lblank; and baffled here;] Baffled in this place means treated with the greatest ignominy imaginable. So, Holinshed, vol. III. p. 827, and 1218, or annis 1513, and 1570, explains it: “Bafulling, says he, is a great disgrace among the Scots, and it is used when a man is openlie perjured, and then they make of him an image painted, reversed, with his heels upward, with his name, woondering, crieing, and blowing out of him with horns.” Spenser's Faery Queen, b. v. c. 3. st. 37; and b. vi. c. 7. st. 27. has the word in the same signification. Tollet. The same expression occurs again in Twelfth Night, sc. ult. “Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee?” Again, in K. Hen. IV. P. I. act I. sc. ii: “&lblank; an I do not, call me villain, and baffle me.” Again, in The London Prodigal, 1605: “&lblank; chil be abaffelled up and down the town, for a messel.” i. e. for a beggar, or rather a leper. Steevens.

Note return to page 225 7Or with pale beggar face &lblank;] i. e. with a face of supplication. But this will not satisfy the Oxford editor, he turns it to beggard fear. Warburton. &lblank; beggar fear is the reading of the first folio and one of the quartos. Steevens.

Note return to page 226 8The slavish motive &lblank;] Motive, for instrument. Warburton. Rather that which fear puts in motion. Johnson.

Note return to page 227 9Justice decide &lblank;] The old copies concur in reading—Justice design. Mr. Pope made the alteration, which may be unnecessary. Designo, Lat. signifies to mark out, to point out: “Notat designatque oculis ad cædem unumquemque nostrum.” Cicero in Catilinam. Steevens.

Note return to page 228 1&lblank; the part I had &lblank;] That is, my relation of consanguinity to Gloster. Hanmer.

Note return to page 229 2&lblank; in Gloster's blood] The three elder quartos read:—in Woodstock's blood. Steevens.

Note return to page 230 3One phial &c.] Though all the old copies concur in the present regulation of the following lines, I would rather read: One phial full of Edward's sacred blood Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spill'd; One flourishing branch of his most royal root Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded. Some of the old copies in this instance, as in many others, read vaded, a mode of spelling practised by several of our ancient writers. After all, I believe the transposition to be needless. Steevens.

Note return to page 231 4&lblank; may I complain myself?] To complain is commonly a verb neuter, but it is here used as a verb active. Dryden employs the word in the same sense in his Fables: “Gaufride, who couldst so well in rhime complain “The death of Richard with an arrow slain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 232 5A caitiff recreant &lblank;] Caitiff originally signified a prisoner; next a slave, from the condition of prisoners; then a scoundrel, from the qualities of a slave. &grH;&grm;&gri;&grs;&gru; &grt;&grhc;&grst; &gras;&grr;&gre;&grt;&grhc;&grst; &gra;&grp;&gro;&gra;&gria;&grn;&gru;&grt;&gra;&grn; &grd;&gro;&grua;&grl;&gri;&gro;&grn; &grhc;&grm;&gra;&grr;. In this passage it partakes of all these significations. Johnson. I do not believe that caitiff in our language ever signified a prisoner. I take it to be derived, not from captif, but from chetif, Fr. poor, miserable. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 233 6&lblank; unfurnish'd walls,] In our ancient castles the naked stone walls were only covered with tapestry, or arras, hung upon tenter hooks, from which it was easily taken down on every removal of the family. See the Preface to the Household Book of the Fifth Earl of Northumberland, begun in 1512. Steevens.

Note return to page 234 7And so &lblank;] The old copies read: As so&lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 235 8Mowbray. &lblank;] Mr. Edwards, in his MS. notes, observes, both from Matthew Paris and Holinshed, that the duke of Hereford, appellant, entered the lists first; and this indeed must have been the regular method of the combat; for the natural order of things requires, that the accuser or challenger should be at the place of appointment first. Steevens.

Note return to page 236 9&lblank; his succeeding issue,] Such is the reading of the first folio; the later editions read my issue. Mowbray's issue, was by this accusation, in danger of an attainder, and therefore he might come, among other reasons, for their sake: but the old reading is more just and grammatical. Johnson. The three oldest quartos read my. Steevens.

Note return to page 237 1&lblank; waxen coat,] Waxen may mean either soft, and consequently penetrable, or flexible. The brigandines or coats of mail, then in use, were composed of small pieces of steel quilted over one another, and yet so flexible as to accommodate the dress they form, to every motion of the body. Of these many are to be seen in the Tower of London. Steevens.

Note return to page 238 2And furbish &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1615. The folio reads: —furnish. Either word will do, as to furnish in the time of Shakespeare signified to dress. So, twice in As you like it:—“furnished like a huntsman.” “—furnished like a beggar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 239 3This feast of battle &lblank;] “War is death's feast,” is a proverbial saying. See Ray's Collection. Steevens.

Note return to page 240 4As gentle and as jocund, as to jest,] Not so neither. We should read, to just; i. e. to tilt or tourney, which was a kind of sport too. Warburton. The sense would perhaps have been better if the author had written what his commentator substitutes; but the rhyme, to which sense is too often enslaved, obliged Shakespeare to write jest, and obliges us to read it. Johnson. The commentators forget that to jest sometimes signifies in old language to play a part in a mask. Thus, in Hieronymo: “He promised us in honour of our guest, “To grace our banquet with some pompous jest.” and accordingly a mask is performed. Farmer. Mr. Farmer has well explained the force of this word. So, in the third part of K. Henry VI: “&lblank; as if the tragedy “Were play'd in jest by counterfeited actors.” Tollet.

Note return to page 241 5&lblank; hath thrown his warder down.] A warder appears to have been a kind of truncheon carried by the person who presided at these single combats. So, in Daniel's Civil Wars &c. b. i: “When lo, the king suddenly chang'd his mind “Casts down his warder to arrest them there.” Steevens.

Note return to page 242 6And for we think, the eagle-winged pride &c.] These five verses are omitted in the other editions, and restored from the first of 1598. Pope.

Note return to page 243 7To wake our peace, &lblank; Which thus rouz'd up &lblank; Might fright fair peace,] Thus the sentence stands in the common reading, absurdly enough; which made the Oxford editor, instead of fright fair peace, read, be affrighted; as if these latter words could ever, possibly, have been blundered into the former by transcribers. But his business is to alter as his fancy leads him, not to reform errors, as the text and rules of criticism direct. In a word then, the true original of the blunder was this; the editors before Mr. Pope had taken their editions from the folios, in which the text stood thus: &lblank; the dire aspect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour swords; Which thus rouz'd up &lblank; &lblank; fright fair peace. This is sense. But Mr. Pope, who carefully examined the first printed plays in quarto (very much to the advantage of his edition) coming to this place, found five lines, in the first edition of this play printed in 1598, omitted in the first general collection of the poet's works; and, not enough attending to their agreement with the common text, put them into their place. Whereas, in truth, the five lines were omitted by Shakespeare himself, as not agreeing to the rest of the context; which, on revise, he thought fit to alter. On this account I have put them into hooks, not as spurious, but as rejected on the author's revise; and, indeed, with great judgment; for, To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep, as pretty as it is in the image, is absurd in the sense: for peace awake is still peace, as well as when asleep. The difference is, that peace asleep gives one the notion of a happy people sunk in sloth and luxury, which is not the idea the speaker would raise, and from which state the sooner it was awaked the better. Warburton. To this note, written with such an appearance of taste and judgment, I am afraid every reader will not subscribe. It is true, that peace awake is still peace, as well as when asleep; but peace awakened by the tumults of these jarring nobles, and peace indulging in profound tranquillity, convey images sufficiently opposed to each other for the poet's purpose. To wake peace is to introduce discord. Peace asleep, is peace exerting its natural influence, from which it would be frighted by the clamours of war. Steevens.

Note return to page 244 8The fly-slow hours &lblank;] The old copies read: The sly slow hours. Mr. Pope made the change; whether it was necessary or not, let the poetical reader determine. Steevens.

Note return to page 245 9A dearer merit, not so deep a maim Have I deserved &lblank;] To deserve a merit is a phrase of which I know not any example. I wish some copy would exhibit: A dearer mede, and not so deep a maim. To deserve a mede or reward, is regular and easy. Johnson.

Note return to page 246 1&lblank; compassionate:] for plaintive. Warburton.

Note return to page 247 2(Our part &c.] It is a question much debated amongst the writers of the law of nations, whether a banish'd man may be still tied in allegiance to the state which sent him into exile. Tully and lord chancellor Clarendon declare for the affirmative: Hobbes and Pussendorf hold the negative. Our author, by this line, seems to be of the same opinion. Warburton.

Note return to page 248 3Norfolk—so far, &c.] I do not clearly see what is the sense of this abrupt line; but suppose the meaning to be this. Hereford immediately after his oath of perpetual enmity addresses Norfolk, and, fearing some misconstruction, turns to the king and says—so far as to mine enemy—that is, I should say nothing to him but what enemies may say to each other. Reviewing this passage, I rather think it should be understood thus. Norfolk, so far I have addressed myself to thee as to mine enemy, I now utter my last words with kindness and tenderness, Confess thy treasons. Johnson. All the old copies read: so fare. Steevens. &lblank; so fare, as to mine enemy; &lblank;] i. e. he only wishes him to fare like his enemy, and he disdains to say fare well as Aumerle does in the next scene. Tollet.

Note return to page 249 4&lblank; all the world's my way.] Perhaps Milton had this in his mind when he wrote these lines: “The world was all before them, where to chuse “Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.” Johnson.

Note return to page 250 5And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow:] It is matter of very melancholy consideration, that all human advantages confer more power of doing evil than good. Johnson.

Note return to page 251 6O, had it been a stranger, &lblank;] This couplet is wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 252 7A partial slander &lblank;] That is, the reproach of partiality. This is a just picture of the struggle between principle and affection. Johnson. This couplet, which is wanting in the folio edition, is arbitrarily placed by the modern editors at the conclusion of Gaunt's speech. In the three oldest quartos it follows the fifth line of it. In the fourth quarto, which seems copied from the folio, the passage is omitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 253 8Boiling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make] This, and the six verses which follow, I have ventured to supply from the old quarto. The allusion, it is true, to an apprenticeship, and becoming a journeyman, is not in the sublime taste; nor, as Horace has expressed it, “spirat tragicum satis:” however, as there is no doubt of the passage being genuine, the lines are not so despicable as to deserve being quite lost. Theobald.

Note return to page 254 9&lblank; journeyman to grief?] I am afraid our author in this place designed a very poor quibble, as journey signifies both travel and a day's work. However, he is not to be censured for what he himself rejected. Johnson. The quarto, in which these lines are found, is said in its titlepage to have been corrected by the author; and the play is indeed more accurately printed than most of the other single copies. There is now however no certain method of knowing by whom the rejection was made. Steevens.

Note return to page 255 1All places that the eye of heaven visits, &c.] The fourteen verses that follow are found in the first edition. Pope. I am inclined to believe, that what Mr. Theobald and Mr. Pope have restored were expunged in the revision by the author: if these lines are omitted, the sense is more coherent. Nothing is more frequent among dramatic writers, than to shorten their dialogues for the stage. Johnson.

Note return to page 256 2Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand, &c.] It has been remarked, that there is a passage resembling this in Tully's Fifth Book of Tusculan Questions. Speaking of Epicurus, he says:— “Sed unâ se dicit recordatione acquiescere præteritarum voluptatum: ut si quis æstuans, cum vim caloris non facile patiatur, recordari velit se aliquando in Arpinati nostro gelidis fluminibus circumfusum fuisse. Non enim video, quomodo sedare possint mala præsentia præteritæ voluptates.” The Tuscalan Questions of Cicero had been translated early enough for Shakespeare to have seen them. Steevens.

Note return to page 257 3&lblank; yet a true-born Englishman.] Here the first act ought to end, that between the first and second acts there may be time for John of Gaunt to accompany his son, return, and fall sick. Then the first scene of the second act begins with a natural conversation, interrupted by a message from John of Gaunt, by which the king is called to visit him, which visit is paid in the following scene. As the play is now divided, more time passes between the two last scenes of the first act, than between the first act and the second. Johnson.

Note return to page 258 4Expedient &lblank;] Is expeditious. Steevens.

Note return to page 259 5Here the three elder quartos add—Amen. Steevens.

Note return to page 260 6&lblank; at the close,] This I suppose to be a musical term. So, in Lingua, 1607: “I dare engage my ears, the close will jar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 261 7Lascivious meeters; &lblank;] I believe we should read metres for verses. Thus the folio spells the word metre in the first part of K. Henry IV: “&lblank; one of these same meeter ballad-mongers.” Venom'd sound agrees well with lascivious ditties; but not so commodiously with one who meets another; in which sense the word appears to have been generally received. Steevens.

Note return to page 262 8Report of fashions in proud Italy;] Our author, who gives to all nations the customs of England, and to all ages the manners of his own, has charged the times of Richard with a folly not perhaps known then, but very frequent in Shakespeare's time, and much lamented by the wisest and best of our ancestors. Johnson.

Note return to page 263 9Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.] Where the will rebels against the notices of the understanding. Johnson.

Note return to page 264 1&lblank; whose way himself will chuse;] Do not attempt to guide him who, whatever thou shalt say, will take his own course. Johnson.

Note return to page 265 2&lblank; rash &lblank;] That is, hasty, violent. Johnson.

Note return to page 266 3Against infection, &lblank;] I once suspected that for infection we might read invasion; but the copies all agree, and I suppose Shakespeare meant to say, that islanders are secured by their situation both from war and pestilence. Johnson. Against infection, and the hand of war;] In Allot's England's Parnassus, 1600, this passage is quoted. “Against intestion, &c.” perhaps the word might be infestion, if such a word was in use. Farmer.

Note return to page 267 4&lblank; less happier lands;] So read all the editions, except Hanmer's, which has less happy. I believe Shakespeare, from the habit of saying more happier according to the custom of his time, inadvertently writ less happier. Johnson.

Note return to page 268 5Fear'd for their breed, and famous by their birth,] The first edition in quarto, 1598, reads: Fear'd by their breed, and famous for their birth. The second quarto, in 1615: Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth. The first folio, though printed from the second quarto, reads as the first. The particles in this author seem often to have been printed by chance. Perhaps the passage, which appears a little disordered, may be regulated thus: &lblank; royal kings, Fear'd for their breed, and famous for their birth, For Christian service, and true chivalry; Renowned for their deeds as far from home As is the sepulchre. Johnson. The first folio could not have been printed from the second quarto, on account of many variations as well as omissions. The quarto 1608 has the same reading with that immediately preceding it. Steevens.9Q0632

Note return to page 269 6&lblank; rotten parchment bonds;] Alluding to the great sums raised by loans and other exactions, in this reign, upon the English subjects. Gray.

Note return to page 270 7Thy state of law is bond-slave to the law;] State of law, i. e. legal sov'reignty. But the Oxford editor alters it to state o'er law, i. e. absolute sov'reignty. A doctrine, which, if our poet ever learnt at all, he learnt not in the reign when this play was written, queen Elizabeth's, but in the reign after it, king James's. By bond-slave to the law, the poet means his being inslaved to his favourite subjects. Warburton. This sentiment, whatever it be, is obscurely expressed. I understand it differently from the learned commentator, being perhaps not quite so zealous for Shakespeare's political reputation. The reasoning of Gaunt, I think, is this: By setting the royalties to farm thou hast reduced thyself to a state below sovereignty, thou art now no longer king but landlord of England, subject to the same restraint and limitations as other landlords; by making thy condition a state of law, a condition upon which the common rules of law can operate, thou art become a bond-slave to the law; thou hast made thyself amenable to laws from which thou wert originally exempt. Whether this interpretation be true or no, it is plain that Dr. Warburton's explanation of bond-slave to the law, is not true. Johnson.

Note return to page 271 8And thy unkindness be like crooked age, To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.] Thus stand these lines in all the copies, but I think there is an error. Why should Gaunt, already old, call on any thing like age to end him? How can age be said to crop at once? How is the idea of crookedness connected with that of cropping? I suppose the poet dictated thus: And thy unkindness be time's crooked edge To crop at once &lblank; That is, let thy unkindness be time's scythe to crop. Edge was easily confounded by the ear with age, and one mistake once admitted made way for another. Johnson. Shakespeare, I believe, took this idea from the figure of Time, who was represented as carrying a sickle as well as a scythe. A sickle was anciently called a crook, and sometimes, as in the following instances, crooked may mean armed with a crook.9Q0635 So, in the 100th sonnet of Shakespeare: “Give me, my love, fame, faster than time wastes life, “So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.” Again, in the 119th: “Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks “Within his bending sickle's compass come.” It may be mentioned, however, that crooked is an epithet bestowed on age in the Tragedy of Locrine, 1595: “Now yield to death o'erlaid by crooked age.” Locrine has been attributed to Shakespeare; and in this passage quoted from it, no allusion to a scythe can be supposed. Our poet's expressions are sometimes abortive. Steevens.

Note return to page 272 9Love they &lblank;] That is, let them love. Johnson.

Note return to page 273 1&lblank; where no venom else,] This alludes to a tradition that St. Patrick freed the kingdom of Ireland from venomous reptiles of every kind. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, P. II. 1630: “&lblank; that Irish Judas, “Bred in a country where no venom prospers, “But in his blood.” Again, in Fuimus Troes, 1603: “As Irish earth doth poison poisonous beasts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 274 2Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke About his marriage, &c.] When the duke of Hereford, after his banishment, went into France, he was honourably entertained at that court, and would have obtained in marriage the only daughter of the duke of Berry, uncle to the French king, had not Richard prevented the match. Steevens.

Note return to page 275 3&lblank; deny his offer'd homage,] That is, refuse to admit the homage, by which he is to hold his lands. Johnson.

Note return to page 276 4And yet we strike not, &c.] To strike the sails, is, to contract them when there is too much wind. Johnson.

Note return to page 277 5&lblank; duke of Exeter;] I suspect that some of these lines are transposed, as well as that the poet had made a blunder in his enumeration of persons. No copy that I have seen, will authorize me to make an alteration, though, according to Holinshed, whom Shakespeare followed in great measure, more than one is necessary. All the persons enumerated in Holinshed's account of those embark'd with Bolingbroke, are here mentioned with great exactness, except “Thomas Arundell, sonne and heire to the late earle of Arundell, beheaded at the Tower-hill.” See Holinshed. And yet this nobleman, who appears to have been thus omitted by the poet, is the person to whom alone that circumstance relates of having broke from the duke of Exeter, and to whom alone, of all mentioned in the list, the archbishop was related, he being uncle to the young lord, though Shakespeare by mistake calls him his brother. See Holinshed, p. 496. From these circumstances here taken notice of, which are applicable only to this lord in particular, and from the improbability that Shakespeare would omit so principal a personage in his historian's list, I think it can scarce be doubted but that a line is lost in which the name of this Thomas Arundel had originally a place. Steevens.

Note return to page 278 6&lblank; archbishop late of Canterbury,] Thomas Arundel, archbishop of Canterbury, brother to the earl of Arundel who was beheaded in this reign, had been banished by the Parliament, and was afterwards deprived by the pope of his see, at the request of the king; whence he is here called, late of Canterbury. Steevens.

Note return to page 279 7Imp out &lblank;] As this expression frequently occurs in our author, it may not be amiss to explain the original meaning of it. When the wing-feathers of a hawk were dropped, or forced out by any accident, it was usual to supply as many as were deficient. This operation was called, to imp a hawk. So, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “His plumes only imp the muse's wings.” So, in Albumazar, 1615: “&lblank; when we desire “Time's haste, he seems to lose a match with lobsters; “And when we wish him stay, he imps his wings “With feathers plum'd with thought.” Turbervile has a whole chapter on The Way and Manner howe to ympe a Hawk's Feather, how-soever it be broken or broosed. Steevens.

Note return to page 280 8&lblank; life-harming heaviness,] Thus the quarto, 1599. The quartos 1608, and 1615—halfe-harming; the folio—self-harming. Steevens.

Note return to page 281 9With nothing trembles; yet at something grieves,] The following line requires that this should be read just the contrary way: With something trembles, yet at nothing grieves. Warburton. All the old editions read: &lblank; my inward soul With nothing trembles; at something it grieves. The reading, which Dr. Warburton corrects, is itself an innovation. His conjectures give indeed a better sense than that of any copy, but copies must not be needlessly forsaken. Johnson. I suppose it is the unborn sorrow which she calls nothing, because it is not yet brought into existence. Steevens.

Note return to page 282 1Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon, Shew nothing but confusion; ey'd awry, Distinguish form: &lblank;] This is a fine similitude, and the thing meant is this; amongst mathematical recreations, there is one in optics, in which a figure is drawn, wherein all the rules of perspective are inverted: so that, if held in the same position with those pictures which are drawn according to the rules of perspective, it can present nothing but confusion: and to be seen in form, and under a regular appearance, it must be looked upon from a contrary station; or, as Shakespeare says, ey'd awry. Warburton. Like perspectives, &c.] Dr. Plot's History of Staffordshire, p. 391, explains this perspective or odd kind of “pictures upon an indented board, which if beheld directly, you only perceive a confused piece of work; but if obliquely, you see the intended person's picture, which, he was told, was made thus. The board being indented [or furrowed with a plough-plane] the print or painting was cut into parallel pieces equal to the depth and number of the indentures on the board, and they were pasted on the flats that strike the eye beholding it obliquely; so that the edges of the parallel pieces of the print or painting exactly joining on the edges of the indentures, the work was done.” Tollet.

Note return to page 283 2As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think,] We should read: As though in thinking; that is, though musing I have no distinct idea of calamity. The involuntary and unaccountable depression of the mind, which every one has some time felt, is here very forcibly described. Johnson.

Note return to page 284 3For nothing hath begot my something grief; Or something hath, the nothing that I grieve:] With these lines I know not well what can be done. The queen's reasoning, as it now stands, is this: my trouble is not conceit, for conceit is still derived from some antecedent cause, some fore-father grief; but with me the case is, that either my real grief hath no real cause, or some real cause has produced a fancied grief. That is, my grief is not conceit, because it either has not a cause like conceit, or it has a cause like conceit. This can hardly stand. Let us try again, and read thus: For nothing hath begot my something grief; Not something hath the nothing which I grieve: That is; my grief is not conceit; conceit is an imaginary uneasiness from some past occurrence. But, on the contrary, here is real grief without a real cause; not a real cause with a fanciful sorrow. This, I think, must be the meaning; harsh at the best, yet better than contradiction or absurdity. Johnson.

Note return to page 285 4'Tis in reversion that I do possess; But what it is, that is not yet known; &c.] I am about to propose an interpretation which many will think harsh, and which I do not offer for certain. To possess a man, is, in Shakespeare, to inform him fully, to make him comprehend. To be possessed, is, to be fully informed. Of this sense the examples are numerous: “I have possest him my most stay can be but short.” Measure for Measure. “He is possest what sum you need.” Merchant of Venice. I therefore imagine the queen says thus: 'Tis in reversion—that I do possess. &lblank; The event is yet in futurity—that I know with full conviction— but what it is, that is not yet known. In any other interpretation she must say that she possesses what is not yet come, which, though it may be allowed to be poetical and figurative language, is yet, I think, less natural than my explanation. Johnson.

Note return to page 286 5&lblank; might have retir'd his power,] Might have drawn it back. A French sense. Johnson.

Note return to page 287 6&lblank; my sorrow's dismal heir:] The author seems to have used heir in an improper sense, an heir being one that inherits by succession, is here put for one that succeeds, though he succeeds but in order of time, not in order of descent. Johnson.

Note return to page 288 7Should I do so, I should bely my thoughts:] This line is found in three of the quartos, but is wanting in the folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 289 8Get thee to Plashy, &lblank;] The lordship of Plashy was a town of the dutchess of Gloster's in Essex. See Hall's Chronicle, p. 13. Theobald.

Note return to page 290 9&lblank; untruth &lblank;] That is, disloyalty, treachery. Johnson.

Note return to page 291 1Come, sister, cousin, I would say; &lblank;] This is one of Shakespeare's touches of nature. York is talking to the queen his cousin, but the recent death of his sister is uppermost in his mind. Steevens.

Note return to page 292 2&lblank; the absent time,] For unprepared. Not an inelegant synecdoche. Warburton. He means nothing more than, time of the king's absence. Johnson.

Note return to page 293 3&lblank; But more than why, &lblank;] This seems to be wrong. We might read: But more than this; why, &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 294 4And ostentation of despised arms?] But sure the ostentation of despised arms would not fright any one. We should read: &lblank; disposed arms, i. e. forces in battle array. Warburton. This alteration is harsh. Sir T. Hanmer reads despightful. Mr. Upton gives this passage as a proof that our author uses the passive participle in an active sense. The copies all agree. Perhaps the old duke means to treat him with contempt as well as with severity, and to insinuate that he despises his power, as being able to master it. In this sense all is right. Johnson. So, in this play: “We'll make foul weather with despised tears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 295 5On what condition &lblank;] It should be, in what condition, i. e. in what degree of guilt. The particles in the old editions are of little credit. Johnson.9Q0640

Note return to page 296 6&lblank; Wherefore was I born?] To what purpose serves birth and lineal succession? I am duke of Lancaster by the same right of birth as the king is king of England. Johnson.

Note return to page 297 7Here is a scene so unartfully and irregularly thrust into an improper place, that I cannot but suspect it accidentally transposed; which, when the scenes were written on single pages, might easily happen in the wildness of Shakespeare's drama. This dialogue was, in the author's draught, probably the second scene in the ensuing act, and there I would advise the reader to insert it, though I have not ventured on so bold a change. My conjecture is not so presumptuous as may be thought. The play was not, in Shakespeare's time, broken into acts; the two editions published before his death, exhibit only a sequence of scenes from the beginning to the end, without any hint of a pause of action. In a drama so desultory and erratic, left in such a state, transpositions might easily be made. Johnson.

Note return to page 298 8The bay-trees &c.] This enumeration of prodigies is in the highest degree poetical and striking. Johnson. Some of these prodigies are found in T. Haywarde's Life and Raigne of Henry IV. 1599: “This yeare the laurel trees withered almost throughout the realm, &c.” So again, in Holinshed: “In this yeare in a manner throughout all the realme of England, old baie trees withered, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 299 9&lblank; the death of kings &lblank;] The modern editors have added two words to complete the measure:—death or fall of kings. Steevens.

Note return to page 300 1Dispark'd my parks, &lblank;] To dispark is to throw down the bedges of an enclosure. Dissepio. I meet with the word in Barret's Alvearie or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580. Steevens.

Note return to page 301 2From mine own windows torn my houshold coat,] It was the practice, when coloured glass was in use, of which there are still some remains in old seats and churches, to anneal the arms of the family in the windows of the house. Johnson.

Note return to page 302 3Raz'd out my impress, &c.] The impress was a device or motto. Ferne, in his Blazon of Gentry, 1585, observes, “that the arms, &c. of traitors and rebels may be defaced and removed, wheresoever they are fixed, or set.” Steevens.

Note return to page 303 4Thanks, gentle uncle.—Come, my lords, away; To fight with Glendower and his complices; A while to work, and, after, holiday.] Though the intermediate line has taken possession of all the old copies, I have great suspicion of its being an interpolation; and have therefore ventured to throw it out. The first and third lines rhime to each other; nor do I imagine this was casual, but intended by the poet. Were we to acknowledge the line genuine, it must argue the poet of forgetfulness and inattention to history. Bolingbroke is, as it were, but just arrived; he is now at Bristol, weak in his numbers; has had no meeting with a parliament; nor is so far assured of the succession, as to think of going to suppress insurrections before he is planted in the throne. Besides, we find the opposition of Glendower begins The First Part of K. Henry IV. and Mortimer's defeat by that hardy Welshman is the tidings of the first scene of that play. Again, though Glendower, in the very first year of K. Henry IV. began to be troublesome, put in for the supremacy of Wales, and imprisoned Mortimer; yet it was not till the succeeding year that the king employed any force against him. Theobald. This emendation, which I think is just, has been followed by sir T. Hanmer, but is neglected by Dr. Warburton. Johnson.

Note return to page 304 5Here may be properly inserted the last scene of the second act. Johnson.

Note return to page 305 6smiles in meeting;] It has been proposed to me to read:—in weeping; and this change the repetition in the next line seems plainly to point out. Steevens.

Note return to page 306 7Fear not, my lord; &c.] Of this speech the four last lines were restored from the first edition by Mr. Pope. They were, I suppose, omitted by the players only to shorten the scenes, for they are worthy of the author and suitable to the personage. Johnson.

Note return to page 307 8Behind the globe, &c.] I should read: &lblank; the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, and lights the lower world. Johnson. In our former edition I had said, that one of the old copies confirmed Dr. Johnson's conjecture; but I have since observed that it was only a correction very neatly made with a pen by some former possessor of the quarto, 1599. Steevens.

Note return to page 308 9The breath of worldly men &lblank;] Here is the doctrine of indefeasible right expressed in the strongest terms; but our poet did not learn it in the reign of K. James, to which it is now the practice of all writers, whose opinions are regulated by fashion or interest, to impute the original of every tenet which they have been taught to think false or foolish. Johnson.

Note return to page 309 1Mine ear is open, &c.] It seems to be the design of the poet to raise Richard to esteem in his fall, and consequently to interest the reader in his favour. He gives him only passive fortitude, the virtue of a confessor rather than of a king. In his prosperity we saw him imperious and oppressive; but in his distress he is wise, patient, and pious. Johnson.

Note return to page 310 2Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows] Such is the reading of all the copies, yet I doubt whether beadsmen be right, for the bow seems to be mentioned here as the proper weapon of a beadsman. The king's beadsmen were his chaplains. Trevisa calls himself the beadsman of his patron. Beadsman might likewise be any man maintained by charity to pray for his benefactor. Hanmer reads the very beadsmen, but thy is better. Johnson. The reading of the text is right enough: “As boys strive to speak big, and clasp their effeminate joints in stiff unwieldy arms, &c.” “so his very beadsmen learn to bend their bows against him.” Their does not absolutely denote that the bow was their usual or proper weapon; but only taken up and appropriated by them on this occasion. Percy.

Note return to page 311 3Of double-fatal yew &lblank;] Called so, because the leaves of the yew are poison, and the wood is employed for instruments of death; therefore double fatal should be with an hyphen. Warburton. From some of the ancient statutes it appears that every Englishman, while archery was practised, was obliged to keep in his house either a bow of yew or some other wood. It should seem therefore that yews were not only planted in church-yards to defend the churches from the wind, but on account of their use in making bows; while by the benefit of being secured in enclosed places, their poisonous quality was kept from doing mischief to cattle. Steevens.

Note return to page 312 4Where is the earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot? What is become of Bushy? where is Green?] Here are four of them named; and, within a very few lines, the king, hearing they had made their peace with Bolingbroke, calls them three Judasses. But how was their peace made? Why, with the loss of their heads. This being explained, Aumerle says: Is Bushy, Green, and the earl of Wiltshire dead? So that Bagot ought to be left out of the question: and, indeed, he had made the best of his way for Chester, and from thence had escaped into Ireland. And so we find him, in the second act, determining to do: Bagot. No: I'll to Ireland, to his majesty. The poet could not be guilty of so much forgetfulness and absurdity. The transcribers must have blundered. It seems probable to me that he wrote, as I have conjecturally altered the text: Where is the earl of Wiltshire? where is he got? i. e. into what corner of my dominions is he slunk and absconded? Theobald. This emendation Dr. Warburton adopts. Hanmer leaves a blank after Wiltshire. I believe the author, rather than transcriber, made a mistake. Where is he got does not sound in my ear like an expression of Shakespeare. Johnson.

Note return to page 313 5&lblank; grav'd &c.] The verb, to grave, is not peculiar to Shakespeare. So, in Gower De Confessione Amantis, lib. iii. fol. 58: “Unto the hound, unto the raven, “She was none otherwise graven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 314 6And that small model of the barren earth,] He uses model here, as he frequently does elsewhere, for part, portion. Warburton. He uses model for mould. That earth, which closing upon the body, takes its form. This interpretation the next line seems to authorize. Johnson.

Note return to page 315 7Which serves as paste &c.] A metaphor, not of the most sublime kind, taken from a pie. Johnson.

Note return to page 316 8&lblank; the ghosts they have depos'd;] Such is the reading of all the old copies. The modern editors, in the room of have depos'd, substituted dispossess'd. Steevens.

Note return to page 317 9&lblank; there the antic sits,] Here is an allusion to the antic or fool of old farces, whose chief part is to deride and disturb the graver and more splendid personages. Johnson.

Note return to page 318 1Tradition, &lblank; ] This word seems here used for traditional practices: that is, established or customary homage. Johnson.

Note return to page 319 2My lord, wise men ne'er wail their present woes,] Thus the folio. The quartos 1598, 1608, and 1615, read: My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes. Steevens.

Note return to page 320 3&lblank; death destroying death;] That is, to die fighting, is to return the evil that we suffer, to destroy the destroyers. I once read death defying death, but destroying is as well. Johnson.

Note return to page 321 4I'll hate him everlastingly, That bids me be of comfort &lblank;] This sentiment is drawn from nature. Nothing is more offensive to a mind convinced that its distress is without a remedy, and preparing to submit quietly to irresistible calamity, than these petty and conjectured comforts which unskilful officiousness thinks it virtue to administer. Johnson.

Note return to page 322 *To ear the land &lblank;] i. e. to plough it. Examples of this use of the word are given in Antony and Cleopatra. Steevens.

Note return to page 323 5&lblank; Flint castle.] In our former edition I had called this scene the same with the preceding. That was at Barkloughly castle on the coast where Richard landed; but Bolingbroke never marched further in Wales than to Flint. The interview between him and Richard was at the castle of Flint, where this scene should be said to lie, or rather in the camp of Bolingbroke before that castle.—“Go to Flint castle.” See above. Steevens.

Note return to page 324 6For taking so the head, &lblank;] To take the head is, to act without restraint; to take undue liberties. We now say, we give the horse his head, when we relax the reins. Johnson.

Note return to page 325 7See, see, king Richard doth himself appear,] The following six lines are absurdly given to Bolingbroke, who is made to condemn his own conduct and disculp the king's. It is plain these six and the four following all belong to York. Warburton. It should be observed that the four last of these lines are in all the copies given to York. Steevens.

Note return to page 326 8But e'er the crown he looks for, live in peace, Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Shall ill become the flower of England's face;] Though I have not disturbed the text here, I cannot but think it liable to suspicion. A crown living in peace, as Dr. Warburton justly observed to me, is a very odd phrase. He supposes: But e'er the crown, he looks for, light in peace, i. e. descend and settle upon Bolingbroke's head in peace.— Again, I have a small quarrel to the third line quoted. Would the poet say, that bloody crowns should disfigure the flowers that spring on the ground, and bedew the grass with blood? Surely the two images are too familiar. I have suspected: Shall it become the floor of England's face; i. e. shall make a dismal spectacle on the surface of the kingdom's earth. Theobald. By the flower of England's face, is meant the choicest youths of England, who shall be slaughtered in this quarrel, or have bloody crowns. The flower of England's face, to design her choicest youth, is a fine and noble expression. Pericles, by a similar thought, said “that the destruction of the Athenian youth was a fatality like cutting off the spring from the year.” Yet the Oxford editor, who did not apprehend the figure, alters the line thus: Shall misbecome the flow'ry England's face. Which means—I know not what. Warburton. Dr. Warburton has inserted light in peace in the text of his own edition, but live in peace is more suitable to Richard's intention, which is to tell him, that though he should get the crown by rebellion, it will be long before it will live in peace, be so settled as to be firm. The flower of England's face, is very happily explained, and any alteration is therefore needless. Johnson. The flower of England's face, I believe, means England's flowery face, the flowery surface of England's soil. The same kind of expression is used in Sidney's Arcadia, p. 2: “—opening the cherry of her lips,” i. e. her cherry lips. Again, p. 240. edit. 1633: “—the sweet and beautiful flower of her face.” Again, Drayton, in Mortimer's Epistle to Queen Isabell: “And in the field advance our plumy crest, “And march upon fair England's flow'ry breast.” Steevens.9Q0652

Note return to page 327 9And by the bury'd hand of warlike Gaunt;] It should be read just the other way: And by the warlike hand of bury'd Gaunt. Warburton. I see no great difference. Johnson.

Note return to page 328 1With words of sooth! &lblank;] Sooth is sweet as well as true. In this place sooth means sweetness or softness, a signification yet retained in the verb to sooth. Johnson.

Note return to page 329 2My gay apparel, &c.] Dr. Gray observes, “that king Richard's expence in regard to dress, was very extraordinary.” Holinshed has the same remark; and adds, that “he had one cote which he caused to be made for him of gold and stone, valued at 30,000 marks.” Steevens.

Note return to page 330 3Or I'll be buried in the king's high way, Some way of common trade, &lblank;] As specious as this reading appears, Dr. Warburton, Mr. Bishop, and I, all concurred in suspecting it, and in the amendment which now possesses the text: Some way of common tread, &lblank; i. e. a high road. He subjoins immediately: For on my heart they tread now, while I live; and we know how much it is Shakespeare's way to diversify the image with the same word. Theobald. Dr. Warburton has put tread in his own text, but trade will serve very well in the sense either of commerce or custom. Johnson. Trade is right. So, in lord Surrey's Translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “A postern with a blind wicket there was, “A common trade, to pass through Priam's house.” “Limen erat, cæcæque fores, et pervius usus, “Tectorum inter se Priami” &lblank; The phrase is still used by common people. When they speak of a road much frequented, they say, “it is a road of much traffic.” Shakespeare uses the word in the same sense in K. Hen. VIII: “Stand in the gap and trade of more preferments.” Steevens.

Note return to page 331 4&lblank; on their sovereign's head;] Shakespeare is very apt to deviate from the pathetic to the ridiculous. Had the speech of Richard ended at this line, it had exhibited the natural language of submissive misery, conforming its intention to the present fortune, and calmly ending its purposes in death. Johnson.

Note return to page 332 5&lblank; you mock at me.] The quartos read—laugh. Steevens.

Note return to page 333 6&lblank; Bolingbroke says—ay.] Here is another instance of injury done to the poet's metre by changing his orthography. I, which was Shakespeare's word, rimed very well with to [Subnote: dele to, after with.] die; but ay has quite a different sound. See a note on the Merry Wives of Windsor, act V. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 334 7&lblank; base court &lblank;] Bas cour: Fr. So, in Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606: “—they were, for a public observation, brought into the base court of the palace.” Again, in Greene's Farewell to Follie, 1617: “—began, at the entrance into the base court, to use these words.” Steevens.

Note return to page 335 8Of sorrow, or of joy?] All the old copies concur in reading: Of sorrow, or of grief. Mr. Pope made the necessary alteration. Steevens.

Note return to page 336 9And I could weep, &lblank;] The old copies read: And I could sing. Steevens.

Note return to page 337 1Against a change: woe is fore-run with woe.] But what was there in the gardiner's talking of state, for matter of so much woe? Besides this is intended for a sentence, but proves a very simple one. I suppose Shakespeare wrote: &lblank; woe is fore-run with mocks, which has some meaning in it; and signifies, that when great men are on the decline, their inferiors take advantage of their condition, and treat them without ceremony. And this we find to be the case in the following scene. But the editors were seeking for a rhime. Though had they not been so impatient, they would have found it gingled to what followed, though it did not to what went before. Warburton. There is no need of any emendation. The poet, according to the common doctrine of prognostication, supposes dejection to fore-run calamity, and a kingdom to be filled with rumours of sorrow when any great disaster is impending. The sense is, that public evils are always presignified by public pensiveness, and plaintive conversation. The conceit of rhyming mocks with apricocks, which I hope Shakespeare knew better how to spell, shews that the commentator was resolved not to let his conjecture fall for want of any support that he could give it. Johnson. Dr. Warburton's correction may not be right: but there is no room to criticise the orthography. Dr. Donne says: “The Jesuits are like apricocks, heretofore here and there one in a great man's house; now you may have them in every cottage.” Even the accurate Swift spells the word in the same manner. Farmer.

Note return to page 338 2&lblank; our firm state;] How could he say ours when he immediately subjoins, that it was infirm? We should read: &lblank; a firm state. Warburton. The servant says our, meaning the state of the garden in which they are at work. The state of the metaphorical garden was indeed unfirm, and therefore his reasoning is very naturally induced. Why (says he) should we be careful to preserve order in the narrow cincture of this our state, when the great state of the kingdom is in disorder? I have replaced the old reading which Dr. Warburton would have discontinued in favour of his own conjecture. Steevens.

Note return to page 339 3I would the plants, &c.] This execration of the queen is somewhat ludicrous, and unsuitable to her condition; the gardiner's reflection is better adapted to the state both of his mind and his fortune. Mr. Pope, who has been throughout this play very diligent to reject what he did not like, has yet, I know not why, spared the last lines of this act. Johnson.

Note return to page 340 4&lblank; his timeless end.] Timeless for untimely. Warburton.

Note return to page 341 5&lblank; my fair stars,] I rather think it should be stem, being of the royal blood. Warburton. I think the present reading unexceptionable. The birth is supposed to be influenced by the stars, therefore our author, with his usual licence, takes stars for birth. Johnson. We learn from Pliny's Nat. Hist. that the vulgar error assigned the bright and fair stars to the rich and great. “Sidera singulis attributa nobis, et clara divitibus, minora pauperibus, &c.” Lib. i. cap. 8. Anonymous.

Note return to page 342 6If that thy valour stand on sympathies,] Here is a translated sense much harsher than that of stars explained in the foregoing note. Aumerle has challenged Bagot with some hesitation, as not being his equal, and therefore one whom, according to the rules of chivalry, he was not obliged to fight, as a nobler life was not to be staked in a duel against a baser. Fitzwater then throws down his gage, a pledge of battle; and tells him that if he stands upon sympathies, that is, upon equality of blood, the combat is now offered him by a man of rank not inferior to his own. Sympathy is an affection incident at once to two subjects. This community of affection implies a likeness or equality of nature, and thence our poet transferred the term to equality of blood. Johnson.

Note return to page 343 7&lblank; my rapier's point.] Shakespeare deserts the manners of the age in which his drama is placed, very often without necessity or advantage. The edge of a sword had served his purpose as well as the point of a rapier, and he had then escaped the impropriety of giving the English nobles a weapon which was not seen in England till two centuries afterwards. Johnson.

Note return to page 344 8I take the earth to the like, &c] This speech I have restored from the first edition in humble imitation of former editors, though, I believe, against the mind of the author. For the earth I suppose we should read, thy oath. Johnson. &lblank; take the earth &lblank;] To take the earth is, at present, a fox-hunter's phrase. So, in the Blind Beggar of Alexandria, 1598: “I'll follow him until he take the earth.” But I know not how it can be applied here. It should seem, however, from the following passage in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. iii. c. 16. that the expression is yet capable of another meaning: “Lo here my gage, (he terr'd his glove) thou know'st the the victor's meed.” To terre the glove was, I suppose, to dash it on the earth. The quartos 1598, 1608, and 1615, have the same reading, except task instead of take. Let me add, however, in support of Dr. Johnson's conjecture, that the word oath, in Troilus and Cressida, quarto, 1609, is corrupted in the same manner. Instead of the “—untraded oath,” it gives “—untraded earth.” We might read, only changing the place of one letter, and altering another: I task thy heart to the like, &lblank; i. e. I put thy valour to the same trial. So, in K. Hen. IV. act V. sc ii: “How shew'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt?” Steevens.

Note return to page 345 9From sin to sin: &lblank;] So the quartos. I suspect we should read: From sun to sun; i. e. from one day to another. Steevens.

Note return to page 346 1I dare meet Surry in a wilderness,] I dare meet him where no help can be had by me against him. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; or be alive again, “And dare me to the desert with thy sword.” Johnson.

Note return to page 347 2&lblank; in this new world,] In this world where I have just begun to be an actor. Surry has, a few lines above, called him boy. Johnson.

Note return to page 348 3&lblank; here do I throw down this,] Holinshed says, that on this occasion “he threw down a hood that he had borrowed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 349 4Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.] It might be read more grammatically: Yet best beseems it me to speak the truth. But I do not think it is printed otherwise than as Shakespeare wrote it. Johnson.

Note return to page 350 5And shall the figure, &c.] Here is another proof that our author did not learn in king James's court his elevated notions of the right of kings. I know not any flatterer of the Stuarts, who has expressed this doctrine in much stronger terms. It must be observed that the poet intends, from the beginning to the end, to exhibit this bishop as brave, pious, and venerable. Johnson. Shakespeare has represented the character of the bishop as he found it in Holinshed, where this famous speech, (which contains, in the most express terms, the doctrine of passive obedience) is preserved. The politics of the historian were the politics of the poet. Steevens.

Note return to page 351 6Lest childrens' children &lblank;] The old copies read: Lest child, child's children. Steevens.

Note return to page 352 7&lblank; his day of trial. &lblank;] After this line, whatever follows, almost to the end of the act, containing the whole process of dethroning and debasing king Richard, was added after the first edition of 1598, and before the second of 1615. Part of the addition is proper, and part might have been forborn without much loss. The author, I suppose, intended to make a very moving scene. Johnson. The addition was first made in the quarto 1608, for the use of which I am indebted to the reverend Mr. Bowle of Idemestone, Wiltshire. Steevens.

Note return to page 353 8Fetch hither Richard, &c.] The quartos add this to the preceding speech of Northumberland. Steevens.

Note return to page 354 9&lblank; my knee: &lblank;] The quartos 1608, and 1615, read: &lblank; my limbs. Steevens.

Note return to page 355 1The favours &c.] The countenances; the features. Johnson.

Note return to page 356 2The emptier ever dancing &lblank;] This is a comparison not easily accommodated to the subject, nor very naturally introduced. The best part is this line, in which he makes the usurper the empty bucket. Johnson.

Note return to page 357 3My care is—loss of care, by old care done;] Shakespeare often obscures his meaning by playing with sounds. Richard seems to say here, that his cares are not made less by the increase of Bolingbroke's cares; for this reason, that his care is the loss of care, his grief is, that his regal cares are at an end, by the cessation of the care to which he had been accustomed. Johnson.

Note return to page 358 4&lblank; my balm,] The oil of consecration. He has mentioned it before. Johnson.

Note return to page 359 5&lblank; all duteous oaths:] The quartos 1608, and 1615, read: &lblank; all duties, rites. Steevens.

Note return to page 360 6&lblank; are made to thee!] The quartos 1608, and 1615, read: &lblank; that swear to thee. Steevens.

Note return to page 361 7&lblank; If thou would'st,] That is, if thou would'st read over a list of thy own deeds. Johnson.

Note return to page 362 8&lblank; a sort &lblank;] A pack, a company. Warburton. The last who used the word sort in this sense was, perhaps, Waller: “A sort of lusty shepherds strive.” Johnson.

Note return to page 363 9&lblank; a sovereign, a slave;] The quartos 1608, and 1615, read: &lblank; and sovereignty a slave. Steevens.

Note return to page 364 1&lblank; haught, &lblank;] i. e. haughty. Instances of the use of this word are given in another place. Steevens.

Note return to page 365 2No, not that name was given me at the font,] How that name which was given him at the font could be usurped, I do not understand. Perhaps Shakespeare meant to shew that imagination, dwelling long on its own misfortunes, represents them as greater than they really are. Anonymous.

Note return to page 366 3&lblank; Conveyers are ye all,] To convey is a term often used in an ill sense, and so Richard understands it here. Pistol says of stealing, convey the wise it call; and to convey is the word for sleight of hand, which seems to be alluded to here. Ye are all, says the deposed prince, jugglers, who rise with this nimble dexterity by the fall of a good king. Johnson.

Note return to page 367 4On Wednesday next we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.] The first quarto, 1598, reads: “Let it be so: and lo on Wednesday next “We solemnly proclaim our coronation: “Lords, be ready all.” Steevens.

Note return to page 368 5&lblank; as sharp to them as thorn.] This pathetic denunciation shews that Shakespeare intended to impress his auditors with dislike of the desposal of Richard. Johnson.

Note return to page 369 6To bury &lblank;] To conceal, to keep secret. Johnson.

Note return to page 370 7In the first edition there is no personal appearance of king Richard, so that all to the line at which he leaves the stage was inserted afterwards. Johnson.

Note return to page 371 8To Julius Cæsar's &c.] The Tower of London is traditionally said to have been the work of Julius Cæsar. Johnson.

Note return to page 372 9Here let us rest, if &c.] So Milton: “Here rest, if any rest can harbour here.” Johnson.

Note return to page 373 1O thou, the model where old Troy did stand;] The queen uses comparative terms absolutely. Instead of saying, Thou who appearest as the ground on which the magnificence of Troy was once erected, she says: O thou the model, &c. Thou map of honour: &lblank; Thou picture of greatness. Johnson.

Note return to page 374 2&lblank; beauteous inn,] Inn does not here signify a house of public entertainment; but, as in Spenser, a habitation in general. Steevens.

Note return to page 375 3Join not with grief, &lblank;] Do not thou unite with grief against me; do not, by thy additional sorrows, enable grief to strike me down at once. My own part of sorrow I can bear, but thy affliction will immediately destroy me. Johnson.

Note return to page 376 4I am sworn brother, &lblank; To grim necessity; &lblank;] I have reconciled myself to necessity, I am in a state of amity with the constraint which I have sustained. Johnson.

Note return to page 377 5&lblank; to quit their grief,] To retaliate their mournful stories. Johnson.

Note return to page 378 6For why, &lblank;] The poet should have ended this speech with the foregoing line, and have spared his childish prattle about the fire. Johnson.

Note return to page 379 7&lblank; Hollowmas, &lblank;] All hallows, or all hallowntide; the first of November. Steevens.

Note return to page 380 8That were some love, &c.] The quartos give this speech to the king. Steevens.

Note return to page 381 9Better far off, than—near, be ne'er the near'.] To be never the nigher, or, as it is commonly spoken in the mid-land counties, ne'er the ne-er, is, to make no advance towards the good desired. Johnson.

Note return to page 382 1&lblank; and dumbly part; &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quartos read: &lblank; and doubly part. Steevens.

Note return to page 383 2Are idly bent &lblank;] That is, carelesly turned, thrown without attention. This the poet learned by his attendance and practice on the stage. Johnson.

Note return to page 384 3Aumerle that was;] The dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter, were by an act of Henry's first parliament deprived of their dukedoms, but were allowed to retain their earldoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon. Holinshed, p. 513, 514. Steevens.

Note return to page 385 4That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?] So, Milton in one of his songs: “&lblank; who from her green lap throws “The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 386 5&lblank; bear you well &lblank;] That is, conduct yourself with prudence. Johnson.

Note return to page 387 6Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.] Such harsh and defective lines as this, are probably corrupt, and might be easily supplied, but that it would be dangerous to let conjecture loose on such slight occasions. Johnson.

Note return to page 388 7Enquire at London, &c.] This is a very proper introduction to the future character of Henry the Fifth, to his debaucheries in his youth, and his greatness in his manhood. Johnson.

Note return to page 389 8While he, &lblank;] All the old copies read: Which he. Steevens.

Note return to page 390 9&lblank; pluck a glove,] So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578, Lamia, the strumpet, says: “Who loves me once is lymed to my heast: “My colours some, and some shall wear my glove.” Again, in the Shoemaker's Holyday, or Gentle Craft, 1600: “Or shall I undertake some martial sport “Wearing your glove at turney or at tilt, “And tell how many gallants I unhors'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 391 1I see some sparkles of a better hope,] The folio reads: &lblank; sparks of better hope. The quarto 1615: &lblank; sparkles of better hope. Steevens.

Note return to page 392 2Thou sheer, immaculate, &c.] Sheer is pellucid, transparent. The modern editors arbitrarily read clear. So, in Spenser's Faery Queen, b. iii. c. 2: “Who having viewed in a fountain shere “Her face, &c.” Again, b. iii. c. II: “That she at last came to a fountain sheare.” Transparent muslin is still called sheer muslin. Steevens.

Note return to page 393 3Thy overflow of good converts to bad;] This is the reading of all the printed copies in general; and I never till lately suspected its being faulty. The reasoning is disjointed, and inconclusive: my emendation makes it clear and of a piece. “Thy overflow of good changes the complexion of thy son's guilt; and thy goodness, being so abundant, shall excuse his trespass.” Theobald. Theobald would read: &lblank; converts the bad. Steevens. The old reading—converts to bad, is right, I believe, though Mr. Theobald did not understand it. “The overflow of good in thee is turned to bad in thy son; and that same abundant goodness in thee shall excuse his transgression. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 394 4&lblank; digressing son.] Thus the old copies, and rightly. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Digressing from the valour of a man.” To digress is to deviate from what is right or regular. The modern editors read:—transgressing. Steevens.

Note return to page 395 5&lblank; the Beggar and the King.—] The King and Beggar seems to have been an interlude well known in the time of our author, who has alluded to it more than once. I cannot now find that any copy of it is left. Johnson. The King and Beggar was perhaps once an interlude; it was certainly a song. The reader will find it in the first volume of Dr. Percy's collection. It is there intitled, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid; and is printed from Rich. Johnson's Crown Garland of Goulden Roses, 1612, 120; where it is intitled simply, A song of a Beggar and a King. This interlude or ballad is mentioned in Cinthia's Revenge, 1613: “Provoke thy sharp Melpomene to sing “The story of a Beggar and the King.” Steevens.

Note return to page 396 6&lblank; kneel upon my knees,] Thus the folio. The quartos read: &lblank; walk upon my knees. Steevens.

Note return to page 397 7&lblank; Pardonnez moy.] That is, excuse me, a phrase used when any thing is civilly denied. The whole passage is such as I could well wish away. Johnson.

Note return to page 398 8But for our trusty brother-in-law—the abbot, &lblank;] The abbot of Westminster was an ecclesiastic; but the brother-in-law meant, was John duke of Exeter and earl of Huntingdon (own brother to king Richard II.) and who had married with the lady Elizabeth sister of Henry of Bolingbroke. Theobald. The quarto 1615 reads as it is here printed:—and the abbot, which sufficiently discriminates the personages designed. Steevens.

Note return to page 399 9&lblank; the word itself Against the word:] Thus the quartos, except that they read thy word. By the word I suppose is meant the holy word. The folio reads: &lblank; the faith itself Against the faith. Steevens.

Note return to page 400 1&lblank; in one person, &lblank;] All the old copies read, in one prison. Steevens.

Note return to page 401 2To hear &lblank;] One of the quartos reads: to check. Steevens.

Note return to page 402 3&lblank; with sighs they jar, Their watches &c.]9Q0662 I think this expression must be corrupt, but I know not well how to make it better. The first quarto reads: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar, There watches on unto mine eyes the outward watch. The quarto 1608: My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar, Their watches on unto mine eyes the outward watch. The first folio agrees with the third quarto, which reads: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighes they jarre There watches to mine eyes the outward watch. Perhaps out of these two readings the right may be made. Watch seems to be used in a double sense, for a quantity of time, and for the instrument that measures time. I read, but with no great confidence, thus: My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar Their watches on; mine eyes the outward watch, Whereto, &c. Johnson. The outward watch, as I am inform'd, was the moveable figure of a man habited like a watchman, with a pole and lantern in his hand. The figure had the word—watch written on its forehead; and was placed above the dial-plate. This information was derived from an artist after the operation of a second cup: therefore neither the gentleman who communicated it, or myself, can vouch for its authenticity, or with any degree of confidence apply it to the passage before us. Such a figure, however, appears to have been alluded to in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “—he looks like one of these motions in a great antique clock, &c.” A motion anciently signified a puppet. Again, in his Sejanus: “Observe him, as his watch observes his clock.” To jar is, I believe, to make that noise which is called ticking. So, in the Winter's Tale: “I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind, &c.” Again, in the Spanish Tragedy: “&lblank; the minutes jarring, the clock striking.” Steevens.

Note return to page 403 4&lblank; his Jack o'the clock.] That is, I strike for him. One of these automatons is alluded to in King Richard the Third: “Because that like a Jack thou keep'st the stroke, “Between thy begging and my meditation.” The same expression occurs in an old comedy, intitled, If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it: “&lblank; so would I, “And we their jacks o'the clock-house.” Steevens.

Note return to page 404 5&lblank; in this all-hating world.] I believe the meaning is, this world in which I am universally hated. Johnson. &lblank; and love to Richard Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.] i. e. is as strange and uncommon as a brooch, which is now no longer worn. So, in All's Well that ends Well: “Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly suited, but unsuitable; just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now.” Malone.

Note return to page 405 6Where no man ever comes, but that sad dog,] I have ventured at a change here, against the authority of the copies, by the direction of Dr. Warburton. Indeed, sad dog savours too much of the comedian, the oratory of the late facetious Mr. Penkethman. And drudge is the word of contempt, which our author chuses to use on other like occasions. Theobald. Dr. Warburton says peremptorily, “read drudge;” but I still persist in the old reading. Johnson. It should be remembered that the word sad was in the time of our author used for grave. The expression will then be the same as if he had said, that grave, that gloomy villain. So, in Holinshed, p. 730: “With that, the recorder called Fitzwilliam, a sad man and an honest &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 406 7&lblank; by jauncing Bolingbroke.] Jaunce and jaunt were synonimous words. B. Jonson uses geances in his Tale of a Tab: “I would I had a few more geances of it: “And you say the word, send me to Jericho.” Steevens.

Note return to page 407 8&lblank; of Salisbury, Spenser, Blunt, and Kent:] The quartos read:—of Oxford, Salisbury, and Kent. Steevens.

Note return to page 408 *This play is extracted from the Chronicle of Holinshed, in which many passages may be found which Shakespeare has, with very little alteration, transplanted into his scenes; particularly a speech of the bishop of Carlisle in defence of king Richard's unalienable right, and immunity from human jurisdiction. Jonson who, in his Catiline and Sejanus, has inserted many speeches from the Roman historians, was perhaps induced to that practice by the example of Shakespeare, who had condescended sometimes to copy more ignoble writers. But Shakespeare had more of his own than Jonson, and, if he sometimes was willing to spare his labour, shewed by what he performed at other times, that his extracts were made by choice or idleness rather than necessity. This play is one of those which Shakespeare has apparently revised; but as success in works of invention is not always proportionate to labour, it is not finished at last with the happy force of some other of his tragedies, nor can be said much to affect the passions, or enlarge the understanding. Johnson.

Note return to page 409 1John, duke of Lancaster,] It should be Prince John of Lancaster. Steevens. The persons of the drama were originally collected by Mr. Rowe, who has given the title of Duke of Lancaster to Prince John, a mistake which Shakespeare has been no where guilty of in the first part of this play, though in the second he has fallen into the same error. K. Henry IV, was himself the last person that ever bore the title of Duke of Lancaster. But all his sons ('till they had peerages, as Clarence, Bedford, Gloucester) were distinguished by the name of the royal house, as John of Lancaster, Humphrey of Lancaster &c. and in that proper style, the present John (who became afterwards so illustrious by the title of Duke of Bedford) is always mentioned in the play before us. Steevens.

Note return to page 410 2The First Part of Henry IV.] The transactions contained in this historical drama are comprised within the period of about ten months; for the action commences with the news brought of Hotspur having defeated the Scots under Archibald earl Douglas at Holmedon (or Halidown-hill) which battle was fought on Holyrood-day (the 14th of September) 1402; and it closes with the defeat and death of Hotspur at Shrewbury; which engagement happened on Saturday the 21st of July (the eve of Saint Mary Magdalen) in the year 1403. Theobald. This play was first entered at Stationers' Hall, Feb. 25. 1597, by Andrew Wise. Again by M. Woolff, Jan. 9. 1598. For the piece supposed to have been its original, see Six old Plays on which Shakespeare founded &c. published for S. Leacroft, Charing-Cross. Steevens. Shakespeare has apparently designed a regular connection of these dramatic histories from Richard the Second to Henry the Fifth. King Henry, at the end of Richard the Second, declares his purpose to visit the Holy land, which he resumes in this speech. The complaint made by king Henry in the last act of Richard the Second, of the wildness of his son, prepares the reader for the frolicks which are here to be recounted, and the characters which are now to be exhibited. Johnson.

Note return to page 411 3Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents &lblank;] That is, let us soften peace to rest a while without disturbance, that she may recover breath to propose new wars. Johnson.

Note return to page 412 4No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall damp her lips with her own childrens' blood;] This nonsense should be read: Shall trempe, i. e. moisten, and refers to thirsty in the preceding line: trempe, from the French, tremper, properly signifies the moistness made by rain. Warburton. That these lines are absurd is soon discovered, but how this nonsense will be made sense is not so easily told; surely not by reading trempe, for what means he, that says, the thirsty entrance of this soil shall no more trempe her lips with her childrens' blood, more than he that says it shall not damp her lips? To suppose the entrance of the soil to mean the entrance of a king upon dominion, and king Henry to predict that kings shall enter hereafter without bloodshed, is to give words such a latitude of meaning, that no nonsense can want a congruous interpretation. The ancient copies neither have trempe nor damp: the first quarto of 1599, that of 1622, the folio of 1623, and the quarto of 1639, all read: No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daube her lips with her own childrens' blood. The folios of 1632 and 1664 read, by an apparent error of the press, shall damb her lips, from which the later editors have idly adopted damp. The old reading helps the editor no better than the new, nor can I satisfactorily reform the passage. I think that thirsty entrance must be wrong, yet know not what to offer. We may read, but not very elegantly: No more the thirsty entrails of this soil Shall daubed be with her own childrens' blood. The relative her is inaccurately used in both readings; but to regard sense more than grammar, is familiar to our author. We may suppose a verse or two lost between these two lines. This is a cheap way of palliating an editor's inability; but I believe such omissions are more frequent in Shakespeare than is commonly imagined. Johnson. Perhaps the following conjecture may be thought very far fetch'd, and yet I am willing to venture it, because it often happens that a wrong reading has affinity to the right. I would read: &lblank; the thirsty entrants of this soil; i. e. those who set foot on this kingdom through the thirst of power or conquest. Whoever is accustomed to the old copies of this author, will generally find the words consequents, occurrents, ingredients, spelt consequence, occurrence, ingredience; and thus, perhaps, the French word entrants, anglicized by Shakespeare, might have been corrupted into entrance, which affords no very apparent meaning. By her lips Shakespeare may mean the lips of peace, who is mentioned in the second line; or may use the thirsty entrance of the soil, for the porous surface of the earth, through which all moisture enters, and is thirstily drank, or soaked up. Steevens.9Q0664

Note return to page 413 5&lblank; those opposed eyes,] The similitude is beautiful; but what are “eyes meeting in intestine shocks, and marching all one way?” The true reading is, files; which appears not only from the integrity of the metaphor, “well-beseeming ranks march all one way;” but from the nature of those meteors to which they are compared; namely, long streaks of red, which represent the lines of armies; the appearance of which, and their likeness to such lines, gave occasion to all the superstition of the common people concerning armies in the air, &c. Out of mere contradiction, the Oxford editor would improve my alteration of files to arms, and so loses both the integrity of the metaphor and the likeness of the comparison. Warburton. This passage is not very accurate in the expression, but I think nothing can be changed. Johnson.

Note return to page 414 6As far as to the sepulchre &c.] The lawfulness and justice of the holy wars have been much disputed; but perhaps there is a principle on which the question may be easily determined. If it be part of the religion of the Mahometans to extirpate by the sword all other religions, it is, by the laws of self-defence, lawful for men of every other religion, and for Christians among others, to make war upon Mahometans, simply as Mahometans, as men obliged by their own principles to make war upon Christians, and only lying in wait till opportunity shall promise them success. Johnson.

Note return to page 415 7&lblank; shall we levy;] To levy a power of English as far as to the sepulchre of Christ, is an expression quite unexampled, if not corrupt. We might propose lead, without violence to the sense, or too wide a deviation from the traces of the letters. Steevens.

Note return to page 416 8&lblank; this dear expedience.] For expedition. Warburton.

Note return to page 417 9And many limits &lblank;] Limits for estimates. Warburton. Limits, as the author of the Revisal observes, may mean, outlines, rough sketches or calculations. Steevens.

Note return to page 418 1By those Welshwomen done, &lblank;] Thus Holinshed, p. 528: “&lblank; such shameful villanie executed upon the carcasses of the dead men by the Welch-women; as the like (I doo believe) hath never or sildome been practised.” p. 528. Steevens.

Note return to page 419 2&lblank; the gallant Hotspur there, Young Harry Percy, &lblank;] Holinshed's Hist. of Scotland, p. 249, says: “This Harry Percy was surnamed, for his often pricking, Henry Hotspur, as one that seldom times rested, if there were anie service to be done abroad.” Tollet.

Note return to page 420 3&lblank; Archibald,] Archibald Douglas, earl Douglas. Steevens.

Note return to page 421 4Balk'd in their own blood, &lblank;] I should suppose, that the author might have written either bath'd, or bak'd, i. e. encrusted over with blood dried upon them. A passage in Heywood's Iron Age, 1632, may countenance the latter of these conjectures: “Troilus lies embak'd “In his cold blood.” &lblank; Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; horridly trick'd “With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, “Bak'd and impasted &c.” Again, in Heywood's Iron Age: “&lblank; bak'd in blood and dust.” Again, ibid: “&lblank; as bak'd in blood.” Steevens. Balk'd &lblank;] Balk is a ridge; and particularly, a ridge of land: here is therefore a metaphor; and perhaps the poet means, in his bold and careless manner of expression: “Ten thousand bloody carcasses piled up together in a long heap.” —“A ridge of dead bodies piled up in blood.” If this be the meaning of balked, for the greater exactness of construction, we might add to the pointing, viz. Balk'd, in their own blood, &c. “Piled up into a ridge, and in their own blood, &c.” But without this punctuation, as at present, the context is more poetical, and presents a stronger image. I once conjectured: Bak'd in their own blood. &lblank; Of which the sense is obvious. But I prefer the common reading. A balk, in the sense here mentioned, is a common expression in Warwickshire, and the northern counties. It is used in the same signification in Chaucer's Plowman's Tale, p. 182. edit. Urr. v. 2428. Warton. Balk'd in their own blood, I believe, means, lay in heaps or hillocks, in their own blood. Blithe's England's Improvement, p. 118. observes: “The mole raiseth balks in meads and pastures.” In Leland's Itinerary, vol. V. p. 16. and 118. vol. VII. p. 10. a balk signifies a bank or hill. Mr. Pope, in the Iliad, has the same thought: “On heaps the Greeks, on heaps the Trojans bled, “And thick'ning round them rise the hills of dead.” Tollet.

Note return to page 422 5Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son To beaten Douglas; &lblank;] Mordake earl of Fife, who was son to the duke of Albany, regent of Scotland, is here called the son of earl Douglas, through a mistake into which the poet was led by the omission of a comma in the passage of Holinshed from whence he took this account of the Scottish prisoners. It stands thus in the historian: “&lblank; and of prisoners, Mordacke earle of Fife, son to the gouvernour Archembald earle Dowglas, &c.” The want of a comma after gouvernour, makes these words appear to be the description of one and the same person, and so the poet understood them; but by putting the stop in the proper place, it will then be manifest that in this list Mordake, who was son to the governour of Scotland, was the first prisoner, and that Archibald earl of Douglas was the second, and so on. Steevens.

Note return to page 423 6&lblank; and Menteith.] This is a mistake of Holinshed in his English History, for in that of Scotland, p. 259, 262, and 419, he speaks of the earl of Fife and Menteith as one and the same person. Steevens.

Note return to page 424 7&lblank; the prisoners,] Percy had an exclusive right to these prisoners, except the earl of Fife. By the law of arms, every man who had taken any captive, whose redemption did not exceed ten thousand crowns, had him clearly for himself, either to acquit or ransom, at his pleasure. It seems from Camden's Brit. that Pounouny-castle in Scotland was built out of the ransom of this very Henry Percy, when taken prisoner at the battle of Otterbourne by an ancestor of the present earl of Eglington. Tollet. Percy could not refuse the earl of Fife to the king; for being a prince of the blood royal, (son to the duke of Albany, brother to king Robert III.) Henry might justly claim him by his acknowledged military prerogative. Steevens.

Note return to page 425 8Which makes him prune himself, &lblank;] Doubtless Shakespeare wrote plume. And to this the Oxford editor gives his fiat. Warburton. I am not so confident as those two editors. The metaphor is taken from a cock, who in his pride prunes himself; that is, picks off the loose feathers to smooth the rest. To prune and to plume, spoken of a bird, is the same. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is certainly right in his choice of the reading. So, in Albumazar, 1615: “&lblank; prune yourself sleek.” &lblank; Again, in the Cobler's Prophecy, 1594: “Sith now thou dost but prune thy wings,   “And make thy feathers gay.” Again, in Green's Metamorphosis, 1613: “Pride makes the fowl to prune his feathers so.” But I am not certain that the verb to prune is justly interpreted. In the Booke of Haukynge &c. (commonly called the Booke of St. Albans) is the following account of it: “The hauke proineth when she fetcheth oyle with her beake over the taile, and anointeth her feet and her fethers. She plumeth when she pulleth fethers of anie foule and casteth them from her.” Steevens.

Note return to page 426 9Than out of anger can be uttered.] That is, “More is to be said than anger will suffer me to say: more than can issue from a mind disturbed like mine.” Johnson.

Note return to page 427 3&lblank; to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. &lblank;] The prince's objection to the question seems to be, that Falstaff had asked in the night what was the time of day. Johnson. This cannot be well received as the objection of the prince; for presently after, the prince himself says: “Good morrow, Ned,” and Poins replies: “Good morrow, sweet lad.” The truth may be, that when Shakespeare makes the Prince with Poins a good morrow, he had forgot that the scene commenced at night. Steevens.

Note return to page 428 2&lblank; let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty:] This conveys no manner of idea to me. How could they be called thieves of the day's beauty? They robbed by moonshine; they could not steal the fair day-light. I have ventured to substitute booty: and this I take to be the meaning. Let us not be called thieves, the purloiners of that booty, which, to the proprietors, was the purchase of honest labour and industry by day. Theobald. It is true, as Theobald has observed, that they could not steal the fair day-light; but I believe our poet by the expression, thieves of the day's beauty, meant only, let not us, who are body squires to the night, i. e. adorn the night, be called a disgrace to the day. To take away the beauty of the day, may probably mean, to disgrace it. A squire of the body signified originally, the attendant on a knight; the person who bore his head-piece, spear, and shield. It became afterwards the cant term for a pimp; and is so used in the second part of Decker's Honest Whore, 1630. Again, in the Witty Fair One, 1633, for a procuress: “Here comes the squire of her mistress's body.” Steevens.

Note return to page 429 3&lblank; got with swearing—lay by; &lblank;] i. e. swearing at the passengers they robbed, lay by your arms; or rather, lay by was a phrase that then signified stand still, addressed to those who were preparing to rush forward. But the Oxford editor kindly accommodates these old thieves with a new cant phrase, taken from Bagshot-heath or Finchly-common, of lug out. Warburton.

Note return to page 430 4&lblank; And is not mine hostess of the tavern &c.] We meet with the same kind of humour as is contained in this and the three following speeches, in the Mostellaria of Plautus, act I. sc. ii. “Jampridem ecastor frigidâ non lavi magis lubenter, “Nec unde me melius, mea Scapha, rear esse defœcatam. Sca. “Eventus rebus omnibus, velut horno messis magna fuit. Phi. “Quid ea messis attine ad meam lavationem? Sca. “Nihilo plus, quam lavatio tua ad messim.” In the want of connection to what went before, probably consists the humour of the prince's question. Steevens. This kind of humour is often met with in old plays. In the Gallathea of Lilly, Phillida says: “It is a pittie that nature framed you not a woman. “Gall. There is a tree in Tylos, &c. “Phill. What a toy it is to tell me of that tree, being nothing to the purpose, &c.” Ben Jonson calls it a game at vapours. Farmer.

Note return to page 431 5As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle: &lblank;] Mr. Rowe took notice of a tradition, that this part of Falstaff was written originally under the name of Oldcastle. An ingenious correspondent hints to me, that the passage above quoted from our author, proves what Mr. Rowe tells us was a tradition. Old lad of the castle seems to have a reference to Oldcastle. Besides, if this had not been the fact, why, in the epilogue to The Second Part of Henry IV. where our author promises to continue his story with sir John in it, should he say: “Where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already he be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man.” This looks like declining a point that had been made an objection to him. I'll give a farther matter in proof, which seems almost to fix the charge. I have read an old play, called, The famous Victories of Henry the Fifth, containing the honourable battle of Agincourt. —The action of this piece commences about the 14th year of K. Henry the Fourth's reign, and ends with Henry the Fifth's marrying princess Catharine of France. The scene opens with prince Henry's robberies. Sir John Oldcastle is one of the gang, and called Jockie; and Ned and Gadshill are two other comrades. —From this old imperfect sketch, I have a suspicion Shakespeare might form his two parts of Henry the Fourth, and his history of Henry the Fifth; and consequently it is not improbable, that he might continue the mention of sir John Oldcastle, till some descendants of that family moved queen Elizabeth to command him to change the name. Theobald. &lblank; my old lad of the castle: &lblank;] This alludes to the name Shakespeare first gave to this bussoon character, which was sir John Oldcastle; and when he changed the name he forgot to strike out this expression that alluded to it. The reason of the change was this; one sir John Oldcastle having suffered in the time of Henry the Fifth for the opinions of Wickliffe, it gave offence, and therefore the poet altered it to Falstaff, and endeavours to remove the scandal in the epilogue to The Second Part of Henry IV. Fuller takes notice of this matter in his Church History:—“Stage-poets have themselves been very bold with, and others very merry at, the memory of sir John Oldcastle, whom they have fancied a boon companion, a jovial royster, and a coward to boot. The best is, sir John Falstaff hath relieved the memory of sir John Oldcastle, and of late is substituted buffoon in his place.” Book iv. p. 168. But, to be candid, I believe there was no malice in the matter. Shakespeare wanted a droll name to his character, and never considered whom it belonged to: we have a like instance in the Merry Wives of Windsor, where he calls his French quack, Caius, a name at that time very respectable, as belonging to an eminent and learned physician, one of the founders of Caius College in Cambridge. Warburton. The propriety of this note the reader will find contested at the beginning of Henry V. Sir John Oldcastle was not a character ever introduced by Shakespeare, nor did he ever occupy the place of Falstaff. The play in which Oldcastle's name occurs, was not the work of our poet. Old lad is likewise a familiar compellation to be found in some of our most ancient dramatic pieces. So, in the Trial of Treasure, 1567: “What, Inclination, old lad art thou there?” In the dedication to Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is up &c. by T. Nash, 1598, old Dick of the castle is mentioned. Steevens.9Q0666 Old lad of the castle, is the same with Old lad of Castile, a Castilian.— Meres reckons Oliver of the castle amongst his romances; and Gabriel Harvey tells us of “Old lads of the castell with their rapping babble.”—roaring boys.—This is therefore no argument for Falstaff's appearing first under the name of Oldcastle. There is however a passage in a play called Amends for Ladies, by Field the player, 1639, which may seem to prove it, unless he confounded the different performances: &lblank; “Did you never see “The play where the fat knight, hight Oldcastle, “Did tell you truly what this honour was?” Farmer.9Q0667

Note return to page 432 6&lblank; And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?] To understand the propriety of the prince's answer, it must be remarked that the sheriff's officers were formerly clad in buff. So that when Falstaff asks, whether his hostess is not a sweet wench, the prince asks in return, whether it will not be a sweet thing to go to prison by running in debt to this sweet wench. Johnson. The following passage, from the old play of Ram-Alley, may serve to confirm Dr. Johnson's observation: “Look, I have certain goblins in buff jerkins, “Lye ambuscado.” &lblank; [Enter Serjeants. Again, in the Comedy of Errors, act IV: “A devil in an everlasting garment hath him, “A fellow all in buff.” In Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607, I meet with a passage which leads me to believe that a robe or suit of durance was some kind of lasting stuff, such as we call at present, everlasting. A debtor, cajoling the officer who had just taken him up, says: “Where did'st thou buy this buff? Let me not live but I will give thee a good suit of durance. Wilt thou take my bond? &c.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “Varlet of velvet, my moccado villain, old heart of durance, my strip'd canvas shoulders, and my perpetuana pander.” Again, in the Three Ladies of London, 1584: “As the taylor that out of seven yards, stole one and a half of durance.” Steevens.

Note return to page 433 7&lblank; I'll be a brave judge.] This thought, like many others, is taken from the old play of Henry V: “Hen. V. Ned, as soon as I am king, the first thing I will do shall be to put my lord chief justice out of office; and thou shalt be my lord chief justice of England. “Ned. Shall I be lord chief justice? By gogs wounds, I'll be the bravest lord chief justice that ever was in England.” Steevens.

Note return to page 434 8For obtaining of suits?] Suit, spoken of one that attends at court, means a petition; used with respect to the hangman, means the cloaths of the offender. Johnson. The same quibble occurs in Hoffman's Tragedy, 1631: “A poor maiden, mistress, has a suit to you; and 'tis a good suit— very good apparel.” Malone.

Note return to page 435 9&lblank; a gib cat, &lblank;] A gib cat means, I know not why, an old cat. Johnson. A gib cat is the common term in Northamptonshire, and all adjacent counties, to express a he cat. In some part of England he is called a ram cat: In Shropshire, where a tup is the term for a ram, the male cat is called a tup cat. Percy. “As melancholy as a gib'd cat” is a proverb enumerated among others in Ray's Collection. In a Match at Midnight, 1633, is the following passage: “They swell like a couple of gib'd cats, met both by chance in the dark in an old garret.” So, in Bulwer's Artificial Changeling, 1653: “Some in mania or melancholy madness have attempted the same, not without success, although they have remained somewhat melancholy like gib'd cats.” I believe after all, a gib'd cat is a cat who has been qualified for the seraglio, for all animals so mutilated become drowsy and melancholy. To glib has certainly that meaning. So, in the Winter's Tale, act II. sc. i: “And I had rather glib myself, than they “Should not produce fair issue.” Steevens. Sherwood's English Dictionary at the end of Cotgrave's French one says: “Gibbe is an old he cat.” Aged animals are not so playful as those which are young; and glib'd or gelded ones are duller than others. So we might read:—as melancholy as a gib cat or a glib'd cat. Tollet. &lblank; gib cat, &lblank;] Falstaff says, I am as melancholy as a gib cat. Gib is the abbreviation or nick-name of Gilbert: and the name Gibson is nothing more than Gib's, i. e. Gilbert's son. Now it is well known that Christian names have been of old appropriated, as familiar appellations, to many animals: as Jack to a horse, Tom to a pigeon, Philip to a sparrow, Will to a goat, &c. Thus Gilbert, or Gib, was the name of a cat of the male species. Tibert is old French for Gilbert; and Tibert is the name of a cat in the old story-book of Reynart the Foxe, translated by Caxton from the French in the year 1481. In the original French of the Romaunt of the Rose translated by Chaucer, we have “Thibert le cas.” v. 11689. This passage Chaucer translated, “Gibbe our cat.” Rom. R. v. 6204, pag. 253, edit. Urr. Tib is also hence no uncommon name among us for a cat. In Gammer Gurton's Needle we find; “Hath no man stoln her ducks or hens, or gelded Gib her cat?” Dods. Old Pl. vol. I. p. 128. The composure of a cat is almost characteristical: and I know not, whether there is not a superior solemnity in the gravity of the he cat. Falstaff therefore means “that he is grown as dull and demure as a ram cat.” See Gammer Gurton's Needle, iii. 3. where Gib our cat is the subject of a curious conversation. Dods. Old Pl. vol. I. p. 157. Warton.

Note return to page 436 1&lblank; a hare, &lblank;] A hare may be considered as melancholy, because she is upon her form always solitary; and, according to the physic of the times, the flesh of it was supposed to generate melancholy. Johnson. The following passage in Vittoria Corombona &c. 1612, may prove the best explanation: “&lblank; like your melancholy hare, “Feed after midnight.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song the second: “The melancholy hare is form'd in brakes and briers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 437 2&lblank; the melancholy of Moor-ditch?] This I do not understand, unless it may allude to the croaking of frogs. Johnson. I rather believe this to have been said in allusion to its situation in respect of Moor-gate the prison, and Bedlam the hospital. It appears likewise from Stowe's Survey, that a broad ditch, called Deep-ditch, formerly parted the hospital from Moor-fields; and what has a more melancholy appearance than stagnant water? In the old play of Nobody and Somebody, 1598, the clown says: “I'll bring the Thames through the middle of the city, empty Moor-ditch at my own charge, and build up Paul's steeple without a collection.” So again, in A Woman never vex'd, com. by Rowley, 1632: “I shall see thee in Ludgate again shortly.” “Thou lyest again: 'twill be at Moor-gate, beldame, where I shall see thee in the ditch, dancing in a cucking-stool.” Again, in the Gul's Hornbook, by Deckar, 1609: “&lblank; it will be a sorer labour than the cleansing of Augeas' stable, or the scowring of Moor-ditch.” Steevens.9Q0668 Moor-ditch, a part of the ditch surrounding the city of London, between Bishopsgate and Cripplegate, opened to an unwholesome and impassable morass, and consequently not frequented by the citizens, like other suburbial fields which were remarkably pleasant, and the fashionable places of resort. Fitz-Stephen speaks of the great fen, or moor, on the north side of the walls of the city, being frozen over, &c. This explains the propriety of the comparison. Warton.

Note return to page 438 3&lblank; the most comparative, &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer, and Dr. Warburton after him, read, incomparative, I suppose for incomparable, or peerless; but comparative here means quick at comparisons, or fruitful in similies, and is properly introduced. Johnson. This epithet is used again, in act III. sc. ii. of this play, and apparently in the same sense: “&lblank; stand the push “Of every beardless vain comparative.” And in Love's Labour's Lost, act V. sc. ult. Rosaline tells Biron that he is a man “Full of comparisons and wounding flouts.” Steevens. So, in Nash's Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593: “He took upon him to set his foot against me, and to over-crow me with comparative terms.” Malone.

Note return to page 439 4O, thou hast &c.] For iteration sir T. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton read attraction, of which the meaning is certainly more apparent; but an editor is not always to change what he does not understand. In the last speech a text is very indecently and abusively applied, to which Falstaff answers, thou hast damnable iteration, or, a wicked trick of repeating and applying holy texts. This I think is the meaning. Johnson. Iteration is right, for it also signified simply citation or recitation. So, in Marlow's Doctor Faustus, 1631: “Here take this book and peruse it well, “The iterating of these lines brings gold.” From the context, iterating here appears to mean pronouncing, reciting. Malone.

Note return to page 440 5&lblank; and baffle me.] See Mr. Tollet's note on K. Rich. II. act I. sc. i. Steevens.

Note return to page 441 6In former editions: Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Enter Poins. Poins. Now shall we know, if Gadshill have set a match.] Mr. Pope has given us one signal observation in his preface to our author's works. “Throughout his plays,” says he, “had all the speeches been printed without the very names of the persons, I believe one might have applied them with certainty to every speaker.” But how fallible the most sufficient critic may be, the passage in controversy is a main instance. As signal a blunder has escaped all the editors here, as any through the whole set of plays. Will any one persuade me, Shakespeare could be guilty of such an inconsistency, as to make Poins at his first entrance want news of Gadshill, and immediately after to be able to give a full account of him?—No; Falstaff, seeing Poins at hand, turns the stream of his discourse from the prince, and says: “Now shall we know, whether Gadshill has set a match for us;” and then immediately falls into railing and invectives against Poins. How admirably is this in character for Falstaff! And Poins, who knew well his abusive manner, seems in part to overhear him: and so soon as he has returned the prince's salutation, cries, by way of answer: “What says Monsieur Remorse? What says sir Jack Sack-and-Sugar?” Theobald. Mr. Theobald has fastened on an observation made by Mr. Pope, hyperbolical enough, but not contradicted by the erroneous reading in this place, the speech, like a thousand others, not being so characteristic as to be infallibly applied to the speaker. Theobald's triumph over the other editors might have been abated by a confession, that the first edition gave him at least a glimpse of the emendation. Johnson.

Note return to page 442 7&lblank; a match. &lblank;] Thus the quartos 1599, and 1608. The folio reads: &lblank; a watch. Steevens.

Note return to page 443 8&lblank; if thou dar'st not cry, stand, &c.] The present reading may perhaps be right; but I think it necessary to remark, that all the old editions read:—if thou dar'st not stand for ten shillings. Johnson. Falstaff is quibbling on the word royal. The real or royal was of the value of ten shillings. Almost the same jest occurs in a subsequent scene. The quibble, however, is lost, except the old reading be preserved. Cry, stand, will not support it. Steevens.

Note return to page 444 9&lblank; All-hallown summer!] All-hallows is All-hallown-tide, or All-saints' day, which is the first of November. We have still a church in London which is absurdly stiled St. All-hallows, as if a word which was formed to express the community of saints, could be appropriated to any particular one of the number. In The Play of the four Ps, 1569, this mistake (which might have been a common one) is pleasantly exposed: “Pard. Friends, here you shall see, even anone, “Of All-hallows the blessed jaw-bone, “Kiss it hardly, with good devotion: &c.” The characters in this scene are striving who should produce the greatest falshood, and very probably in their attempts to excell each other, have out-ly'd even the Romish Kalendar. Shakespeare's allusion is design'd to ridicule an old man with youthful passions. So, in the second part of this play: “&lblank; the Martlemas your master.” Steevens.

Note return to page 445 1In former editions: Falstaff, Harvey, Rossil, and Gadshill, shall rob these men that we have already way-laid;] Thus we have two persons named, as characters in this play, that never were among the dramatis personæ. But let us see who they were that committed this robbery. In the second act we come to a scene of the highway. Falstaff, wanting his horse, calls out on Hal, Poins, Bardolph, and Peto. Presently Gadshill joins them, with intelligence of travellers being at hand; upon which the prince says: You four shall front 'em in a narrow lane, Ned Poins and I will walk lower. So that the four to be concerned are Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill. Accordingly, the robbery is committed; and the prince and Poins afterwards rob these four. In the Boar's-head tavern, the prince rallies Peto and Bardolph for their running away, who confess the charge. Is it not plain that Bardolph and Peto were two of the four robbers? And who then can doubt, but Harvey and Rossil were the names of the actors. Theobald.

Note return to page 446 2&lblank; for the nonce, &lblank;] That is, as I conceive, for the occasion. This phrase, which was very frequently, though not always very precisely, used by our old writers, I suppose to have been originally a corruption of corrupt Latin. From pro-nunc, I suppose, came for the nunc, and so for the nonce; just as from adnunc came a-non. The Spanish entonces has been formed in the same manner from in-tunc. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 447 3&lblank; reproof &lblank;] Reproof is confutation. Johnson.

Note return to page 448 4&lblank; to-morrow night &lblank;] I think we should read: &lblank; to-night. The disguises were to be provided for the purpose of the robbery which was to be committed at four in the morning; and they would come too late if the prince was not to receive them 'till the night after the day of the exploit. This is a second instance to prove that Shakespeare could forget in the end of a scene what he had said in the beginning. Steevens.

Note return to page 449 5&lblank; shall I falsify mens' hopes;] Just the contrary. We should read fears. Warburton. To falsify hope is to exceed hope, to give much where men hoped for little. This speech is very artfully introduced to keep the prince from appearing vile in the opinion of the audience; it prepares them for his future reformation; and, what is yet more valuable, exhibits a natural picture of a great mind offering excuses to itself, and palliating those follies which it can neither justify nor forsake. Johnson. Hopes is used simply for expectations, as success is for the event, whether good or bad. This is still common in the midland counties. “Such manner of uncouth speech,” says Puttenham, “did the tanner of Tamworth use to king Edward IV. which tanner having a great while mistaken him, and used very broad talk, at length perceiving by his train that it was the king, was afraid he should be punished for it, and said thus, with a certaine rude repentance, “I hope I shall be hanged to-morrow, for I fear me I shall be hanged;” whereat the king laughed a-good; not only to see the tanner's vain feare, but also to hear his mishapen terme: and gave him for recompence of his good sport, the inheritance of Plumpton Parke. Farmer.

Note return to page 450 6I will from henceforth rather be myself, Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition;] i. e. I will from henceforth rather put on the character that becomes me, and exert the resentment of an injured king, than still continue in the inactivity and mildness of my natural disposition. And this sentiment he has well expressed, save that by his usual licence, he puts the word condition for disposition; which use of terms displeasing our Oxford editor, as it frequently does, he, in a loss for the meaning, substitutes in for than: Mighty and to be fear'd in my condition. So that by condition, in this reading, must be meant station, office. But it cannot be predicated of station and office, “that it is smooth as oil, soft as young down;” which shews that condition must needs be licentiously used for disposition, as we said before. Warburton. The commentator has well explained the sense which was not very difficult, but is mistaken in supposing the use of condition licentious. Shakespeare uses it very frequently for temper of mind, and in this sense the vulgar still say a good or ill-conditioned man. Johnson. So, in K. Hen. V. act V: “Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not smooth.” Ben Jonson uses it in the same sense, in The New Inn, act I. sc. vi: “You cannot think me of that coarse condition, “To envy you any thing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 451 7The moody frontier &lblank;] This is nonsense. We should read frontlet, i. e. forehead. Warburton. Frontlet does not signify forehead, but a bandage round the head. Frontier was anciently used for forehead. So Stubbs, in his Anatomy of Abuses, 1595: “Then on the edges of their bolster'd hair, which standeth crested round their frontiers, and hanging over their faces, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 452 8&lblank; at harvest-home:] That is, at a time of festivity. Johnson. If we understand harvest-home in the general sense of a time of festivity, we shall lose the most pointed circumstance of the comparison. A chin new shaven is compared to a stubble-land at harvest-home, not on account of the festivity of that season, as I apprehend, but because at that time, when the corn has been but just carried in, the stubble appears more even and upright, than at any other. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 453 9A pouncet-box, &lblank;] A small box for musk or other perfumes then in fashion: the lid of which, being cut with open work, gave it its name; from poinsoner, to prick, pierce, or engrave. Warburton. Dr. Warburton's explanation is just. At the christening of Q. Elizabeth, the marchioness of Dorset gave, according to Holinshed, “three gilt bowls pounced, with a cover.” Steevens.

Note return to page 454 1Took it in snuff: &lblank;] Snuff is equivocally used for anger, and a powder taken up the nose. So, in The Fleire, a comedy by E. Sharpham, 1610: “Nay be not angry, I do not touch thy nose, to the end it should take any thing in Snuff.” Again, in our author's Love's Labour's Lost: “You marr the light, by taking it in Snuff.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; 'tis enough, “Having so much fool, to take him in snuff;” and here they are talking about tobacco. Again, in Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, 1606: “The good wife glad that he took the matter so in snuff &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 455 2With many holiday and lady terms] So, in a Looking Glass for London and England, 1617: “These be but holiday terms, but if you heard her working day words”—Again, in the Merry Wives of Windsor: “&lblank; he speaks holiday.” Steevens.

Note return to page 456 3I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, To be so pester'd with a popinjay,] But in the beginning of the speech he represents himself at this time not as cold but hot, and inflamed with rage and labour: When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, &c. I am persuaded therefore that Shakespeare wrote and pointed it thus: I then all smarting with my wounds; being gall'd To be so pester'd with a popinjay, &c. Warburton. Whatever Percy might say of his rage and toil, which is merely declamatory and apologetical, his wounds would at this time be certainly cold, and when they were cold would smart, and not before. If any alteration were necessary I should transpose the lines: I then all smarting with my wounds being cold, Out of my grief, and my impatience, To be so pester'd with a popinjay, Answer'd neglectingly. A popinjay is a parrot. Johnson. The same transposition had been proposed by Mr. Edwards. From the following passage in the Northern Lass, 1633, it should seem that a popinjay and a parrot were distinct birds: “Is this a parrot, or a popinjay?” Again, in Nash's Lenten Stuff &c. 1599: “&lblank; the parrot, the popinjay, Philip-sparrow, and the cuckow.” In the ancient poem called The Parliament of Birds, bl. l. this bird is called “the popynge jay of paradyse.” Steevens. The old reading may be supported by the following passage in Barnes's Hist. of Edw. III. p. 786: “The esquire fought still, untill the wounds began with loss of blood to cool and smart.” Tollet.

Note return to page 457 4To do him wrong, or any way impeach What then he said, so he unsay it now.] Let us consider the whole passage, which, according to the present reading, bears this literal sense. “Whatever Percy then said may reasonably die and never rise to impeach what he then said, so he unsay it now.” This is the exact sense, or rather nonsense, which the passage makes in the present reading. It should, therefore, without question, be thus pointed and emended: To do him wrong, or any way impeach. What then he said, see, he unsay it now. i. e. “Whatever Percy then said may reasonably die, and never rise to do him wrong or any-ways impeach him. For see, my liege, what he then said, he now unsays.” And the king's answer is pertinent to the words, as so emended: Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners; But with proviso, &c. implying “you are mistaken in saying, see he now unsays it.” But the answer is utterly impertinent to what precedes in the common reading. Warburton. The learned commentator has perplexed the passage. The construction is: “Let what he then said never rise to impeach him, so he unsay it now.” Johnson.

Note return to page 458 5His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;] Shakespeare has fallen into some contradictions with regard to this lord Mortimer. Before he makes his personal appearance in the play, he is repeatedly spoken of as Hotspur's brother-in-law. In act II. lady Percy expressly calls him her brother Mortimer. And yet when he enters in the third act, he calls lady Percy his aunt, which in fact she was, and not his sister. This inconsistence may be accounted for as follows. It appears both from Dugdale's and Sandford's account of the Mortimer family, that there were two of them taken prisoners at different times by Glendower, each of them bearing the name of Edmund; one being Edmund earl of March, nephew to lady Percy, and the proper Mortimer of this play; the other, sir Edmund Mortimer, uncle to the former, and brother to lady Percy. Shakespeare confounds the two persons. Steevens.

Note return to page 459 6&lblank; and indent with fears,] The reason why he says, bargain and article with fears, meaning with Mortimer, is, because he supposed Mortimer had wilfully betrayed his own forces to Glendower out of fear, as appears from his next speech. No need therefore to change fears to foes, as the Oxford editor has done. Warburton. The difficulty seems to me to arise from this, that the king is not desired to article or contract with Mortimer, but with another for Mortimer. Perhaps we may read: Shall we buy treason? and indent with peers, When they have lost and forfeited themselves? Shall we purchase back a traitor? Shall we descend to a composition with Worcester, Northumberland, and young Percy, who by disobedience have lost and forfeited their honours and themselves? Johnson. Shall we buy treason, and indent with fears?] This verb is used by Harrington in his translation of Ariosto. B. xvi. st. 35: “And with the Irish bands he first indents, “To spoil their lodgings and to burn their tents.” Again, in the Cruel Brother, by sir W. Davenant, 1630: “&lblank; Dost thou indent “With my acceptance, make choice of services?” Again, in the history of Jacob and Esau, 1568: “Thou shalt also with me by this promise indent.” Again, in Drayton's Epistle from Edward &c. to the Countess of Salisbury: “Indent with beauty how far to extend, “Set down desire a limit where to end.” Fears may be used in an active sense for terrors. So, in the second part of this play: “&lblank; all those bold fears “Thou seest with peril I have answered.” These lords, however, had as yet neither forfeited or lost any thing, so that Dr. Johnson's conjecture is inadmissible. Steevens.

Note return to page 460 7He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, But by the chance of war; &lblank;] A poor apology for a soldier, and a man of honour, that he fell off, and revolted by the chance of war. The poet certainly wrote: But 'bides the chance of war; &lblank; i. e. he never did revolt, but abides the chance of war, as a prisoner. And if he still endured the rigour of imprisonment, that was a plain proof he was not revolted to the enemy. Hotspur says the same thing afterwards: &lblank; suffer'd his kinsman March &lblank; to be encag'd in Wales. Here again the Oxford editor makes this correction his own at the small expence of changing 'bides to bore. Warburton. The plain meaning is, he came not into the enemy's power but by the chance of war. To 'bide the chance of war may well enough signify, to stand the hazard of a battle; but can scarcely mean, to endure the severities of a prison. The king charged Mortimer, that he wilfully betrayed his army, and, as he was then with the enemy, calls him revolted Mortimer. Hotspur replies, that he never fell off, that is, fell into Glendower's hands, but by the chance of war. I should not have explained thus tediously a passage so hard to be mistaken, but that two editors have already mistaken it. Johnson.

Note return to page 461 8&lblank; To prove that true, Needs no more but one tongue, for all those wounds, &c.] This passage is of obscure construction. The later editors point it, as they understood that for the wounds a tongue was needful, and only one tongue. This is harsh. I rather think it is a broken sentence. “To prove the loyalty of Mortimer,” says Hotspur, “one speaking witness is sufficient; for his wounds proclaim his loyalty, those mouthed wounds, &c.” Johnson.

Note return to page 462 9Who then affrighted &c.] This passage has been censured as sounding nonsense, which represents a stream of water as capable of fear. It is misunderstood. Severn is here not the flood, but the tutelary power of the flood, who was affrighted, and hid his head in the hollow bank. Johnson.

Note return to page 463 1&lblank; his crisp head &lblank;] Crisp is curled. So Beaumont and Fletcher, in The Maid of the Mill: “&lblank; methinks the river, “As he steals by, curls up his head to view you.” So, in Kyd's Cornelia, 1595: “O beauteous Tiber, with thine easy streams, “That glide as smoothly as a Parthian shaft, “Turn not thy crispy tides, like silver curls, “Back to thy grass-green banks to welcome us?” Perhaps Shakespeare has bestowed an epithet, applicable only to the stream of water, on the genius of the stream. The following passage, however, in the sixth song of Drayton's Polyolbion, may seem to justify its propriety: “Your corses were dissolv'd into that chrystal stream; “Your curls to curled waves, which plainly still appear “The same in water now that once in locks they were.” B. and Fletcher have the same image with Shakespeare in the Loyal Subject: “&lblank; the Volga trembled at his terror, “And hid his seven curl'd heads.” Steevens.

Note return to page 464 2Never did bare and rotten policy] All the quartos which I have seen read bare in this place. The first folio, and all the subsequent editions, have base. I believe bare is right: “Never did policy lying open to detection so colour its workings.” Johnson.

Note return to page 465 3Although it be with hazard &c.] So the first folio, and all the following editions. The quartos read: Albeit I make a hazard of my head. Johnson.

Note return to page 466 4But I will lift the downfall'n Mortimer] The quarto of 1599 reads down-trod Mortimer; which is better. Warburton. All the quartos that I have seen read down-trod, the three folios read down-fall. Johnson.

Note return to page 467 5&lblank; an eye of death,] That is, an eye menacing death. Hotspur seems to describe the king as trembling with rage rather than fear. Johnson. So, in Marloe's, Tamburlaine, 1590: “And wrapt in silence of his angry soul, “Upon his browes was pourtraid ugly death, “And in his eyes the furies of his heart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 468 6&lblank; my brother Edmund Mortimer Heir to the crown?] It was not Edmund Earl of March, the Mortimer of this play, whom K. Richard II. proclaimed heir to the crown; but his father Roger earl of March, who was killed soon after in Ireland. Steevens.

Note return to page 469 7&lblank; this canker, Bolingbroke?] The canker-rose is the dog-rose, the flower of the Cynosbaton. Steevens.

Note return to page 470 8&lblank; disdain'd &lblank;] For disdainful. Johnson.

Note return to page 471 9On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.] That is, of a spear laid across. Warburton.

Note return to page 472 1&lblank; sink or swim: &lblank;] This is a very ancient proverbial expression. So, in the Knight's Tale of Chaucer, late edit. v. 2399: “Ne recceth never, whether I sinke or flete.” Again, in The longer thou livest the more Fool thou art, 1570: “He careth not who doth sinke or swimme.” Steevens.

Note return to page 473 2By heaven, methinks, &c.] Gildon, a critic of the size of Dennis, &c. calls this speech, without any ceremony, “a ridiculous rant, and absolute madness.” Mr. Theobald talks in the same strain. The French critics had taught these people just enough to understand where Shakespeare had transgressed the rules of the Greek tragic writers; and on those occasions, they are full of the poor frigid cant of fable, sentiment, diction, unities, &c. But it is another thing to get to Shakespeare's sense: to do this required a little of their own. For want of which, they could not see that the poet here uses an allegorical covering to express a noble and very natural thought.—Hotspur, all on fire, exclaims against huckstering and bartering for honour, and dividing it into shares. O! says he, could I be sure that when I had purchased honour I should wear her dignities without a rival—what then? Why then, By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon: i. e. though some great and shining character, in the most elevated orb, was already in possession of her, yet it would, methinks, be easy by greater acts, to eclipse his glory, and pluck all his honours from him: Or dive into the bottom of the deep, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks: i. e. or what is still more difficult, though there were in the world no great examples to incite and fire my emulation, but that honour was quite sunk and buried in oblivion, yet would I bring it back into vogue, and render it more illustrious than ever. So that we see, though the expression be sublime and daring, yet the thought is the natural movement of an heroic mind. Euripides at least thought so, when he put the very same sentiment, in the same words, into the mouth of Eteocles: “I will not, madam, disguise my thoughts; I would scale heaven, I would descend to the very entrails of the earth, if so be that by that price I could obtain a kingdom.” Warburton. Though I am very far from condemning this speech with Gildon and Theobald, as absolute madness, yet I cannot find in it that profundity of reflection and beauty of allegory which the learned commentator has endeavoured to display. This sally of Hotspur may be, I think, soberly and rationally vindicated as the violent eruption of a mind inflated with ambition and fired with resentment; as the boasted clamour of a man able to do much, and eager to do more; as the hasty motion of turbulent desire; as the dark expression of indetermined thoughts. The passage from Euripides is surely not allegorical, yet it is produced, and properly, as parallel. Johnson. This is probably a passage from some bombast play, and afterwards used as a common burlesque phrase for attempting impossibilities. At least, that it was the last, might be concluded from its use in Cartwright's poem, On Mr. Stokes his Book on the Art of Vaulting. Edit. 1651. p. 212: “Then go thy ways, brave Will, for one, “By Jove 'tis thou must leap, or none, “To pull bright honour from the moon.” Unless Cartwright intended to ridicule this passage in Shakespeare, which I partly suspect. Stokes's book, a noble object for the wits, was printed at London, in the year 1641. Warton. In the Knight of the burning Pestle, B. and Fletcher have put this speech into the mouth of Ralph the apprentice, who, like Bottom, appears to have been fond of acting parts to tear a cat in. I suppose a ridicule on Hotspur was designed. Steevens.

Note return to page 474 3But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship!] I think this finely expressed. The image is taken from one who turns from another, so as to stand before him with a side-face; which implied neither a full consorting, nor a separation. Warburton. I cannot think this word rightly explained. It alludes rather to dress. A coat is said to be faced when part of it, as the sleeves or bosom, is covered with something finer or more splendid than the main substance. The mantua-makers still use the word. Half-fac'd fellowship is then “partnership but half-adorned, partnership which yet wants half the shew of dignities and honours.” Johnson.9Q0671 I find the same phrase in Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse, 1593:—“&lblank; with all other odd ends of your half-faced English.” Malone.

Note return to page 475 4&lblank; a world of figures here,] Figure is here used equivocally. As it is applied to Hotspur's speech it is a rhetorical mode; as opposed to form, it means appearance or shape. Johnson.

Note return to page 476 5&lblank; I solemnly defy,] One of the ancient senses of the verb, to defy, was to refuse. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “I do defy thy commiseration.” Steevens.

Note return to page 477 6And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales,] A royster or turbulent fellow, that fought in taverns, or raised disorders in the streets, was called a Swash-buckler. In this sense sword-and-buckler is used here. Johnson.

Note return to page 478 7&lblank; poison'd with a pot of ale.] Dr. Gray supposes this to be said in allusion to Caxton's Account of King John's Death; (see Caxton's Fructus Temporum, 1515, fol. 62.) but I rather think it has reference to the low company (drinkers of ale) with whom the prince spent so much of his time in the meanest taverns. Steevens.

Note return to page 479 8Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool] Thus the quarto 1598; and surely it affords a more obvious meaning than the folio, which reads: &lblank; wasp-tongued. That Shakespeare knew the sting of a wasp was not situated in its mouth may be learned from the following passage in the Winter's Tale, act I. sc. ii: “&lblank; is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps.” Steevens.

Note return to page 480 9&lblank; infant fortune came to age, &lblank;] Alluding to what passed in King Richard, act II. sc. iii. Johnson.

Note return to page 481 1The devil take such cozeners! &lblank;] So, in Two Tragedies in One, &c. 1601: “Come pretty cousin, cozened by grim death.” Again, in Monsieur Thomas, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; cousin, “Cozen thyself no more.” Again, in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “To see my cousin cozen'd in this sort.” Again, in our author's Richard III: “Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 482 2I speak not this in estimation,] Estimation for conjecture. But between this and the foregoing verse it appears there were some lines which are now lost. For, consider the sense. What was it that was ruminated, plotted, and set down? Why, as the text stands at present, that the archbishop bore his brother's death hardly. It is plain then that they were some consequences of that resentment which the speaker informs Hotspur of, and to which his conclusion of, I speak not this by conjecture but on good proof, must be referred. But some player, I suppose, thinking the speech too long, struck them out. Warburton. If the editor had, before he wrote his note, read ten lines forward, he would have seen that nothing is omitted. Worcester gives a dark hint of a conspiracy. Hotspur smells it, that is, guesses it. Northumberland reproves him for not suffering Worcester to tell his design. Hotspur, according to the vehemence of his temper, still follows his own conjecture. Johnson.

Note return to page 483 3&lblank; let'st slip.] To let slip, is to loose the greyhound. Johnson.

Note return to page 484 4&lblank; by raising of a head:] A head is a body of forces. Johnson.

Note return to page 485 5The king will always &c.] This is a natural description of the state of mind between those that have conferred, and those that have received obligations too great to be satisfied. That this would be the event of Northumberland's disloyalty, was predicted by king Richard in the former play. Johnson.

Note return to page 486 6&lblank; Cut's saddle, &lblank;] Cut is the name of a horse in the Witches of Lancashire, 1634, and I suppose was a common one. Steevens.

Note return to page 487 7&lblank; out of all cess.] The Oxford editor not understanding this phrase, has alter'd it to—out of all case. As if it were likely that a blundering transcriber should change so common a word as case for cess: which, it is probable, he understood no more than this critic; but it means out of all measure: the phrase being taken from a cess, tax, or subsidy; which being by regular and moderate rates, when any thing was exorbitant, or out of measure, it was said to be, out of all cess. Warburton.

Note return to page 488 8&lblank; as dank &lblank;] i. e. wet, rotten. Pope.

Note return to page 489 9&lblank; bots: &lblank;] Are worms in the stomach of a horse. Johnson. A bots light upon you, is an imprecation frequently repeated in the anonymous play of K. Henry V. as well as in many other old pieces. So, in the ancient black letter interlude of the Disobedient child, no date: “That I wished their bellyes full of bottes.” In Reginald Scott, 1584, is “a charme for the bots in a horse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 490 1&lblank; like a loach.] A loch (Scotch) a lake. Warburton. This word, though somewhat differently spelt, is used by Drayton in the eleventh song of his Polyolbion: “As to the grosser loughs on the Lancastrian shore.” But how it happens that a lake should breed fleas, I cannot explain. Standing waters indeed will produce other insects. Perhaps the meaning of the passage has been wholly mistaken, and the Carrier means to say:—fleas as big as a loach, i. e. resembling the fish so called, in size. The loach though small in itself, is large if brought into comparison with a flea. Loaches, which are now only used as baits for other fish, were anciently swallowed in wine as an act of topers' dexterity. So, Sir Harry Wildair: “&lblank; swallow Cupids like loaches.” Steevens.

Note return to page 491 2&lblank; and two razes of ginger, &lblank;] As our author in several passages mentions a race of ginger, I thought proper to distinguish it from the raze mentioned here. The former signifies no more than a single root of it; but a raze is the Indian term for a bale of it. Theobald. &lblank; and two razes of ginger, &lblank;] So, in the old anonymous play of Hen. V: “&lblank; he hath taken the great raze of ginger, that bouncing Bess, &c. was to have had.” A dainty race of ginger is mentioned in Ben Jonson's masque of the Gipsies Metamorphosed. The late Mr. Warner observed to me, that a single root or race of ginger, were it brought home entire, as it might formerly have been, and not in small pieces, as at present, would have been sufficient to load a pack-horse. He quoted Sir Hans Sloane's Introduction to his Hist. of Jamaica in support of his assertion; and added “that he could discover no authority for the word raze in the sense appropriated to it by Theobald.” A race of ginger is a phrase that seems familiar among our comic writers. So, in a Looking-Glass for London and England, 1617: “I have spent eleven pence besides three rases of ginger.”— “Here's two rases more.” Steevens.

Note return to page 492 3&lblank; Gads-hill.] This thief receives his title from a place on the Kentish road, where many robberies have been committed. So, in Westward Hoe, 1606: &lblank; “Why, how lies she? “Troth, as the way lies over Gads-hill, very dangerous.” Again, in the anonymous play of the Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth: “And I know thee for a taking fellow “Upon Gadshill in Kent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 493 4I think, it be two o'clock.] The carrier, who suspected Gadshill, strives to mislead him as to the hour; because the first observation made in this scene is, that it was four o'clock. Steevens.

Note return to page 494 5At hand, quoth pick-purse.] This is a proverbial expression often used by Green, Nash, and other writers of the time, in whose works the cant of low conversation is preserved. Again, in the play of Apius and Virginia, 1575, Haphazard, the vice, says: “At hand, quoth pickpurse, here redy am I, “See well to the cutpurse, be ruled by me.” Again, (as Mr. Malone observes) in the Dutchess of Suffolk, by Heywood, 1631: “At hand quoth pickpurse—have you any work for a tyler?” Steevens.

Note return to page 495 6&lblank; franklin, &lblank;] Is a little gentleman. Johnson.

Note return to page 496 7&lblank; They &lblank; call for eggs and butter: &lblank;] It appears from the Household Book of the Fifth Earl of Northumberland, that butter'd eggs was the usual breakfast of my lord and lady, during the season of Lent. Steevens.

Note return to page 497 8&lblank; saint Nicholas' clarks, &lblank;] St. Nicholas was the patron saint of scholars: and Nicholas, or Old Nick, is a cant name for the devil. Hence he equivocally calls robbers, St. Nicholas' clerks. Warburton. Highwaymen or robbers were so called, or St. Nicholas's knights. “A mandrake grown under some heavy tree, “There, where St. Nicholas' knights not long before “Had dropt their fat axungia to the lee.” Glareanus Vadianus's Panegyrick upon Tom Coryat. Gray. Again, in Shirley's Match at Midnight [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 498 for, Shirley's Match &c. read, Rowley's Match &c.

Note return to page 499 9&lblank; other Trojans &lblank;] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.” Trojan in both these instances had a cant signification, and perhaps was only a more creditable term for a thief. So again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away.” Steevens.

Note return to page 500 1&lblank; I am join'd with no foot land-rakers, &lblank;] That is, with no padders, no wanderers on foot. No long-staff, six-penny strikers, —no fellows that infest the roads with long staffs and knock men down for six-pence. None of those mad, mustachio, purple-hu'd malt-worms,—none of those whose faces are red with drinking ale. Johnson.

Note return to page 501 2&lblank; six-penny strikers; &lblank;] A striker had some cant signification with which at present we are not exactly acquainted. It is used in several of the old plays. I rather believe in this place, no six-penny striker signifies, not one who would content himself to borrow, i. e. rob you for the sake of six-pence. That to borrow was the cant phrase for to steal, is well known, and that to strike likewise signified to borrow, let the following passage in Shirley's Gentleman of Venice confirm: “Cor. You had best assault me too. “Mal. I must borrow money, “And that some call a striking, &c.” Again, in Glapthorne's Hollander, 1640: “The only shape to hide a striker in.” Steevens. In Greene's Art of Coneycatching, 1592, under the table of Cant Expressions used by Thieves: “&lblank; the cutting a pocket or picking a purse, is called striking.” Again: “&lblank; who taking a proper youth to be his prentice, to teach him the order of striking and foisting.” Collins.9Q0674

Note return to page 502 3&lblank; malt-worms: &lblank;] This cant term for a tippler I find in the Life and Death of Jack Straw, 1593: “You shall purchase the prayers of all the alewives in town, for saving a malt-worm and a customer.” Again, in Gammer Gurton's Needle. Steevens.

Note return to page 503 4&lblank; burgomasters, and great oneyers; &lblank;] “Perhaps, oneraires, trustees, or commissioners;” says Mr. Pope. But how this word comes to admit of any such construction, I am at a loss to know. To Mr. Pope's second conjecture, “of cunning men that look sharp, and aim well,” I have nothing to reply seriously: but choose to drop it. The reading which I have substituted, I owe to the friendship of the ingenious Nicholas Hardinge, Esq. A moneyer is an officer of the mint, who makes coin, and delivers out the king's money. Moneyers are also taken for bankers, or those that make it their trade to turn and return money. Either of these acceptations will admirably square with our author's context. Theobald. This is a very acute and judicious attempt at emendation, and is not undeservedly adopted by Dr. Warburton. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads great owners, not without equal or greater likelihood of truth. I know not however whether any change is necessary; Gads-hill tells the Chamberlain that he is joined with no mean wretches, but with burgomasters and great ones, or as he terms them in merriment by a cant termination, great oneyers, or great-one-iers, as we say, privateer, auctioneer, circuiteer. This is, I fancy, the whole of the matter. Johnson. By onyers, (for so I believe the word ought to be written) I understand publick accountants; men possessed of large sums of money belonging to the state.—It is the course of the Court of Exchequer, when the sheriff makes up his accounts for issues, amerciaments, and mesne profits, to set upon his head o. ni. which denotes oneratur nisi habeat sufficientem exonerationem: he thereupon becomes the king's debtor, and the parties peravaile (as they are termed in law) for whom he answers, become his debtors, and are discharged as with respect to the king. To settle accounts in this manner, is still called in the Exchequer to ony; and from hence Shakespeare seems to have formed the word onyers.—The Chamberlain had a little before mentioned, among the travellers whom he thought worth plundering, an officer of the Exchequer, “a kind of auditor, one that hath abundance of charge too—God knows what.” This interpretation is further confirmed by what Gads-hill says in the next scene:— “There's money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's Exchequer.” Malone.

Note return to page 504 5&lblank; such as will strike sooner than speak; and speak sooner than drink; and drink sooner than pray: &lblank;] According to the specimen given us in this play, of this dissolute gang, we have no reason to think they were less ready to drink than speak. Besides, it is plain, a natural gradation was here intended to be given of their actions, relative to one another. But what has speaking, drinking, and praying to do with one another? We should certainly read think in both places instead of drink; and then we have a very regular and humourous climax. They will strike sooner than speak: and speak sooner than think; and think sooner than pray. By which last words is meant, that “though perhaps they may now and then reflect on their crimes, they will never repent of them.” The Oxford editor has dignified this correction by his adoption of it. Warburton. I am in doubt about this passage. There is yet a part unexplained. What is the meaning of such as can hold in? It cannot mean such as can keep their own secret, for they will, he says, speak sooner than think: it cannot mean such as will go calmly to work without unnecessary violence, such as is used by long-staff strikers, for the following part will not suit with this meaning; and though we should read by transposition such as will speak sooner than strike, the climax will not proceed regularly. I must leave it as it is. Johnson. Such as can hold in, may mean, such as can curb old-father antic the law, or such as will not blab. Steevens. Turbervile's Book on Hunting, 1575, p. 37, mentions huntsmen on horseback to make young hounds “hold in and close” to the old ones: so Gads-hill may mean, that he is joined with such companions as will hold in, or keep and stick close to one another, and such as are men of deeds, and not of words; and yet they love to talk and speak their mind freely better than to drink. Tollet.

Note return to page 505 6She will, she will; justice hath liquor'd her. &lblank;] A satire on chicane in courts of justice; which supports ill men in their violations of the law, under the very cover of it. Warburton.

Note return to page 506 7&lblank; as in a castle; &lblank;] This was once a proverbial phrase. So, in the Little French Lawyer of Beaumont and Fletcher: “That noble courage we have seen, and we “Shall fight as in a castle.” Perhaps Shakespeare means, we steal with as much security as the ancient inhabitants of castles, who had those strong holds to fly to for protection and defence against the laws. So, in K. Hen. VI. P. I. act III. sc. i: “Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, “And useth it to patronage his theft.” Steevens.

Note return to page 507 8&lblank; we have the receipt of fern-seed, &lblank;] Fern is one of those plants which have their seed on the back of the leaf so small as to escape the sight. Those who perceived that fern was propagated by semination, and yet could never see the seed, were much at a loss for a solution of the difficulty; and as wonder always endeavours to augment itself, they ascribed to fern-seed many strange properties, some of which the rustick virgins have not yet forgotten or exploded. Johnson. This circumstance relative to fern-seed is alluded to in B. and Fletcher's Fair Maid of the Inn: “&lblank; had you Gyges' ring, “Or the herb that gives invisibility?” Again, in B. Jonson's New Inn: “&lblank; I had “No medicine, sir, to go invisible, “No fern-seed in my pocket.” Again, in P. Holland's Translation of Pliny, b. xxvii. ch. 9: “Of ferne be two kinds, and they beare neither floure nor seed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 508 9&lblank; purchase, &lblank;] Is the term used in law for any thing not inherited but acquired. Johnson. &lblank; in our purchase &lblank;] Purchase was anciently the cant term for stolen goods. So, in Henry V. act III: “They will steal any thing, and call it purchase.” So, Chaucer: “And robbery is holde purchase.” Steevens.

Note return to page 509 1&lblank; Homo is a &lblank; name &c.] Gads-hill had promised as he was a true man; the Chamberlain wills him to promise rather as a false thief; to which Gads-hill answers, that though he might have reason to change the word true, he might have spared man, for homo is a name common to all men, and among others to thieves. Johnson.

Note return to page 510 2&lblank; like a gumm'd velvet.] This allusion we often meet with in the old comedies. So, in the Malecontent, 1606: “I'll come among you, like gum into taffata, to fret, fret.” Steevens.

Note return to page 511 3&lblank; four foot by the square &lblank;] The thought is humourous, and alludes to his bulk: insinuating, that his legs being four foot asunder, when he advanced four foot, this put together made four foot square. Warburton. I am in doubt whether there is so much humour here as is suspected: Four foot by the square is probably no more than four foot by a rule. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is certainly right. Bishop Corbet says in one of his poems: “Some twelve foot by the square.” Farmer. All the old copies read by the squire, which points out the etymology —esquierre, Fr. The same phrase occurs in the Winter's Tale: “&lblank; not the worst of the three, but jumps twelve foot and a half by the square.” Steevens.

Note return to page 512 4&lblank; medicines to make me love him, &lblank;] Alluding to the vulgar notion of love-powder. Johnson.

Note return to page 513 5&lblank; rob a foot further. &lblank;] This is only a slight error, which yet has run through all the copies. We should read—rub a foot. So we now say—rub on. Johnson. Why may it not mean, I will not go a foot further to rob? Steevens.

Note return to page 514 6&lblank; to colt &lblank;] Is to fool, to trick; but the prince taking it in another sense, opposes it by uncolt, that is, unhorse. Johnson. In the first of these senses it is used by Nashe, in Have with you to Saffron Walden, &c. 1596: “His master fretting and chaffing to be thus colted of both of them, &c.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's Loyal Subject: “What, are we bobb'd thus still? colted and carted?” Steevens.

Note return to page 515 7&lblank; heir-apparent garters! &lblank;] Alluding to the order of the garter, in which he was enrolled as heir-apparent. Johnson. Had this been the allusion, Shakespeare would have written— garter, not—garters: but he must be very ingenious who could hang himself in one of these garters. “He may hang himself in his own garters,” is a proverb in Ray's Collection. Steevens.

Note return to page 516 8Bardolph. What news? &lblank;] In all the copies that I have seen Poins is made to speak upon the entrance of Gads-hill thus: O, 'tis our setter; I know his voice.—Bardolph, what news? This is absurd; he knows Gads-hill to be the setter, and asks Bardolph what news. To countenance this impropriety, the latter editions have made Gads-hill and Bardolph enter together, but the old copies bring in Gads-hill alone, and we find that Falstaff, who knew their stations, calls to Bardolph among others for his horse, but not to Gads-hill, who was posted at a distance. We should therefore read: Poins. O, 'tis our setter, &c. Bard. What news? Gads. Case ye, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 517 9&lblank; dole, &lblank;] The portion of alms distributed at Lambeth palace gate is at this day called the dole. In Jonson's Alchemist, Subtle charges Face with perverting his master's charitable intentions by selling the dole beer to aqua-vitæ men. Sir J. Hawkins. So, in the Costly Whore, 1633: “&lblank; we came thinking “We should have some dole at the bishop's funeral.” Again: “Go to the back gate, and you shall have dole.” Steevens.

Note return to page 518 1&lblank; gorbellied &lblank;] i. e. fat and corpulent. See the Glossary to Kennet's Parochial Antiquities. This word is likewise used by sir Thomas North in his translation of Plutarch. Nash, in his Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1596, says:— “O, 'tis an unconscionable gorbellied volume, bigger bulk'd than a Dutch hoy, and far more boisterous and cumbersome than a payre of Swissers omnipotent galeaze breeches.” Again, in the Weakest goes to the Wall, 1618: “What are these thick-skinn'd, heavy-purs'd, gorbellied churles mad?” Again, in The longer thou livest the more Fool thou art, 1570: “Gregory Gorbely the goutie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 519 2&lblank; ye fat chuffs; &lblank;] This term of contempt is always applied to rich and avaricious people. So, in the Muses Looking Glass, 1638: “&lblank; the chuff's crowns, “Imprison'd in his rusty chest, &c.” The derivation of the word is said to be uncertain. Perhaps it is a corruption of chough, a thievish bird that collects its prey on the sea shore. So, in Chaucer's Assemble of Foules: “The thief the chough, and eke the chatt'ring pie.” Sir W. Davenant, in his Just Italian, 1630, has the same term: “They're rich choughs, they've store “Of villages and plough'd earth.” And sir Epicure Mammon, in the Alchemist, being asked who had robb'd him, answers, “a kind of choughs, sir.” Steevens.

Note return to page 520 3&lblank; the true men: &lblank;] In the old plays a true man is always set in opposition to a thief. So, in the ancient Morality called Hycke Scorner, bl. l. no date: “And when me list to hang a true man &lblank; “Theves I can help out of pryson.” Again, in the Four Prentices of London, 1632: “Now, true man, try if thou can'st rob a thief.” Again: “Sweet wench, embrace a true man, scorn a thief.” Steevens.

Note return to page 521 4&lblank; argument for a week, &lblank;] Argument is subject matter for a drama. So, in the second part of this play: “For all my part has been but as a scene “Acting that argument.” Steevens.

Note return to page 522 5Enter Hotspur, reading a letter.] This letter was from George Dunbar, earl of March, in Scotland. Mr. Edwards's MS. Notes.

Note return to page 523 6&lblank; my lord of York &lblank;] Richard Scroop, archbishop of York. Steevens.

Note return to page 524 7&lblank; I could brain him with his lady's fan. &lblank;] Mr. Edwards observes, in his Canons of Criticism, “that the ladies in our author's time wore fans made of feathers. See Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, act II. sc. ii: “This feather grew in her sweet fan sometimes, tho' now it be my poor fortune to wear it.” So again, in Cynthia's Revels, act III. sc iv: “&lblank; for a garter, “Or the least feather in her bounteous fan.” Again, in The fine Companion, a comedy, by S. Marmion: “&lblank; she set as light by me, as by the least feather in her fan.” Again, in Chapman's May-day, a comedy, 1610: “I will bring thee some special favour from her, as a feather from her fan, &c.” Again, in Heywood's Iron Age, 1632: “Yet I can use it as a summer's fan “Made of the stately train of Juno's bird.” Again: “&lblank; fan my face “With a dy'd ostrich plume.” See the wooden cut in a note on a passage in the Merry Wives of Windsor, act II. sc. ii. and the figure of Marguerite de France Duchesse de Savoie, in the fifth vol. of Montfaucon's Monarchie de France, Plate XI. Steevens.

Note return to page 525 8How now, Kate? &lblank;] Shakespeare either mistook the name of Hotspur's wife, (which was not Katharine, but Elizabeth) or else designedly changed it, out of the remarkable fondness he seems to have had for the familiar appellation of Kate, which he is never weary of repeating, when he has once introduced it; as in this scene, the scene of Katharine and Petruchio, and the courtship between king Henry V. and the French Princess. The wife of Hotspur was the lady Elizabeth Mortimer, sister to Roger earl of March who was declared presumptive heir to the crown by king Richard II. and aunt to Edmund earl of March, who is introduced in this play by the name of lord Mortimer. Steevens.

Note return to page 526 9&lblank; and retires; &lblank;] Retires are retreats. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 10: “&lblank; their secret safe retire.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 960: “&lblank; the Frenchmen's flight, (for manie so termed their sudden retire) &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 527 1&lblank; frontiers, &lblank;] For frontiers sir Thomas Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read very plausibly—fortins. Johnson. Plausible as this is, it is apparently erroneous, and therefore unnecessary. Frontiers formerly meant not only the bounds of different territories, but also the forts built along, or near those limits. In Ive's Practice of Fortification, printed in 1589, p. 1. it is said: “A forte not placed where it were needful, might skantly be accounted for frontier.” Again, p. 21: “In the frontiers made by the late emperor Charles the Fifth, divers of their walles having given way, &c.” P. 34: “It shall not be necessary to make the bulwarkes in townes so great as those in royall frontiers.” P. 40: “When as any open towne or other inhabited place is to be fortified, whether the same be to be made a royal frontier, or to be meanly defended, &c.” This account of the word will, I hope, be thought sufficient. Steevens.9Q0678

Note return to page 528 2Of basilisks, &lblank;] A basilisk is a cannon of a particular kind. So, in Ram-alley, 1611: “My cannons, demi-cannons, basilisks, &c.” Again, in the Devil's Charter, 1607: “&lblank; are those two basilisks “Already mounted on their carriages?” Again, in Holinshed, p. 816: “&lblank; setting his basiliskes and other cannon in the mouth of the baie.” See likewise Holinshed's Description of England, p. 198, 199. Steevens.

Note return to page 529 3Out, you mad-headed ape!] This and the following speech of the lady are in the early editions printed as prose; those editions are indeed in such cases of no great authority, but perhaps they were right in this place, for some words have been left out to make the metre. Johnson.

Note return to page 530 4Hot. Away, away, you trifler! &lblank; love! I love thee not,] This I think would be better thus: Hot. Away, you trifler! Lady. Love! Hot. I love thee not. This is no world &c. Johnson.9Q0680

Note return to page 531 5&lblank; mammets, &lblank;] Puppets. Johnson. So Stubbs, speaking of ladies drest in the fashion, says: “they are not natural, but artificial women, not women of flesh and blood, but rather puppets or mammets, consisting of ragges and clowts compact together.” So, in the old comedy of Every Woman in her Humour, 1609: —“I have seen the city of new Nineveh, and Julius Cæsar, acted by mammets.” Again, in the ancient romance of Virgilius, bl. l. no date: “&lblank; he made in that compace all the goddes that we call mawmetts and ydolles.” Mammet is perhaps a corruption of Mahomet. Holinshed's History of England, p. 108, speaks “of mawmets and idols.” This conjecture and quotation is from Mr. Tollet. I may add that Hamlet seems to have the same idea when he tells Ophelia, that “he could interpret between her and her love, if he saw the puppets dallying.” Steevens.

Note return to page 532 6&lblank; crack'd crowns,] Signifies at once crack'd money, and a broken head. Current will apply to both; as it refers to money, its sense is well known; as it is applied to a broken head, it insinuates that a soldier's wounds entitle him to universal reception. Johnson. The same quibble occurs in Sir John Oldcastle, 1600: “I'll none of your crack'd French crowns &lblank; “King. No crack'd French crowns! I hope to see more crack'd French crowns ere long. Priest. Thou mean'st of Frenchmen's crowns, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 533 7Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;] This line is borrowed from a proverbial sentence:—“A woman conceals what she knows not.” See Ray's Proverbs. Steevens.

Note return to page 534 8&lblank; their salvation, &lblank;] Thus the quartos. The folio reads: &lblank; their confidence,—out of which the modern editors have made—their conscience. Steevens.

Note return to page 535 9&lblank; Corinthian &lblank;] A wencher. Johnson. This cant expression is common in old plays. So Randolph, in The Jealous Lovers, 1632:   “&lblank; let him wench,   “Buy me all Corinth for him.” “Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum.” Again, in the tragedy of Nero, 1633: “Nor us, tho' Romans, Lais will refuse, “To Corinth any man may go.” Again, in Massinger's Great Duke of Florence: “Or the cold Cynic whom Corinthian Lais, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 536 1&lblank; and when you breathe &c.] A certain maxim of health attributed to the school of Salerno, may prove the best comment on this passage. I meet with the same expression in a MS. play of Timon of Athens, which from the hand-writing, appears to be at least as ancient as the time of Shakespeare: “&lblank; we also do enact “That all hold up their heads, and laugh aloud; “Drink much at one draught; breathe not in their drink; “That none go out to” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 537 2&lblank; this pennyworth of sugar, &lblank;] It appears from the following passage in Look about you, 1600, and some others, that the drawers kept sugar folded up in papers, ready to be delivered to those who called for sack: “&lblank; but do you hear? “Bring sugar in white paper, not in brown.” Shakespeare might perhaps allude to a custom mentioned by Deskar in the Guls Horn Book, 1609: “Enquire what gallants sup in the next roome, and if they be any of your acquaintance, do not you (after the city fashion) send them in a pottle of wine, and your name sweetened in two pittiful papers of sugar, with some filthy apologie cram'd into the mouth of a drawer, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 538 3&lblank; under-skinker, &lblank;] A tapster; an under-drawer. Skink is drink, and a skinker is one that serves drink at table. Johnson. Schenken, Dutch, is to fill a glass or cup; and schenker is a cup-bearer, one that waits at table to fill the glasses. An under-skinker is therefore, as Dr. Johnson has explained it, an under-drawer. Steevens.9Q0681

Note return to page 539 4Enter Francis.] This scene, helped by the distraction of the drawer, and grimaces of the prince, may entertain upon the stage, but affords not much delight to the reader. The author has judiciously made it short. Johnson.

Note return to page 540 5&lblank; chrystal-button, &lblank;] It appears from the following passage in Greene's Quip for an Upstart Courtier, 1620, that a leather jerkin with chrystal buttons was the habit of a pawn-broker: “&lblank; a black taffata doublet, and a spruce leather-jerkin with chrystal buttons, &c. I enquired of what occupation: Marry, sir, quoth he, a broker.” Steevens.

Note return to page 541 6&lblank; knot-pated, &lblank;] It should be printed as in the old folios, —nott-pated. So, in Chaucer's Cant. Tales, the Yeman is thus described: “A nott head had he with a brown visage.” A person was said to be nott-pated, when the hair was cut short and round; Ray says, the word is still used in Essex, for polled or shorn. Vid. Ray. Coll. p. 108. Morell's Chaucer, 3vo, p. 11. vid. Jun. Etym. ad verb. Percy. So, in The Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “&lblank; your nott-headed country gentleman.” Again, in Stowe's Annals for the Year 1535, 27th of Henry VIII: “He caused his owne head to bee polled, and from thenceforth his beard to bee notted and no more shaven.” In Barrett's Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, to notte the hair is the same as to cut it. Steevens.

Note return to page 542 7&lblank; puke-stocking, &lblank;] The prince intends to ask the drawer whether he will rob his master, whom he denotes by many contemptuous distinctions, of which all are easily intelligible but puke-stocking, which I cannot explain. Johnson. In a small book entitled, The Order of my Lorde Maior, &c. for their Meetinges and Wearing of theyr Apparel throughout the Yeere, printed in 1586: “the maior, &c. are commanded to appeare on Good Fryday in their pewke gowns, and without their chaynes and typetes.” Shelton, in his translation of Don Quixote, p. 2. says: “the rest and remnant of his estate was spent on a jerkine of fine puke.” Edit. 1612. In Salmon's Chymist's Shop laid open there is a receipt to make a puke colour. The ingredients are the vegetable gall and a large proportion of water; from which it should appear that the colour was grey. In Barrett's Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, a puke colour is explained as being a colour between russet and black, and is rendered in Latin pullus. Again, in Drant's translation of the eighth satire of Horace, 1567: “&lblank; nigra succinctam vadere palla.” “&lblank; ytuckde in pukishe frocke.” In the time of Shakespeare the most expensive silk stockings were worn; and in King Lear, by way of reproach, an attendant is called a worsted-stocking knave. So that, after all, perhaps the word puke refers to the quality of the stuff rather than to the colour. Steevens. Puke-stocking seems to be a contemptuous expression like our black-legg'd gentry of the turf. Dugdale's Warwickshire, 1730, p. 406, speaks of “a gown of black puke.” The statute 5 and 6 of Edward VI. c. 6. mentions cloth of these colours, “puke, brown-blue, blacks.” Hence puke seems not to be a perfect or full black, but it might be a russet blue, or rather a russet black, as Mr. Steevens intimates from Barrett's Alvearie. Tollet.

Note return to page 543 8&lblank; caddice-garter, &lblank;] Caddis was, I believe, a kind of coarse ferret. The garters of Shakespeare's time were worn in sight, and consequently were expensive. He who would submit to wear a coarser sort, was probably called by this contemptuous distinction, which I meet with again in Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable, 1639: “&lblank; dost hear, “My honest caddis-garters?” This is an address to a servant. Again, in the Witty Fair One, 1633: “&lblank; six footmen in caddis” are mentioned, i. e. with worsted lace on their clothes. Steevens.9Q0682

Note return to page 544 9&lblank; brown bastard &lblank;] Bastard was a kind of sweet wine. The prince finding the waiter not able, or not willing to understand his instigation, puzzles him with unconnected prattle, and drives him away. Johnson. In an old dramatic piece, entitled, Wine, Beer, Ale, and Tobacco, the second edition, 1630, Beer says to Wine: “Wine well born? Did not every man call you bastard but t'other day?” So, in Match me in London, an old comedy: “&lblank; Love you bastard? “No wines at all.” Again, in Every Woman in her Humour, com. 1609: “Canary is a jewel, and a fig for brown bastard.” Again, in The Honest Whore, a comedy by Deckar, 1635: “&lblank; What wine sent they for? “Ro. Bastard wine, for if it had been truely begotten, it would not have been asham'd to come in. Here's sixpence to pay for nursing the bastard.” Again, in The Fair Maid of the West, 1631: “I'll furnish you with bastard, white or brown, &c.” In the ancient metrical romance of the Squhr of lowe Degre, bl. l. no date, is the following catalogue of wines: “You shall have Rumney and Malmesyne, “Both Ypocrasse and Vernage wyne: “Mountrose, and wyne of Greke, “Both Algrade and Respice eke, “Antioche and Bastarde “Pyment also and Garnarde: “Wyne of Greke and Muscadell, “Both Clare-Pyment and Rochell, “The reed your stomach to defye, “And pottes of Osey set you by.” Steevens. Maison Rustique, translated by Markham, 1616, p. 635, says: “&lblank; such wines are called mungrell or bastard wines, which (betwixt the sweet and astringent ones) have neither manifest sweetness, nor manifest astriction, but indeed participate and contain in them both qualities.” Tollet. Barrett, however, in his Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, says, that “bastarde is muscadell, sweet wine.” Steevens.9Q0683

Note return to page 545 1&lblank; I am not yet of Percy's mind, &lblank;] The drawer's answer had interrupted the prince's train of discourse. He was proceeding thus: I am now of all humours that have shewed themselves humours—I am not yet of Percy's mind,—that is, I am willing to indulge myself in gaiety and frolick, and try all the varieties of human life. I am not yet of Percy's mind,—who thinks all the time lost that is not spent in bloodshed, forgets decency and civility, and has nothing but the barren talk of a brutal soldier. Johnson.

Note return to page 546 2&lblank; Ribi, &lblank;] That is, drink. Hanmer. All the former editions have rivo, which certainly had no meaning, but yet was perhaps the cant of English taverns. Johnson. This conjecture Mr. Farmer has supported by a quotation from Marston: “If thou art sad at others fate, “Rivo, drink deep, give care the mate.” I find the same word used in the comedy of Blurt Master Constable: “&lblank; Yet to endear ourselves to thy lean acquaintance, cry rivo ho! laugh and be fat, &c.” So, in Marston's What you will, 1607: “Sing, sing, or stay: we'll quaffe or any thing: “Rivo, saint Mark!” Again, in Law Tricks &c. 1608: “Rivo, I'll be singular; my royal expence shall run &c.” Again, in Marston's What you will, 1607: “&lblank; that rubs his guts, claps his paunch, and cries rivo, &c.” Again:—“Rivo, here's good juice, fresh borage, boys.” Steevens.

Note return to page 547 3&lblank; nether stocks, &lblank;] Nether stocks are stockings. See K. Lear, act II. sc. iv. Steevens.

Note return to page 548 4&lblank; pitiful hearted Titan! that melted at the sweet tale of the sun?] —This absurd reading possesses all the copies in general; and though it has passed through such a number of impressions, is nonsense; which we may pronounce to have arisen at first from the inadvertence, either of transcribers, or the compositors at press. 'Tis well known, Titan is one of the poetical names of the sun; but we have no authority from fable for Titan's melting away at his own sweet tale, as Narcissus did at the reflection of his own form. The poet's meaning was certainly this: Falstaff enters in a great heat, after having been robbed by the prince and Poins in disguise: and the prince seeing him in such a sweat, makes the following simile upon him: “Do but look upon that compound of grease;—his fat drips away with the violence of his motion, just as butter does with the heat of the sun-beams darting full upon it.” Theobald. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful-hearted Titan! that melted at the sweet tale of the sun?] This perplexes Mr. Theobald; he calls it nonsense, and, indeed, having made nonsense of it, changes it to pitiful-hearted butter. But the common reading is right: and all that wants restoring is a parenthesis, into which (pitiful-hearted Titan!) should be put. Pitiful hearted means only amorous, which was Titan's character: the pronoun that refers to butter. But the Oxford editor goes still further, and not only takes, without ceremony, Mr. Theobald's bread and butter, but turns tale into face; not perceiving that the heat of the sun is figuratively represented as a love-tale, the poet having before called him pitiful-hearted, or amorous. Warburton. I have left this passage as I found it, desiring only that the reader, who inclines to follow Dr. Warburton's opinion, will furnish himself with some proof that pitiful-hearted was ever used to signify amorous, before he pronounces this emendation to be just. I own I am unable to do it for him; and though I ought not to decide in favour of any violent proceedings against the text, must confess, that the reader who looks for sense as the words stand at present, must be indebted for it to Mr. Theobald. Shall I offer a bolder alteration? In the oldest copy, the contested part of this passage appears thus: &lblank; at the sweet tale of the sonnes. The author might have written pitiful-hearted Titan, who melted at the sweet tale of his son, i. e. of Phaëton, who by a plausible story won on the easy nature of his father so far, as to obtain from him the guidance of his own chariot for a day. As gross a mythological corruption perhaps occurs in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “The arm-strong offspring of the doubted knight, “Stout Hercules &c.” Thus all the copies, ancient and modern. But I should not hesitate to read—doubled night, i. e. the night lengthened to twice its usual proportion while Jupiter possessed himself of Alcmena; a circumstance with which every school-boy is acquainted. Steevens.

Note return to page 549 5&lblank; here's lime in this sack too: There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: &lblank;] Sir Richard Hawkins, one of queen Elizabeth's sea-captains, in his voyages, p. 379, says: “Since the Spanish sacks have been common in our taverns, which for conservation are mingled with lime in the making, our nation complains of calentures, of the stone, the dropsy, and infinite other distempers, not heard of before this wine came into frequent use. Besides, there is no year that it wasteth not two millions of crowns of our substance by conveyance into foreign countries.” This latter, indeed, was a substantial evil. But as to lime's giving the stone, this sure must be only the good old man's prejudice; since in a wiser age by far, an old woman made her fortune by shewing us that lime was a cure for the stone. Sir John Falstaff, were he alive again, would say she deserved it, for satisfying us that we might drink sack in safety: but that liquor has been long since out of date. I think lord Clarendon in his Apology, tells us, “That sweet wines before the Restoration were so much to the English taste, that we engrossed the whole product of the Canaries; and that not a pipe of it was expended in any other country in Europe.” But the banished cavaliers brought home with them the goust for French wines, which has continued ever since; and from whence, perhaps, we may more truly date the greater frequency of the stone. Warburton. Dr. Warburton does not consider that sack in Shakespeare is most probably thought to mean what we now call sherry, which when it is drank is still drank with sugar. Johnson. Rhenish is drank with sugar, but never sherry. Steevens.9Q0684 Eliot in his Orthoepia, 1593, speaking of sack and rhenish, says: “The vintners of London put in lime, and thence proceed infinite maladies, specially the gouttes.” Farmer.

Note return to page 550 6&lblank; I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms, &c.] In the persecutions of the protestants in Flanders under Philip II. those who came over into England on that occasion, brought with them the woollen manufactory. These were Calvinists, who were always distinguished for their love of psalmody. Warburton. In the first editions the passage is read thus; I could sing psalms or any thing. In the first folio thus: I could sing all manner of songs. Many expressions bordering on indecency or profaneness are found in the first editions, which are afterwards corrected. The reading of the three last editions, I could sing psalms and all manner of songs, is made without authority out of different copies. I believe nothing more is here meant than to allude to the practice of weavers, who, having their hands more employed than their minds, amuse themselves frequently with songs at the loom. The knight, being full of vexation, wishes he could sing to divert his thoughts. Weavers are mentioned as lovers of music in The Merchant of Venice. Perhaps “to sing like a weaver” might be proverbial. Johnson.9Q0685 Dr. Warburton's observation may be confirmed by the following passages. Ben Jonson, in the Silent Woman, makes Cutberd tell Morose, that “the parson caught his cold by sitting up late, and singing catches with cloth-workers.” So, in Jasper Maine's City Match, 1639: “Like a Geneva weaver in black, who left “The loom, and enter'd in the ministry, “For conscience sake.” Steevens. The protestants who fled from the persecution of the duke d'Alva were mostly weavers and woollen manufacturers: they settled in Glocestershire, Somersetshire and other counties, and (as Dr. Warburton observes) being Calvinists, were distinguished for their love of psalmody. For many years the inhabitants of these counties have excelled the rest of the kingdom in the skill of vocal harmony. Sir J. Hawkins.

Note return to page 551 7&lblank; a dagger of lath, &lblank;] i. e. such a dagger as the Vice in the old moralities was arm'd with. So, in Twelfth Night: “In a trice, like to the old Vice   “Your need to sustain: “Who with dagger of lath “In his rage and his wrath &c.” Again, in Like will to like, quoth the Devil to the Collier, 1587: the Vice says: “Come no neer me you knaves for your life, “Lest I stick you both with this wood knife. “Back, I say, back, you sturdy beggar; “Body o' me they have tane away my dagger.” And in the second part of this play, Falstaff calls Shallow a “Vice's dagger.” Steevens.

Note return to page 552 8&lblank; I would give a thousand pounds I could run as fast as thou canst. &lblank;] Shakespeare in his real characters, is to be depended on as a historian. Agility and fast running were among the qualifications of this young prince. “Omnes coætaneos suos saliendo præcessit, (says Thomas de Elmham, p. 12.) cursu veloci simul currentes prævenit. Bowle.” The quarto 1599, gives this speech to Poins. Steevens.

Note return to page 553 9&lblank; my buckler cut through and through; &lblank;] It appears from the old comedy of The two angry Women of Abington, that this method of defence and fight was in Shakespeare's time growing out of fashion. The play was published in 1599, and one of the characters in it makes the following observation: “I see by this dearth of good swords, that sword-and-buckler-fight begins to grow out. I am sorry for it; I shall never see good manhood again. If it be once gone, this poking fight of rapier and dagger will come up then. Then a tall man, and a good sword-and-buckler man, will be spitted like a cat, or a coney; then a boy will be as good as a man, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 554 1&lblank; an Ebrew Jew.] So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.” Steevens.

Note return to page 555 2Their points being broken—Down fell their hose.] To understand Poins's joke, the double meaning of point must be remembered, which signifies the sharp end of a weapon, and the lace of a garment. The cleanly phrase for letting down the hose, ad levandum alvum, was to untruss a point. Johnson.9Q0687 So, in the comedy of Wily Beguiled: “I was so near taken, that I was fain to cut all my points.” Again, in Sir Giles Goosecap, 1606: “&lblank; Help me to truss my points. &lblank; “I had rather see your hose about your heels, than I would help you to truss a point.” The same jest indeed had already occurred in Twelfth Night: “Clo. &lblank; I am resolv'd on two points. “Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.” Steevens.

Note return to page 556 3&lblank; Kendal &lblank;] Kendal in Westmorland, as I have been told, is a place famous for making cloths and dying them with several bright colours. To this purpose, Drayton, in the 30th song of his Polyolbion:   “&lblank; where Kendal town doth stand, “For making of our cloth scarce match'd in all the land.” Kendal green was the livery of Robert Earl of Huntington and his followers while they remained in a state of outlawry, and their leader assumed the title of Robin Hood. The colour is repeatedly mentioned in the old play on this subject, 1601: “&lblank; all the woods “Are full of outlaws, that, in Kendall green, “Follow the out-law'd earl of Huntington.” Again: “Then Robin will I wear thy Kendall green.” Again, in the Playe of Robyn Hoode verye proper to be played in Maye Games, bl. l. no date: “Here be a sort of ragged knaves come in, “Clothed all in Kendale grene.” Steevens.

Note return to page 557 4&lblank; tallow-catch, &lblank;] This word is in all editions, but having no meaning, cannot be understood. In some parts of the kingdom, a cake or mass of wax or tallow, is called a keech, which is doubtless the word intended here, unless we read tallow-ketch, that is, tub of tallow. Johnson. &lblank; tallow-catch, &lblank;] Tallow-keech is undoubtedly right, but ill explained in the note. A keech of tallow is the fat of an ox or cow rolled up by the butcher in a round lump, in order to be carried to the chandler. It is the proper word in use now. Percy. A keech is what is called a tallow loaf in Sussex, and in its form resembles the rotundity of a fat man's belly. Collins. Shakespeare calls the butcher's wife goody Keech in the second part of this play. Steevens. &lblank; tallow-catch, &lblank;] The conjectural emendation ketch, i. e. tub, is very ingenious. But the prince's allusion is sufficiently striking, if we alter not a letter; and only suppose that by tallow-catch, he means a receptacle for tallow. Warton.

Note return to page 558 5&lblank; you starveling, you elf-skin, &lblank;] For elf-skin sir Thomas Hanmer and Dr. Warburton read eel-skin. The true reading, I believe, is elf-kin, or little fairy: for though the Bastard in King John compares his brother's two legs to two eel-skins stuff'd, yet an eel-skin simply bears no great resemblance to a man. Johnson. &lblank; you starveling, &c.] In these comparisons Shakespeare was not drawing the picture of a little fairy, but of a man remarkably tall and thin, to whose shapeless uniformity of length, an “eel-skin stuff'd” (for that circumstance is implied) certainly bears a humorous resemblance, as do the taylor's yard, the tuck, or small sword set upright, &c. The comparisons of the stock-fish and dry'd neat's tongue, allude to the leanness of the prince. The reading—eel-skin is supported likewise by the passage already quoted from K. John, and by Falstaff's description of the lean Shallow in the second part of K. Henry IV. Shakespeare had historical authority for the leanness of the prince of Wales. Stowe, speaking of him, says, “he exceeded the mean stature of men, his neck long, body slender and lean, and his bones small, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 559 6&lblank; the lion will not touch the true prince. &lblank;] So, in the Mad Lover, by B. and Fletcher: “Fetch the Numidian lion I brought over; “If she be sprung from royal blood, the lion “Will do her reverence, else he'll tear her &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 560 7&lblank; Instinct is a great matter; &lblank;] Diego, the Host, in Love's Pilgrimage, by Beaumont and Fletcher, excuses a rudeness he had been guilty of to one of his guests, in almost the same words. “&lblank; should I have been so barbarous to have parted brothers? “Philippo. &lblank; You knew it then? “Diego. &lblank; I knew 'twas necessary “You should be both together. Instinct, signior, “Is a great matter in an host.” Steevens.

Note return to page 561 8&lblank; there is a nobleman &lblank; Give him as much as will make him a royal man, &lblank;] I believe here is a kind of jest intended. He that received a noble was, in cant language, called a nobleman: in this sense the prince catches the word, and bids the landlady give him as much as will make him a royal man, that is, a real or royal man, and send him away. Johnson. So, in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “This is not noble sport, but royal play. “It must be so where royals walk so fast.” Steevens.

Note return to page 562 [8] Give him as much as will make him a royal man, &lblank;] The royal went for 10 s.—the noble only for 6 s. and 8 d. Tyrwhitt. This seems to allude to a jest of queen Elizabeth. Mr. John Blower in a sermon before her majesty, first said: “My royal queen,” and a little after: “My noble queen.” Upon which says the queen: “What am I ten groats worse than I was?” This is to be found in Hearne's Discourse of some Antiquities between Windsor and Oxford; and it confirms the remark of the very learned and ingenious Mr. Tyrwhitt. Tollet.

Note return to page 563 9&lblank; to tickle our noses with spear-grass, &c.] So, in the old anonymous play of The Victories of Henry the Fifth: “Every day when I went into the field, I would take a straw and thrust it into my nose and make my nose bleed &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 564 1&lblank; the blood of true men. &lblank;] That is, of the men with whom they fought, of honest man, opposed to thieves. Johnson.

Note return to page 565 2&lblank; taken in the manner, &lblank;] the quarto and folio read —with the manner, which is right. Taken with the manner is a law phrase, and then in common use, to signify taken in the fact. But the Oxford editor alters it, for better security of the sense, to &lblank; taken in the manor, &lblank; i. e. I suppose, by the lord of it, as a stray. Warburton. The expression—taken in the manner, or with the manner, is common to many of our old dramatic writers. So, in B. and Fletcher's Rule a Wife and have a Wife: “How like a sheep-biting rogue, taken in the manner, “And ready for a halter, dost thou look now?” Again, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “Take them not in the manner, tho' you may.” Perhaps it is a corruption of “taken in the manœuvre;” yet I know not that this French word, in the age of Shakespeare, had acquired its present sense. Steevens. Manour or Mainour or Maynour an old law-term, (from the French mainaver or manier, Lat. manu tractare) signifies the thing which a thief takes away or steals: and to be taken with the manour or mainour is to be taken with the thing stolen about him, or doing an unlawful act, flagrante delicto, or, as we say, in the fact. The expression is much used in the forest-laws. See Manwood's edition in quarto, 1665, p. 292. where it is spelt manner. Hawkins.

Note return to page 566 3&lblank; Thou hadst fire and sword &c.] The fire was in his face. A red face is termed a fiery face. “While I affirm a fiery face: “Is to the owner no disgrace.” Legend of Capt. Jones. Johnson.

Note return to page 567 4Hot livers, and cold purses.] That is, drunkenness and poverty. To drink was, in the language of those times, to beat the liver. Johnson.

Note return to page 568 5Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. No, if rightly taken, halter.] The reader who would enter into the spirit of this repartee, must recollect the similarity of sound between collar and choler. So, in King John and Matilda, 16 &lblank; “O Bru. Son, you're too full of choler. “Y. Bru. Choler! halter. “Fitz. By the mass, that's near the collar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 569 6&lblank; bombast? &lblank;] Is the stuffing of cloaths. Johnson. Stubbs, in his Anatomie of Abuses, 1595, observes, that in his time “the doublettes were so hard quilted, stuffed, bombasted, and sewed, as they could neither worke, nor yet well play in them.” And again, in the same chapter, he adds, that they were “stuffed with foure, five, or sixe pounde of bombast at least.” Again, in Deckar's Satiromastix: “You shall swear not to bombast out a new play with the old linings of jests.” Bombast is cotton. Gerard calls the cotton plant “the bombast tree.” Steevens.

Note return to page 570 7&lblank; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring:] Aristophanes has the same thought: &grD;&gri;&grag; &grd;&gra;&grk;&grt;&gru;&grl;&gria;&gro;&gru; &grm;&greg;&grn; &gro;&grusc;&grn; &gres;&grm;&grea; &grg;&grap; &grarg;&grn; &grd;&gri;&gre;&grl;&grk;&grua;&grs;&gra;&gri;&grst;. Plutus, v. 1037. Sir W. Rawlinson. An alderman's thumb-ring is mentioned by Brome in the Antipodes, 1638: “&lblank; Item, a distich graven in his thumb-ring.” Again, in the Northern Lass, 1633: “A good man in the city &c. wears nothing rich about him, but the gout, or a thumb-ring.” Again, in Wit in a Constable, 1640: “&lblank; no more wit than the rest of the bench: what lies in his thumb-ring.” The custom of wearing a ring on the thumb is very ancient. In Chaucer's Squier's Tale, it is said of the rider of the brazen horse who advanced into the hall of Cambuscan, that “&lblank; upon his thombe he had of gold a ring.” Steevens.

Note return to page 571 8&lblank; sir John Braby &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quarto 1598, reads:—Bracy. Steevens.

Note return to page 572 9&lblank; upon the cross of a Welsh hook, &lblank;] A Welsh hook appears to have been some instrument of the offensive kind. It is mentioned in the play of Sir John Oldcastle: “&lblank; that no man presume to wear any weapons, especially welsh-hooks and forest-bills.” Again, in Westward Hoe, by Deckar and Webster, 1607: “&lblank; it will be as good as a Welsh-hook for you, to keep out the other at staves-end.” Again, in Northward Hoe, by the same, 1607, a captain says: “&lblank; I know what kisses be, as well as I know a Welch-hook.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Masque for the honour of Wales: “&lblank; Owen Glendower, with a Welse hook, and a goat-skin on his back.” “Enter with Welch hooks Rice-ap-Howell a Mower, and the Earl of Leicester.” K. Edward II. 1622. Again, in K. Edward I. 1599: “And scour the marches with your Welchmen's hooks.” Again, in the Insatiate Countess, by Marston 1631: “The ancient hooks of great Cadwallader.” Mr. Tollet apprehends from the hooked form of the following instrument, as well as from the cross upon it, as upon other ancient swords, that it is the Welch hook mentioned by Falstaff. This was copied by him from Speed's History of Great Britain, p. 180. I believe the Welch hook and the brown bill are no more than varieties of the securis falcata, or probably a weapon of the same kind with the Lochabar axe, which was used in the late rebellion. Colonel Gardner was attacked with such a one at the battle of Prestonpans. In the old ballad, however, of King Alfred and the Shepherd, (see Evans's Collection, vol. I. p. 20.) the Shepherd swears by his hook: “And by my hook, the shepherd said,   “(an oath both good and true) &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 573 1&lblank; pistol &lblank;] Shakespeare never has any care to preserve the manners of the time. Pistols were not known in the age of Henry. Pistols were, I believe, about our author's time, eminently used by the Scots. Sir Henry Wotton somewhere makes mention of a Scottish pistol. Johnson. B. and Fletcher are still more inexcusable. In The Humorous Lieutenant, they have equipped one of the immediate successors of Alexander the Great, with the same weapon. Steevens.

Note return to page 574 2&lblank; blue caps &lblank;] A name of ridicule given to the Scots from their blue bonnets. Johnson.

Note return to page 575 3&lblank; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; &lblank;] I think Montaigne mentions a person condemned to death, whose hair turned grey in one night. Tollet. Nash, in his Have with you to Saffron Walden &c. 1596, says: “&lblank; looke and you shall finde a grey haire for everie line I have writ against him; and you shall have all his beard white too, by the time he hath read over this booke.” The reader may find more examples of this phænomenon in Grimeston's translation of Goulart's Memorable Histories. Steevens.

Note return to page 576 4&lblank; you may buy land, &c.] In former times the prosperity of the nation was known by the value of land, as now by the price of stocks. Before Henry the Seventh made it safe to serve the king regnant, it was the practice at every revolution, for the conqueror to confiscate the estates of those that opposed, and perhaps of those who did not assist him. Those, therefore, that foresaw a change of government, and thought their estates in danger, were desirous to sell them in haste for something that might be carried away. Johnson.

Note return to page 577 5Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life.] In the old anonymous play of Henry V. the same strain of humour is discoverable: “Thou shalt be my lord chief justice, and shall sit in the chair, and I'll be the young prince and hit thee a box on the ear &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 578 6&lblank; This chair shall be my state, &lblank;] This, as well as a following passage, was perhaps designed to ridicule the mock majesty of Cambyses, the hero of a play which appears from Deckar's Gul's Hornbook, 1609, to have been exhibited with some degree of theatrical pomp. Deckar is ridiculing the impertinence of young gallants who sat or stood on the stage; “on the very rushes where the commedy is to daunce, yea and under the state of Cambises himselfe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 579 7&lblank; this cushion my crown.] Dr. Letherland, in a MS. note, observes, that the country people in Warwickshire use a cushion for a crown, at their harvest-home diversions; and in the play of K. Edward IV. p. 2. 1619, is the following passage: “Then comes a slave, one of those drunken sots, “In with a tavern reck'ning for a supplication, “Disguised with a cushion on his head.” Steevens.

Note return to page 580 8Thy state, &c.] This answer might, I think, have better been omitted: it contains only a repetition of Falstaff's mock-royalty. Johnson. This is an apostrophe of the prince to his absent father, not an answer to Falstaff. Farmer.

Note return to page 581 9&lblank; king Cambyses &lblank;] A lamentable tragedy, mixed full of pleasant mirth, containing the life of Cambyses king of Persia. By Thomas Preston. Theobald. I question if Shakespeare had ever seen this tragedy; for there is a remarkable peculiarity of measure, which, when he professed to speak in king Cambyses' vein, he would hardly have missed, if he had known it. Johnson. There is a marginal direction in the old play of king Cambises. “At this tale tolde, let the queen weep;” which I fancy is alluded to, though the measure is not preserved. Farmer. See a note on the Midsummer Night's Dream, act IV. scene the last. Steevens.

Note return to page 582 1&lblank; my leg.] That is, my obeisance to my father. Johnson.

Note return to page 583 2&lblank; the flood-gates of her eyes.] This passage is probably a burlesque on the following in Preston's Cambyses: “Queen. These words to hear makes stilling teares issue from chrystall eyes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 584 3&lblank; harlotry players, &lblank;] This word is used in the Plowman's Tale: “Soche harlotre men &c.” Again, in P. P. fol. 27. “I had lever here an harlotry, or a somer's game.” Junius explains the word by “inhonesta paupertinæ sortis fœditas.” Steevens.

Note return to page 585 4&lblank; tickle-brain &lblank;] This appears to have been the nick name of some strong liquor. So, in A new Trick to cheat the Devil 1636: “A cup of Nipsitate brisk and neat, “The drawers call it tickle-brain.” In the Antipodes, 1638, settle-brain is mentioned as another potation. Steevens.

Note return to page 586 5&lblank; Harry, I do not only marvel &c.] A ridicule on the public oratory of that time. Warburton.

Note return to page 587 6&lblank; though the camomile, &c.] This whole speech is supremely comic. The simile of camomile used to illustrate a contrary effect, brings to my remembrance an observation of a late writer of some merit, whom the desire of being witty has betrayed into a like thought. Meaning to enforce with great vehemence the mad temerity of young soldiers, he remarks, that “though Bedlam be in the road to Hogsden, it is out of the way to promotion.” Johnson. In The More the Merrier, a collection of epigrams, 1608, is the following passage: “The camomile shall teach thee patience, “Which thriveth best when trodden most upon.” Again, in The Fawne, a comedy, by Marston, 1606: “For indeed, sir, a repress'd fame mounts like camomile, the more trod down the more it grows.” Steevens. The style immediately ridiculed, is that of Lilly in his Euphues: “Though the camomile the more it is troden and pressed downe, the more it spreadeth; yet the violet the oftner it is handled and touched, the sooner it withereth and decayeth, &c.” Farmer.

Note return to page 588 7&lblank; a micher, &lblank;] i. e. truant; to mich, is to lurk out of sight, a hedge-creeper. Warburton. The allusion is to a truant boy, who, unwilling to go to school, and afraid to go home, lurks in the fields, and picks wild fruits. Johnson. In A Comment on the Ten Commandments, printed at London in 1493, by Richard Pynson, I find the word thus used: “They make Goddes house a den of theyves; for commonly in such feyrs and markets, wheresoever it be holden, ther ben many theyves, michers, and cutpurse.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “Pox on him, micher, I'll make him pay for it.” Again, in Lilly's Mother Bombie, 1594: “How like a micher he stands, as though he had truanted from honesty.” “&lblank; that mite is miching in this grove.” ibidem. “The micher hangs down his head.” ibidem. Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Look to it micher.” Again, in the old Morality of Hycke Scorner: “Wanton wenches and also michers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 589 8If then the fruit, &c.] This passage is happily restored by sir Thomas Hanmer. Johnson. I am afraid here is a profane allusion to the 33d verse of the 12th chapter of St. Matthew. Steevens.

Note return to page 590 9&lblank; rabbet-sucker, &lblank;] Is, I suppose, a sucking rabbet. The jest is in comparing himself to something thin and little. So a poulterer's hare; a hare hung up by the hind legs without a skin, is long and slender. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is right: for in the account of the serjeant's feast, by Dugdale, in his Orig. Juridiciales, one article is a dozen of rabbet-suckers. Again, in The Two Angry Women of Abington: “Close as a rabbit-sucker from an old coney.” Again, in The Wedding, by Shirley, 1626: “These whorson rabbit-suckers will never leave the ground.” Again, in Lylly's Endymion, 1591: “I prefer an old coney before a rabbit-sucker.” Again, in The Tryal of Chivalry, 1599: “&lblank; a bountiful benefactor for sending thither such rabbit-suckers.” Again, in the Witty Fair One, 1633: “Thou shouldst hunt, as I do, these wanton rabbit-suckers.” A poulterer was formerly written—a poulter, and so the old copies of this play. Thus in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication to the Devil, 1595: “We must have our tables furnisht like poulters' stalles.” Steevens.

Note return to page 591 1&lblank; bolting-hutch &lblank;] Bolting-hutch is, I think, a meal-bag. Johnson. &lblank; a bolting-hutch &lblank;] Is the wooden receptacle into which the meal is bolted. Steevens.

Note return to page 592 2&lblank; Manning-tree ox &lblank;] Of the Manning-tree ox I can give no account, but the meaning is clear. Johnson. Manning-tree in Essex, and the neighbourhood of it, is famous for richness of pasture. The farms thereabouts are chiefly tenanted by graziers. Some ox of an unusual size was, I suppose, roasted there on an occasion of public festivity, or exposed for money to public show. Steevens.9Q0690

Note return to page 593 3&lblank; cunning, &lblank;] Cunning was not yet debased to a bad meaning: it signified knowing, or skilful. Johnson.

Note return to page 594 4&lblank; take me with you; &lblank;] That is, go no faster than I can follow you. Let me know your meaning. Johnson. Lilly in his Endimion, says: “Tush, tush, neighbours, take me with you.” Farmer. The expression is so common in the old plays, that it is unnecessary to introduce any more quotations in support of it. Steevens.

Note return to page 595 5&lblank; If sack and sugar be a fault, &lblank;] Sack with sugar was a favourite liquor in Shakespeare's time. In a letter describing queen Elizabeth's entertainment at Killingworth-castle, 1575, by R. L. [Langham] bl. l. 12mo, the writer says, (p. 86.) “sipt I no more sak and suger than I do Malmzey, I should not blush so much a dayz az I doo.” And in another place, describing a minstrell, who, being somewhat irascible, had been offended at the company, he adds: “at last, by sum entreaty, and many fair woords, with sak and suger, we sweeten him again.” p. 52. In an old MS. book of the chamberlain's accounts belonging to the city of Worcester, I also find the following article, which points out the origin of our word sack, [Fr. sec.] viz. “&lblank; Anno Eliz. xxxiiij. [1592.] Item, For a gallon of clarett wyne, and seck and a pound of sugar geven to sir John Russell, iiij.s.”— This sir John Russell, I believe, was their representative in parliament, or at least had prosecuted some suit for them at the court.—In the same book, is another article, which illustrates the history of the stage at that time, viz. “A. Eliz. xxxiiij. Item, Bestowed upon the queen's trumpeters and players, iiij. lb.” Percy. This liquor is likewise mentioned in The Wild Goose Chase of B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; You shall find us in the tavern, “Lamenting in sack and sugar for your losses.” Again, in Monsieur Thomas by Fletcher, 1639:   “Old sack, boy, “Old reverend sack &c. &lblank;   “Drink with sugar “Which I have ready here.” Again, in Northward Hoe, 1607: “I use not to be drunk with sack and sugar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 596 6&lblank; a fiddle-stick: &lblank;] I suppose this phrase is proverbial. It occurs in the Humorous Lieutenant of B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; for certain, gentlemen, “The fiend rides on a fiddlestick.” Steevens.

Note return to page 597 7&lblank; hide thee behind the arras; &lblank;] The bulk of Falstaff made him not the fittest to be concealed behind the hangings, but every poet sacrifices something to the scenery; if Falstaff had not been hidden he could not have been found asleep, nor had his pockets searched. Johnson. In old houses there were always large spaces left between the arras and the walls, sufficient to contain even one of Falstaff's bulk. Such are those which Fantome mentions in The Drummer. Again, in the Bird in a Cage, 1633: “Does not the arras laugh at me, it shakes methinks. “Kat. It cannot chuse, there's one behind doth tickle it.” Again, in Northward Hoe, 1607: “&lblank; but softly as a gentleman courts a wench behind the arras.” Again, in King John, act IV. sc. i: “Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand “Within the arras.” &lblank; In Much Ado about Nothing, Borachio says: “I whipt me behind the arras.” Polonius is killed through the arras. See likewise Holinshed, vol. III. p. 594. See also my note on the second scene of the first act of K. Richard II. Steevens. So, in Brathwaite's Survey of Histories, 1614: “Pyrrhus to terrifie Fabius, commanded his guard to place an elephant behind the arras.” Malone.

Note return to page 598 8The man, I do assure you, is not here;] Every reader must regret that Shakespeare would not give himself the trouble to furnish prince Henry with some more pardonable excuse; without obliging him to have recourse to an absolute falshood, and that too uttered under the sanction of so strong an assurance. Steevens.

Note return to page 599 9Go, call him forth.] The scenery here is somewhat perplexed. When the sheriff came, the whole gang retired, and Falstaff was hidden. As soon as the sheriff is sent away, the prince orders Falstaff to be called: by whom? by Peto. But why had not Peto gone up stairs with the rest? and if he had, why did not the rest come down with him? The conversation that follows between the prince and Peto, seems to be apart from the others. I cannot but suspect that for Peto we should read Poins: what had Peto done, that his place should be honourable, or that he should be trusted with the plot against Falstaff? Poins has the prince's confidence, and is a man of courage. This alteration clears the whole difficulty: they all retired but Poins, who, with the prince, having only robbed the robbers, had no need to conceal himself from the travellers. We may therefore boldly change the scenical direction thus: Exeunt Falstaff, Bardolph, Gads-hill, and Peto; manent the Prince and Poins. Johnson.

Note return to page 600 1&lblank; I know his death will be a march of twelve-score. &lblank;] i. e. It will kill him to march so far as twelvescore yards. Johnson. Ben Jonson uses the same expression in his Sejanus: “That look'd for salutations twelve-score off.” Again, in Westward Hoe, 1606: “I'll get my twelve-score off, and give aim.” Steevens.

Note return to page 601 2&lblank; induction &lblank;] That is, entrance; beginning. Johnson. An induction was anciently something introductory to a play. Such is the business of the Tinker, previous to the performance of the Taming of a Shrew. Shakespeare often uses the word, which his attendance on the theatres might have familiarized to his conception. Thus, in K. Richard III: “Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous.” Steevens.

Note return to page 602 3&lblank; at my nativity, &c.] Most of these prodigies appear to have been invented by Shakespeare. Holinshed says only: “Strange wonders happened at the nativity of this man; for the same night he was born, all his father's horses in the stable were found to stand in blood up to their bellies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 603 4&lblank; Of burning cressets; &lblank;] A cresset was a great light set upon a beacon, light-house, or watch-tower: from the French word croissette, a little cross, because the beacons had anciently crosses on the top of them. Hanmer. So, in Histriomastix, or the Player Whipt, 1610: “Come Cressida my cresset light, “Thy face doth shine both day and night.” In the reign of Elizabeth, Holinshed says: “The countie Palatine of Rhene was conveied by cresset-light, and torch-light to sir J. Gresham's [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 604 for Sir J. Gresham, read, Sir T. Gresham.

Note return to page 605 5Diseased nature &lblank;] The poet has here taken, from the perverseness and contrariousness of Hotspur's temper, an opportunity of raising his character, by a very rational and philosophical confutation of superstitious error. Johnson.

Note return to page 606 6&lblank; the old beldame earth, &lblank;] Beldame is not used here as a term of contempt, but in the sense of ancient mother. Belle age, Fr. Drayton, in the 8th song of his Polyolbion, uses bel-sire in the same sense: “As his great bel-sire Brute from Albion's heirs it won.” Again, in the 14th song: “When he his long descent shall from his bel-sires bring.” Beau pere is French for father-in-law, but this word employed by Drayton seems to have no such meaning. Perhaps beldame originally meant a grand-mother. So, in Shakespeare's Tarquin and Lucrece: “To shew the beldame daughters of her daughter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 607 7Booteless &lblank;] Thus one of the old editions; and without reading booteless (i. e. making the word a trissyllable) the metre will be defective. Steevens.

Note return to page 608 8&lblank; cranking in,] Perhaps we should read—crankling. So, Drayton in his Polyolbion, song 7: “Hath not so many turns, nor crankling nooks as she.” Steevens.

Note return to page 609 9&lblank; cantle out.] A cantle is a corner, or piece of any thing, in the same sense that Horace uses angulus:   “O si angulus ille “Proximus arridet!” Canton, Fr. canto, Ital. signify a corner. To cantle is a verb used in Decker's Whore of Babylon, 1607: “That this vast globe terrestrial should be cantled.” The substantive occurs in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 1: “Rude Neptune cutting in a cantle forth doth take.” Again, in a New Trick to cheat the Devil, 1636: “Not so much as a cantell of cheese or crust of bread.” Steevens.

Note return to page 610 1For I was train'd up in the English court:] The real name of Owen Glendower was Vaughan, and he was originally a barrister of the Middle Temple. Steevens.

Note return to page 611 2&lblank; the tongue &lblank;] The English language. Johnson.

Note return to page 612 3&lblank; a brazen candlestick turn'd,] The word candlestick, which destroys the harmony of the line, is written—canstick in the quartos 1598, 1599, and 1608; and so it might have been pronounced. Heywood and several of the old writers, constantly spell it in this manner. Kit with the canstick is one of the spirits mentioned by Reginald Scott, 1584. Again, in The Famous Hist. of Tho. Stukely, 1605, bl. l. “If he have so much as a canstick, I am a traitor.” Hotspur's idea likewise occurs in A New Trick to cheat the Devil, 1636: “As if you were to lodge in Lothbury, “Where they turn brazen candlesticks.” And again, in Ben Jonson's masque of Witches Metamorphosed: “From the candlesticks of Lothbury, “And the loud pure wives of Banbury.” Steevens.

Note return to page 613 4(I'll haste the writer) &lblank;] He means the writer of the articles. Pope. I suppose, to complete the measure, we should read: I'll in and haste the writer; for he goes out immediately. Steevens.

Note return to page 614 5&lblank; of the moldwarp and the ant,] This alludes to an old prophecy, which is said to have induced Owen Glendower to take arms against king Henry. See Hall's Chronicle, fol. 20. Pope. So, in The Mirror of Magistrates, 1563, (written by Phaer, the translator of Virgil) Owen Glendower is introduced speaking of himself: “And for to set us hereon more agog, “A prophet came (a vengeance take them all!) “Affirming Henry to be Gogmagog, “Whom Merlin doth a mouldwarpe ever call, “Accurs'd of God, that must be brought in thrall, “By a wolfe, a dragon, and a lion strong, “Which should divide his kingdom them among.” The mould-warp is the mole, so called because it renders the surface of the earth unlevel by the hillocks which it raises. Steevens.

Note return to page 615 6&lblank; skimble-skamble stuff] So, in Taylor the water-poet's Description of a Wanton: “Here's a sweet deal of scimble scamble stuff.” Steevens.

Note return to page 616 7In reckoning up the several devils' names] See Reginald Scott's Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584, b. xv. ch. 2. p. 377, where the reader may find his patience as severely exercised as that of Hotspur, and on the same occasion. Shakespeare must certainly have seen this book. Steevens.

Note return to page 617 8&lblank; profited In strange concealments; &lblank;] Skilled in wonderful secrets. Johnson.

Note return to page 618 9&lblank; too wilful-blame;] This is a mode of speech with which I am not acquainted. Perhaps it might be read—too wilful-blunt, or too wilful-bent; or thus: Indeed, my lord, you are to blame, too wilful. Johnson.

Note return to page 619 1O, I am ignorance itself in this.] Massinger uses the same expression in The Unnatural Combat: “&lblank; in this you speak, sir, “I am ignorance itself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 620 2All on the wanton rushes lay you down,] It was the custom in this country, for many ages, to strew the floors with rushes as we now cover them with carpets. Johnson. All was a modern addition. The old copies only read on. Steevens.

Note return to page 621 3And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep,] The expression is fine; intimating, that the god of sleep should not only sit on his eye-lids, but that he should sit crown'd, that is, pleased and delighted. Warburton. The same image (whatever idea it was meant to convey) occurs in Philaster: “&lblank; who shall take up his lute, “And touch it till he crown a silent sleep “Upon my eyelid.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 622 4Making such difference betwixt wake and sleep,] She will lull you by her song into soft tranquillity, in which you shall be so near to sleep as to be free from perturbation, and so much awake as to be sensible of pleasure; a state partaking of sleep and wakefulness, as the twilight of night and day. Johnson.

Note return to page 623 5&lblank; our book, &lblank;] Our papers of conditions. Johnson.

Note return to page 624 6And those musicians that shall play to you, Hang in the air &lblank; Yet &c.] The particle yet being used adversatively, must have a particle of concession preceding it. I read therefore: And tho' th' musicians &lblank; Warburton. We need only alter or explain and to an, which often signifies in Shakespeare, if or though. So, in this play: “An I have not forgot what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn.” Malone.9Q0698 And for an is frequently used by old writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 625 7Neither; 'tis a woman's fault.] I do not plainly see what is a woman's fault. Johnson. It is a woman's fault, is spoken ironically. Farmer. This is a proverbial expression. I find it in the Birth of Merlin, 1662; “'Tis a woman's fault: p&wblank; of this bashfulness.” Again: “A woman's fault, we are subject to it, sir.” I believe the meaning is this: Hotspur having declared his resolution neither to have his head broken, nor to sit still, slily adds, that such is the usual fault of women; i. e. never to do what they are bid or desired to do. Steevens.

Note return to page 626 8&lblank; Finsbury.] Open walks and fields near Chiswell street London Wall, by Moorgate; the common resort of the citizens, as appears from many of our ancient comedies. Steevens.

Note return to page 627 9&lblank; such protests of pepper ginger-bread,] i. e. protestations as common as the letters which children learn from an alphabet of ginger-bread. What we now call spice ginger-bread was then called pepper ginger-bread. Steevens.

Note return to page 628 1&lblank; velvet-guards, &lblank;] To such as have their cloaths adorned with shreds of velvet, which was, I suppose, the finery of cockneys. Johnson. “The cloaks, doublets, &c.” (says Stubbs, in his Anatomie of Abuses) “were guarded with velvet guards, or else laced with costly lace.” Speaking of womens' gowns, he adds: “they must be guarded with great guards of velvet, every guard four or six fingers broad at the least.” So, in the Male-content, 1606: “You are in good case since you came to court; garded, garded. “Yes faith, even footmen and bawds wear velvet.” Velvet guards appear, however, to have been a city fashion. So, in Histriomastix, 1610: “Nay, I myself will wear the courtly grace: “Out on these velvet guards, and black-lac'd sleeves, “These simpring fashions simply followed!” Again: “I like this jewel; I'll have his fellow. &lblank; “How!—you!—what fellow it?—gip velvet guards!” Steevens.

Note return to page 629 2'Tis the next way to turn tailor, &c.] I suppose Percy means, that singing is a mean quality, and therefore he excuses his lady. Johnson. The next way—is the nearest way. So, in Lingua, &c. 1607: “The quadrature of a circle; the philosopher's stone; and the next way to the Indies.” Taylors seem to have been as remarkable for singing, as weavers, of whose musical turn Shakespeare has more than once made mention. B. and Fletcher, in the Knight of the Burning Pestle, speak of this quality in the former: “Never trust a taylor that does not sing at his work; his mind is on nothing but filching.” The honourable Daines Barrington observes, that “a gold-finch still continues to be called a proud tailor, in some parts of England; (particularly Warwickshire, Shakespeare's native country) which renders this passage intelligible, that otherwise seems to have no meaning whatsoever.” Perhaps this bird is called proud tailor, because his plumage is varied like a suit of clothes made out of remnants of different colours, such as a tailor might be supposed to wear. The sense then will be this:—The next thing to singing oneself, is to teach birds to sing, the gold-finch and the Robin. I hope the poet meant to inculcate, that singing is a quality destructive to its possessor; and that after a person has ruined himself by it, he may be reduced to the necessity of instructing birds in an art which can render birds alone more valuable. Steevens.

Note return to page 630 3&lblank; our book is drawn; &lblank;] i. e. our articles. Every composition, whether play, ballad, or history, was called a book, on the registers of ancient publication. Steevens.

Note return to page 631 4For some displeasing service &lblank;] Service for action, simply. Warburton.

Note return to page 632 5&lblank; in thy passages of life,] i. e. in the passages of thy life. Steevens.

Note return to page 633 6&lblank; such lewd, such mean attempts,] Shakespeare certainly wrote attaints, i. e. unlawful actions. Warburton. Mean attempts, are mean, unworthy undertakings. Lewd does not in this place barely signify wanton, but licentious. So, B. Jonson, in his Poetaster: “&lblank; great action may be su'd “'Gainst such as wrong mens' fames with verses lewd.” And again, in Volpone: “&lblank; they are most lewd impostors, “Made all of terms and shreds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 634 7Yet such extenuation let me beg, &c.] The construction is somewhat obscure. Let me beg so much extenuation, that, upon confutation of many false charges, I may be pardoned some that are true. I should read on reproof, instead of in reproof; but concerning Shakespeare's particles there is no certainty. Johnson.

Note return to page 635 8&lblank; pick-thanks &lblank;] i. e. officious parasites. So, in the tragedy of Mariam, 1613: “Base pick-thank devil.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 636 9Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,] The prince was removed from being president of the council, immediately after he struck the judge. Steevens.

Note return to page 637 1&lblank; loyal to possession; &lblank;] True to him that had then possession of the crown. Johnson.

Note return to page 638 2And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,] This is an allusion to the story of Prometheus's theft, who stole fire from thence; and as with this he made a man, so with that Bolingbroke made a king. As the gods were supposed jealous in appropriating reason to themselves, the getting fire from thence, which lighted it up in the mind, was called a theft; and as power is their prerogative, the getting courtesy from thence, by which power is best procured, is called a theft. The thought is exquisitely great and beautiful. Warburton.9Q0703 Massinger has adopted this expression in The great Duke of Florence: “&lblank; Giovanni, “A prince in expectation, when he liv'd here, “Stole courtesy from heaven; and would not to “The meanest servant in my father's house “Have kept such distance.” Steevens.

Note return to page 639 3&lblank; rash, bavin wits,] Rash is heady, thoughtless: bavin is brushwood, which, fired, burns fiercely, but is soon out. Johnson. So, in Mother Bombie, 1594: “Bavins will have their flashes, and youth their fancies, the one as soon quenched as the other burnt.” Again, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: “Love is like a bavin, but a blaze.” Steevens.

Note return to page 640 4&lblank; carded his state,] Richard is here represented as laying aside his royalty, and mixing himself with common jesters. This will lead us to the true reading, which I suppose is: &lblank; 'scarded his state, i. e. discarded, threw off. Warburton. &lblank; carded his state,] The metaphor seems to be taken from mingling coarse wool with fine, and carding them together, whereby the value of the latter is diminished. The king means that Richard mingled and carded together his royal state with carping fools, &c. A subsequent part of the speech gives a sanction to this explanation: “For thou hast lost thy princely privilege “With vile participation.” To card is used by other writers for, to mix. So, in the Tamer Tamed, by B. and Fletcher: “But mine is such a drench of balderdash, “Such a strange carded cunningness.” Again, in Greene's Quip for an Upstart Courtier, 1620: “&lblank; you card your beer, (if you see your guests begin to be drunk) half small, half strong, &c.” Again, in Nashe's Have with you to Saffron Walden, &c. 1596: “&lblank; he being constrained to betake himself to carded ale.” Shakespeare has a similar thought in All's Well that ends Well: “The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.” The original hint for this note I received from Mr. Tollet. Steevens. Mr. Steevens very rightly supports the old reading. The word is used by Shelton in his translation of Don Quixote. The Tinker, in the introduction to the Taming of the Shrew, was by education a card-maker. Farmer.

Note return to page 641 5&lblank; carping fools;] Jesting, prating, &c. This word had not yet acquired the sense which it bears in modern speech. Chaucer says of his Wife of Bath, Prol. 470: “In felawship wele could she laugh and carpe.” Warton. The quarto 1598, reads cap'ring fools, which I believe to be right because it asks no explanation. Steevens.

Note return to page 642 6And gave his countenance, against his name,] Made his presence injurious to his reputation. Johnson.

Note return to page 643 7Of every beardless, vain comparative:] Of every boy whose vanity incited him to try his wit against the king's. When Lewis XIV. was asked, why, with so much wit, he never attempted raillery, he answered, that he who practised raillery ought to bear it in his turn, and that to stand the butt of raillery was not suitable to the dignity of a king. Scudery's Conversation. Johnson. Comparative, I believe, is equal, or rival in any thing. So, in the second of the Four Plays in One, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; Gerrard ever was “His full comparative.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 644 8Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:] To enfeoff is a law term, signifying to invest with possessions. So, in the old comedy of Wily Beguiled: “I protested to enfeoffe her in forty pounds a year.” Steevens.

Note return to page 645 9He hath more worthy interest to the state, Than thou, the shadow of succession:] This is obscure. I believe the meaning is—Hotspur hath a right to the kingdom more worthy than thou, who hast only the shadowy right of lineal succession, while he has real and solid power. Johnson.

Note return to page 646 1Capitulate &lblank;] i. e. make head. So, to articulate, in a subsequent scene, is to form articles. Steevens.

Note return to page 647 2&lblank; dearest &lblank;] Dearest is most fatal, most mischievous. Johnson.

Note return to page 648 3And stain my favours in a bloody mask,] We should read—favour, i. e. countenance. Warburton. Favours are features. Johnson. I am not certain that favours, in this place, means features, or that the plural number of favour in that sense is ever used. I believe favours mean only some decoration usually worn by knights in their helmets, as a present from a mistress, or a trophy from an enemy. So, in this play: “Then let my favours hide thy bloody face:” where the prince must have meant his scarf. Again, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1626: “Aruns, these crimson favours, for thy sake, “I'll wear upon my forehead mask'd with blood.” Steevens.

Note return to page 649 4Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word,] There was no such person as lord Mortimer of Scotland; but there was a lord March of Scotland, (George Dunbar) who having quitted his own country in disgust, attached himself so warmly to the English, and did them such signal services in their wars with Scotland, that the Parliament petitioned the king to bestow some reward on him. He sought on the side of Henry in this rebellion, and was the means of saving his life at the battle of Shrewsbury, as is related by Holinshed. This, no doubt, was the lord whom Shakespeare designed to represent in the act of sending friendly intelligence to the king.—Our author had a recollection that there was in these wars a Scottish lord on the king's side, who bore the same title with the English family, on the rebel side, (one being earl of March in England, the other earl of March in Scotland) but his memory deceived him as to the particular name which was common to both. He took it to be Mortimer instead of March. Steevens.

Note return to page 650 5&lblank; a brewer's horse; &lblank;] I suppose a brewer's horse was apt to be lean with hard work. Johnson. A brewer's horse does not, perhaps, mean a dray-horse, but the cross-beam on which beer-barrels are carried into cellars, &c. The allusion may be to the taper form of this machine. A brewer's horse is, however, mentioned in Aristippus, or The Jovial Philosopher, 1630: “&lblank; to think Helicon a barrel of beer, is as great a sin as to call Pegasus a brewer's horse.” Steevens. The commentators seem not to be aware, that, in assertions of this sort, Falstaff does not mean to point out any similitude to his own condition, but on the contrary some striking dissimilitude. He says here, I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse; just as in act II. sc. iv. he asserts the truth of several parts of his narrative, on pain of being considered as a rogue—a Jew—an Ebrew Jew—a bunch of raddish—a horse. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 651 6&lblank; the knight of the burning lamp.] This is a natural picture. Every man who feels in himself the pain of deformity, however, like this merry knight, he may affect to make sport with it among those whom it is his interest to please, is ready to revenge any hint of contempt upon one whom he can use with freedom. Johnson. The knight of the burning lamp, and the knight of the burning pestle, are both names invented with a design to ridicule the titles of heroes in ancient romances. Steevens.

Note return to page 652 7&lblank; by this fire: &lblank;] Here the quartos 1599, and 1608, very profanely add:—that's God's angel. Steevens.

Note return to page 653 8&lblank; Thou hast saved me a thousand marks &c.] This passage stands in need of no explanation; but I cannot help seizing the opportunity to mention that in Shakespeare's time, (long before the streets were illuminated with lamps) candles and lanthorns to let, were cried about London. So, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; dost roar? thou hast a good rouncival voice to cry lantern and candle light.” Again, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, among the Cries of London: “Lanthorn and candlelight here, “Maid ha' light here. “Thus go the cries, &c.” Again, in K. Edward IV. 1626: “No more calling of lanthorn and candlelight.” Again, in Pierce Pennyless's Supplication to the Devil, 1595: “It is said that you went up and down London, crying like a lantern and candle man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 654 9&lblank; good cheap &lblank;] Cheap is market, and good cheap therefore is a bon marchè. Johnson. So, in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, 1599: “If this weather hold, we shall have hay good cheap.” Again,in the anonymous play of K. Henry V: “Perhaps thou may'st agree better cheap now.” Again, in The Play called the Foure Ps, 1569: “If there were a thousand soules on a heap, “I would bring them all to heaven as good cheap.” This expression is also used by sir Thomas North in his translation of Plutarch. Speaking of the scarcity of corn in the time of Coriolanus, he says: “that they persuaded themselves that the corn they had bought, should be sold good cheap.” And again, in these two proverbs: “They buy good cheap that bring nothing home.” “He'll ne'er have thing good cheap that's afraid to ask the price.” Cheap (as Dr. Johnson has observed) is undoubtedly an old word for market. So, in the ancient metrical romance of Syr Bevys of Hampton, bl. 1. no date: “Tyll he came to the chepe “There he founde many men of a hepe.” From this word East-cheap, Chep-stow, Cheap-side, &c. are derived; indeed a passage that follows in Syr Bevys may seem to fix the derivation of the latter: “So many men was dead, “The Chepe syde was of blode red.” Steevens.

Note return to page 655 1&lblank; dame Partlet &lblank;] Dame Partlet is the name of the hen in the old story-book of Reynard the Fox: and in Chaucer's tale of the Cock and the Fox, the favourite hen is called dame Pertelote. Steevens.

Note return to page 656 2&lblank; What call you rich? &lblank;] A face set with carbuncles is called a rich face. Legend of Capt. Jones. Johnson.

Note return to page 657 3&lblank; a younker of me? &lblank;] A Younker is a novice, a young inexperienced man easily gull'd. So, in Gascoigne's Glass for Government, 1575: “These yonkers shall pay for the rost.” See Spenser's Eclogue on May, and sir Tho. Smith's Commonwealth of England, b. i. ch. 23. This contemptuous distinction is likewise very common in the old plays. Thus, in B. and Fletcher's Elder Brother: “I fear he'll make an ass of me, a younker.” Steevens.

Note return to page 658 4&lblank; shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket pick'd? &lblank;] There is a peculiar force in these words. To take mine ease in mine inne, was an ancient proverb, not very different in its application from that maxim: “Every man's house is his castle;” for inne originally signified a house or habitation. [Sax. inne, domus domicilium.] When the word inne began to change its meaning, and to be used to signify a house of entertainment, the proverb, still continuing in force, was applied in the latter sense, as it is here used by Shakespeare; or perhaps Falstaff here humourously puns upon the word inne, in order to represent the wrong done him more strongly. In John Heywood's Works, imprinted at London 1598, quarto bl. l. is “a dialogue wherein are pleasantly contrived the number of all the effectual proverbs in our English tongue, &c. together with three hundred epigrams on three hundred proverbs.” In ch. 6. is the following: “Resty welth willeth me the widow to winne, “To let the world wag, and take mine ease in mine inne.” And among the epigrams is: [26. Of Ease in an Inne.] “Thou takest thine ease in thine inne so nye thee, “That no man in his inne can take ease by thee.” Otherwise: “Thou takest thine ease in thine inne, but I see, “Thine inne taketh neither ease nor profit by thee.” Now in the first of these distichs the word inne is used in its ancient meaning, being spoken by a person who is about to marry a widow for the sake of a home, &c. In the two last places, inne seems to be used in the sense it bears at present. Percy. Gabriel Hervey, in a MS. note to Speght's Chaucer, says: “Some of Heywood's epigrams are supposed to be the conceits and devices of pleasant sir Thomas More.” Inne, for a habitation, or recess, is frequently used by Spenser and other ancient writers. So, in A World toss'd at Tennis, 1620: “These great rich men must take their ease in their Inn.” Again, in Greene's Farewell to Follie, 1617: “The beggar Irus that haunted the palace of Penelope, would take his ease in his inne as well as the peeres of Ithaca.” Steevens.

Note return to page 659 5&lblank; Newgate-fashion.] As prisoners are conveyed to Newgate, fastened two and two together. Johnson.

Note return to page 660 6There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd prune; &c.] The propriety of these similies I am not sure that I fully understand. A stew'd prune has the appearance of a prune, but has no taste. A drawn fox, that is, an exenterated fox, has the form of a fox without his powers. I think Dr. Warburton's explication wrong, which makes a drawn fox to mean, a fox often hunted; though to draw is a hunter's term for pursuit by the track. My interpretation makes the fox suit better to the prune. These are very slender disquisitions, but such is the task of a commentator. Johnson. Dr. Lodge, in his pamphlet called Wit's Miserie, or the World's Madnesse, 1596, describes a bawd thus: “This is shee that laies wait at all the carriers for wenches new come up to London; and you shall know her dwelling by a dish of stew'd prunes in the window; and two or three fleering wenches sit knitting or sowing in her shop.” In Measure for Measure, act II. the male bawd excuses himself for having admitted Elbow's wise into his house, by saying: “that she came in great with child, and longing for stew'd prunes, which stood in a dish, &c.” Slender, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, who apparently wishes to recommend himself to his mistress by a seeming propensity to love as well as war, talks of having measured weapons with a fencing-master for a dish of stew'd prunes. In another old dramatic piece, entitled, If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it, 1612, a bravo enters with money, and says: “This is the pension of the stewes, you need not untie it; 'tis stew-money, sir, stew'd-prune cash, sir.” Among the other sins laid to the charge of the once celebrated Gabriel Harvey, by his antagonist Nash, “to be drunk with the sirrop or liquor of stew'd prunes,” is not the least insisted on. In The Knave of Harts, a collection of satyrical poems, 1612, a wanton knave is mentioned, as taking “Burnt wine, stew'd prunes, a punk to solace him.” In The Knave of Spades, another collection of the same kind, 1611, is the following description of a wench inveigling a young man into her house: “&lblank; He to his liquor falls, “While she unto her maids for cakes,   “Stew'd prunes, and pippins, calls.” So, in Every Woman in her Humour, a comedy, 1619: “&lblank; To search my house! I have no varlets, no stew'd prunes, no she fiery, &c.” Again, in The Bride, a comedy by Nabbes, 1640: “&lblank; wenches at Tottenham-Court for stewed prunes and cheesecakes.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, P. II. 1630: “Peace, two dishes of stew'd prunes, a bawd and a pander!” Again, in Northward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607, a bawd says: “I will have but six stewed prunes in a dish, and some of mother Wall's cakes; for my best customers are taylors.” Again, in The Noble Stranger, 1640: “&lblank; to be drunk with cream and stewed prunes! —Pox on't, bawdy-house fare.” Again, in the London Chaunticleres, 1659: “My sugar-plum and stew'd prune lady.” Again, in The World runs on Wheeles, by Taylor the water poet: “&lblank; with as much facility as a bawd will eat a pippin tart, or swallow a stew'd pruine.” The passages already quoted are sufficient to shew that a dish of stew'd prunes was not only the ancient designation of a brothel, but the constant appendage to it. From A Treatise on the Lues Venerea, written by W. Clowes, one of her majesty's surgeons, 1596, and other books of the same kind, it appears that prunes were directed to be boiled in broth for those persons already infected; and that both stew'd prunes and roasted apples were commonly, though unsuccessfully, taken by way of prevention. So much for the infidelity of stew'd prunes. Steevens. Mr. Steevens has so fully discussed the subject of stewed prunes, that one can add nothing but the price. In a piece called Banks's Bay Horse in a Trance, 1595, we have “A stock of wenches, set up with their stewed prunes, nine for a tester.” Farmer.

Note return to page 661 7&lblank; a drawn fox; &lblank;] A drawn fox is a fox drawn over the ground to exercise the hounds. So, in B. and Fletcher's Tamer Tam'd: “&lblank; that drawn fox Moroso.” I am not, however, confident that this explanation is right. It was formerly supposed that a fox, when drawn out of his hole, had the sagacity to counterfeit death, that he might thereby obtain an opportunity to escape. For this information I am indebted to Mr. Tollet, who quotes Olaus Magnus, lib. xviii. cap. 39: “Insuper fingit se mortuam &c.” This particular and many others relative to the subtilty of the fox, have been translated by several ancient English writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 662 8&lblank; maid Marian may be &c.] Maid Marian is a man dressed like a woman, who attends the dancers of the morris. Johnson. In the ancient Songs of Robin Hood frequent mention is made of maid Marian, who appears to have been his concubine. I could quote many passages in my old MS. to this purpose, but shall produce only one: “Good Robin Hood was living then,   “Which now is quite forgot, “And so was fayre maid Marian, &c.” Percy. It appears from the old play of the Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601, that maid Marian was originally a name assumed by Matilda the daughter of Robert lord Fitzwater, while Robin Hood remained in a state of outlawry: “Next 'tis agreed (if therto shee agree) “That faire Matilda henceforth change her name; “And while it is the chance of Robin Hoode “To live in Sherewodde a poore outlawes life, “She by maide Marian's name be only call'd. “Mat. I am contented; reade on, little John: “Henceforth let me be nam'd maide Marian.” This lady was afterwards poison'd by king John at Dunmow Priory, after he had made several fruitless attempts on her chastity. Drayton has written her Legend. Shakespeare speaks of maid Marian in her degraded state, when she was represented by a strumpet or a clown. See Figure 2 in the plate at the end of this play, with Mr. Tollet's observations on it. Steevens. Maid Marian seems to have been the lady of a Whitsun-ale, or morris-dance. The widow in sir William Davenant's Love and Homer, (p. 247.) says: “I have been Mistress Marian in a Maurice ere now.” Morris is, indeed, there spelt wrong, the dance was not so called from prince Maurice, but from the Spanish morisco, a dancer of the morris or moorish dance. Hawkins. There is an old piece entitled, Old Meg of Herefordshire for a Mayd Marian, and Hereford Town for a Morris-dance: or 12 Morris-dancers in Herefordshire of 1200 Years old. Lond. 1609, quarto. It is dedicated to one Hall a celebrated Tabourer in that country. Warton.

Note return to page 663 9&lblank; neither fish nor flesh; &lblank;] So, the proverb: “Neither fish nor flesh, nor good red herring.” Steevens.

Note return to page 664 1&lblank; impudent, imboss'd rascal, &lblank;] Imboss'd is swoln, puffy. Johnson.

Note return to page 665 2&lblank; if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, &c.] As the pocketing of injuries was a common phrase, I suppose, the Prince calls the contents of Falstaff's pocket—injuries. Steevens.

Note return to page 666 3&lblank; And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: &lblank;] Some part of this merry dialogue seems to have been lost. I suppose Falstaff in pressing the robbery upon his hostess, had declared his resolution not to pocket up wrongs or injuries, to which the Prince alludes. Johnson.

Note return to page 667 4&lblank; do it with unwash'd hands too.] i. e. Do immediately, or the first thing in the morning, even without staying to wash your hands. So, in The More the Merrier, a collection of epigrams, 1608: “&lblank; as a school-boy dares “Fall to, ere wash'd his hands or said his prayers.” Perhaps, however, Falstaff alludes to the ancient adage: “Illotis manibus tractare sacra.” I find the same expression in Acolastus a comedy, 1529: “Why be these holy thynges to be medled with with unwashed hands?” Steevens.

Note return to page 668 5&lblank; Poins, to horse, &lblank;] I cannot but think that Peto is again put for Poins. I suppose the copy had only a P&wblank;. We have Peto afterwards, not riding with the Prince, but lieutenant to Falstaff. Johnson. I have adopted Dr. Johnson's emendation. Steevens.

Note return to page 669 6&lblank; the Douglas &lblank;] This expression is frequent in Holinshed, and is always applied by way of pre-eminence to the head of the Douglas family. Steevens.

Note return to page 670 7But I will beard him.] To beard is to oppose face to face in a hostile or daring manner. So, in Drayton's Quest of Cynthia: “That it with woodbine durst compare   “And beard the Eglantine.” Again, in Macbeth: “&lblank; met them dareful, beard to beard.” This phrase, which soon lost its original signification, appears to have been adopted from romance. In ancient language, to head a man was to cut off his head, and to beard him signify'd to cut off his beard; a punishment which was frequently inflicted by giants on such unfortunate princes as fell into their hands. So, Drayton in his Polyolbion, song 4: “And for a trophy brought the giant's coat away, “Made of the beards of kings.” Steevens.

Note return to page 671 8Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I his mind.] The line should be read and divided thus: Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I. Hot. His mind! Hotspur had asked who leads his powers? The Messenger answers, His letters bear his mind. The other replies, His mind! As much as to say, I enquire not about his mind, I want to know where his powers are. This is natural, and perfectly in character. Warburton.

Note return to page 672 9On any soul remov'd, &lblank;] On any less near to himself; on any whose interest is remote. Johnson.

Note return to page 673 1&lblank; no quailing now;] To quail is to languish, to sink into dejection. So, in the Tragedy of Crœsus, 1604: “And quail their courage ere that they can speed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 674 2&lblank; therein should we read The very bottom, and the soul of hope;] To read the bottom and soul of hope, and the bound of fortune, though all the copies, and all the editors have received it, surely cannot be right. I can think on no other word than risque: &lblank; therein should we risque The very bottom &c. The list is the selvage; figuratively, the utmost line of circumference, the utmost extent. If we should with less change read read, it will only suit with list, not with soul, or bottom. Johnson. I believe the old reading is the true one. So, in K. Henry VI. P. II: “&lblank; we then should see the bottom “Of all our fortunes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 675 3A comfort of retirement &lblank;] A support to which we may have recourse. Johnson.

Note return to page 676 4The quality and hair of our attempt] The hair seems to be the complexion, the character. The metaphor appears harsh to us, but, perhaps, was familiar in our author's time. We still say, something is against the hair, as against the grain, that is, against the natural tendency. Johnson. In an old comedy call'd The Family of Love, I meet with an expression which very well supports Dr. Johnson's explanation. “&lblank; They say, I am of the right hair, and indeed they may stand to't.” Again, in The Coxcomb by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; since he will be “An ass against the hair.” Steevens. This word is used in the same sense in the old interlude of Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1598: “But I bridled a colt of a contrarie haire.” Malone.

Note return to page 677 5&lblank; we of the offering side] All the latter editions read offending, but all the older copies which I have seen, from the first quarto to the edition of Rowe, read we of the off'ring side. Of this reading the sense is obscure, and therefore the change has been made; but since neither offering nor offending are words likely to be mistaken, I cannot but suspect that offering is right, especially as it is read in the first copy of 1599, which is more correctly printed than any single edition, that I have yet seen, of a play written by Shakespeare. The offering side may signify that party, which, acting in opposition to the law, strengthens itself only by offers; encreases its numbers only by promises. The king can raise an army, and continue it by threats of punishment; but those, whom no man is under any obligation to obey, can gather forces only by offers of advantage: and it is truly remarked, that they, whose influence arises from offers, must keep danger out of sight. The offering side may mean simply the assailant, in opposition to the defendant; and it is likewise true of him that offers war, or makes an invasion, that his cause ought to be kept clear from all objections. Johnson.

Note return to page 678 6The nimble-footed mad-cap prince of Wales,] Shakespeare rarely bestows his epithets at random. Stowe says of the Prince: “He was passing swift in running, insomuch that he with two other of his lords, without hounds, bow, or other engine, would take a wild-buck, or doe, in a large park.” Steevens.

Note return to page 679 7All furnish'd, all in arms, All plum'd like estridges, that with the wind Baited like eagles, &lblank;] To bait with the wind appears to me an improper expression. To bait is, in the style of falconry, to beat the wing, from the French battre, that is, to flutter in preparation for flight. Besides, what is the meaning of estridges, that baited with the wind like eagles? for the relative that, in the usual construction, must relate to estridges. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: All plum'd like estridges, and with the wind Baiting like eagles. By which he has escaped part of the difficulty, but has yet left impropriety sufficient to make his reading questionable. I read: All furnish'd, all in arms, All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind Baited like eagles. This gives a strong image. They were not only plum'd like estridges, but their plumes fluttered like those of an estridge beating the wind with his wings. A more lively representation of young men ardent for enterprize, perhaps no writer has ever given. Johnson. The following passage from David and Bethsabe, 1599, will confirm the supposition that to bait is a phrase taken from falconry: “Where all delights sat bating, wing'd with thoughts, “Ready to nestle in her naked breast.” Again, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608: “&lblank; made her check at the prey, bate at the lure &c.” I believe estridges never mount at all, but only run before the wind, opening their wings to receive its assistance in urging them forward. They are generally hunted on horseback, and the art of the hunter is to turn them from the gale, by the help of which they are too fleet for the swiftest horse to keep up with them. Writers on falconry often mention the bathing of hawks and eagles, as highly necessary for their health and spirits. I should have suspected a line to have been omitted, had not all the copies concurred in the same reading. In the 22d song of Drayton's Polyolbion is the same thought: “Prince Edward all in gold, as he great Jove had been: “The Mountfords all in plumes, like estridges, were seen.” If any alteration were necessary, I would propose to read: &lblank; that with their wings Bated like eagles &lblank; But the present words may stand. All birds, after bathing, (which almost all birds are fond of) spread out their wings to catch the wind, and flutter violently with them in order to dry themselves. This in the falconer's language is called bating, and by Shakespeare, bating with the wind. It may be observed that birds never appear so lively and full of spirits, as immediately after bathing. Steevens. I have little doubt that instead of with, some verb ought to be substituted here. Perhaps it should be whisk. The word is used by a writer of Shakespeare's age. England's Helicon, sign. 2: “This said, he whisk'd his particoloured wings.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 680 8All plum'd like estridges, &c.] All dressed like the prince himself, the ostrich-feather being the cognizance of the prince of Wales. Gray.

Note return to page 681 9Glittering in golden coats like images;] This alludes to the manner of dressing up images in the Romish churches on holy-days; when they are bedecked in robes very richly laced and embroidered. So, Spenser, Faerie Queen, b. i. c. 3: “He was to weet a stout and sturdie thiefe “Wont to robbe churches of their ornaments &c. “The holy saints of their rich vestiments “He did disrobe &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 682 1I saw young Harry—with his beaver on,] We should read beaver up. It is an impropriety to say on: for the beaver is only the visiere of the helmet, which, let down, covers the face. When the soldier was not upon action he wore it up, so that his face might be seen, (hence Vernon says he saw young Harry &c.) But when upon action, it was let down to cover and secure the face. Hence in The Second Part of Henry IV. it is said: “Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down.” Warburton. There is no need of all this note; for beaver may be a helmet; or the prince, trying his armour, might wear his beaver down. Johnson.

Note return to page 683 2His cuisses on his thighs, &lblank;] Cuisses, French, armour for the thighs. Pope. The reason why his cuisses are so particularly mentioned, I conceive to be, that his horsemanship is here praised, and the cuisses are that part of armour which most hinders a horseman's activity. Johnson.

Note return to page 684 3And witch the world &lblank;] For bewitch, charm. Pope.

Note return to page 685 4Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse— Meet, and ne'er part, &lblank;] This reading I have restored from the first edition. The edition in 1623, reads: Harry to Harry shall, not horse to horse, Meet, and ne'er part. Which has been followed by all the critics except sir Thomas Hanmer, who, justly remarking the impertinence of the negative, reads: Harry to Harry shall, and horse to horse, Meet, and ne'er part. But the unexampled expression of meeting to for meeting with, or simply meeting, is yet left. The ancient reading is surely right. Johnson.

Note return to page 686 5 &lblank; lieutenant Peto &lblank;] This passage proves that Peto did not go with the prince. Johnson.

Note return to page 687 6&lblank; souc'd gurnet. &lblank;] This is a dish mentioned in that very laughable poem called The Counter-scuffle, 1658: “Stuck thick with cloves upon the back, “Well stuff'd with sage, and for the smack, “Daintily strew'd with pepper black, “Souc'd gurnet.” Souc'd gurnet is an appellation of contempt very frequently employed in the old comedies. So, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “Punk! you souc'd gurnet!” Again, in the Prologue to Wily Beguiled, 1623: “Out you souced gurnet, you wool-fist!” Among the Cotton MSS. is part of an old household book for the year 1594. See Vesp. F. xvi: “Supper. Paid for a gurnard, viii.d.” Steevens.

Note return to page 688 7&lblank; worse than a struck fowl, or a hurt wild-duck. &lblank;] The repetition of the same image disposed sir Thomas Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, to read, in opposition to all the copies, a struck deer, which is indeed a proper expression, but not likely to have been corrupted. Shakespeare, perhaps, wrote a struck sorel, which, being negligently read by a man not skilled in hunter's language, was easily changed to struck fowl. Sorel is used in Love's Labour's Lost for a young deer; and the terms of the chase were, in our author's time, familiar to the ears of every gentleman. Johnson. One of the quartos and the folio read struck fool. This may mean a fool who had been hurt by the recoil of an over-loaded gun which had inadvertently discharged. Fowl, however, seems to have been the word designed by the poet, who might have thought an opposition between fowl, i. e. domestic birds, and wild-fowl, sufficient on this occasion. He has almost the same expression in Much Ado about Nothing: “Alas poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges.” Steevens.

Note return to page 689 8&lblank; such toasts and butter, &lblank;] This term of contempt is used in Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit without Money: “They love young toasts and butter, Bow-bell suckers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 690 9&lblank; younger sons to younger brothers, &lblank;] Raleigh, in his Discourse on War, uses this very expression for men of desperate fortune and wild adventure. Which borrowed it from the other, I know not, but I think the play was printed before the discourse. Johnson. Perhaps O. Cromwel was indebted to this speech, for the sarcasm which he threw out on the soldiers commanded by Hambden: “Your troops are most of them old decayed serving men and tapsters &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 691 1&lblank; cankers of a calm world, &lblank;] So, in the Puritan: “&lblank; hatch'd and nourished in the idle calmness of peace.” Again, in Pierce Penniless his Supplication to the Devil, 1595: “&lblank; all the canker-wormes that breed on the rust of peace.” Steevens.

Note return to page 692 2&lblank; ten times more dishonourably ragged, than an old, fac'd ancient; &lblank;] Shakespeare uses this word so promiscuously, to signify an ensign or standard-bearer, and also the colours or standard borne, that I cannot be at a certainty for his allusion here. If the text be genuine, I think the meaning must be, as dishounorably ragged as one that has been an ensign all his days; that has let age creep upon him, and never had merit enough to gain preferment. Dr. Warburton, who understands it in the second construction, has suspected the text, and given the following ingenious emendation.—“How is an old-fac'd ancient or ensign, dishonourably ragged? on the contrary, nothing is esteemed more honourable than a ragged pair of colours. A very little alteration will restore it to its original sense, which contains a touch of the strongest and most fine-turn'd satire in the world. &lblank; ten times more dishonourably ragged than an old feast ancient; i. e. the colours used by the city-companies in their feasts and processions: for each company had one with its peculiar device, which was usually displayed and borne about on such occasions. Now nothing could be more witty or sarcastical than this comparison; for as Falstaff's raggamuffins were reduced to their tatter'd condition through their riotous excesses; so this old feast ancient became torn and shatter'd, not in any manly exercise of arms, but amidst the revels of drunken bacchanals.” Theobald. Dr. Warburton's emendation is very acute and judicious; but I know not whether the licentiousness of our author's diction may not allow us to suppose that he meant to represent his soldiers, as more ragged, though less honourably ragged, than an old ancient. Johnson. An old, fac'd ancient, is an old standard mended with a different colour. It should not be written in one word, as old and fac'd are distinct epithets. To face a gown is to trim it; an expression at present in use. In our author's time the facings of gowns were always of a colour different from the stuff itself. So, in this play: “To face the garment of rebellion “With some fine colour.” Again, in Ram-alley or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Your tawny coats with greasy facings here.” Steevens.

Note return to page 693 3&lblank; gyves on; &lblank;] i. e. shackles. Pope. So, in the old Morality of Hycke Scorner: “And I will go fetch a pair of gyves.” Again: “They be yeomen of the wrethe that be shackled in gyves.” Steevens.

Note return to page 694 4&lblank; good enough to toss; &lblank;] That is, to toss upon a pike. Johnson.

Note return to page 695 5&lblank; such great leading &lblank;] Such conduct, such experience in martial business. Johnson.

Note return to page 696 6To sue his livery, &lblank;] This is a law-phrase belonging to the feudal tenures; meaning to sue out the delivery or possession of his lands from the Court of Wards, which, on the death of any of the tenants of the crown, seized their lands, 'till the heir sued out his livery. Steevens.

Note return to page 697 7The more and less &lblank;] i. e. the greater and the less. Steevens.

Note return to page 698 8Upon the naked shore &c.] In this whole speech he alludes again to some passages in Richard the Second. Johnson.

Note return to page 699 9&lblank; task'd the whole state.] I suppose it should be tax'd the whole state. Johnson. Task'd is here used for taxed; it was once common to employ these words indiscriminately. Memoirs of P. de Commines, by Danert, folio, 4th edit. 1674, p. 136: “Duke Philip by the space of many years levied neither subsidies nor tasks.” Again, in Stephen Gosson's School of Abuse, 1579: “&lblank; like a greedy surveiour being sent into Fraunce to govern the countrie, robbed them and spoyled them of all their treasure with unreasonable taskes.” Again, in Gower de Confessione Amantis, l. vii. fol. 145: “Foryeve and graunt all that is asked, “Of that his fader had tasked.” Again, in Hannibal and Scipio, 1637: “&lblank; though some would task “His borrowing from another play, &c.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 422: “There was a new and strange subsidie or taske granted to be levied for the king's use.” Steevens.

Note return to page 700 1This head of safety; &lblank;] This army, from which I hope for protection. Johnson.

Note return to page 701 2&lblank; sealed brief,] A brief is simply a letter. Johnson.

Note return to page 702 3&lblank; in the first proportion)] Whose quota was larger than that of any other man in the confederacy. Johnson.

Note return to page 703 4&lblank; a rated sinew too,] So the first edition, i. e. accounted a strong aid. Pope. A rated sinew signifies a strength on which we reckoned; a help of which we made account. Johnson. The folio reads: Who with them was rated firmely too. Steevens.

Note return to page 704 5Act V.] It seems proper to be remarked, that in the editions printed while the author lived, this play is not broken into acts. The division which was made by the players in the first folio, seems commodious enough, but, being without authority, may be changed by any editor who thinks himself able to make a better.

Note return to page 705 *&lblank; busky hill! &lblank;] Busky is woody. (Bosquet Fr.) Milton writes the word perhaps more properly, bosky. Steevens. Johnson.

Note return to page 706 6&lblank; to his purposes;] That is, to the sun's, to that which the sun portends by his unusual appearance. Johnson.

Note return to page 707 7Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. Prince. Peace, chevet, peace.] This, I take to be an arbitrary refinement of Mr. Pope's; nor can I easily agree, that chevet is Shakespeare's word here. Why should prince Henry call Falstaff bolster, for interposing in the discourse betwixt the king and Worcester? With submission, he does not take him up here for his unreasonable size, but for his ill-tim'd and unseasonable chattering. I therefore have preserved the reading of the old books. A chewet, or chuet, is a noisy chattering bird, a pie. This carries a proper reproach to Falstaff for his meddling and impertinent jest. And besides, if the poet had intended that the prince should fleer at Falstaff on account of his corpulency, I doubt not but he would have called him bolster in plain English, and not have wrapp'd up the abuse in the French word chevet. In another passage of this play, the prince honestly calls him quilt. As to prince Henry, his stock in this language was so small, that when he comes to be king he hammers out one small sentence of it to princess Catharine, and tells her, It is as easy for him to conquer the kingdom as to speak so much more French. Theobald. Peace, chewet, peace.] In an old book of cookery, printed in 1596, I find a receipt to make chewets, which from their ingredients seem to have been fat greasy puddings; and to these it is highly probable that the prince alludes. Both the quartos and folio spell the word as it now stands in the text, and as I found it in the book already mentioned. So, in Bacon's Nat. Hist. “As for chuets, which are likewise minced meat, instead of butter and fat, it were good to moisten them partly with cream, or almond and pistachio milk, &c.” Cotgrave's Dictionary explains the French word goubelet, to be a kind of round pie resembling our chuet. Steevens.

Note return to page 708 8&lblank; my staff of office &lblank;] See Richard the Second. Johnson.

Note return to page 709 9&lblank; the injuries of a wanton time;] i. e. the injuries done by king Richard in the wantonness of prosperity. Musgrave.

Note return to page 710 1As that ungentle gull, the cuckow's bird,] The cuckow's chicken, who, being hatched and fed by the sparrow, in whose nest the cuckow's egg was laid, grows in time able to devour her nurse. Johnson.

Note return to page 711 2&lblank; we stand opposed &c.] We stand in opposition to you. Johnson.

Note return to page 712 3&lblank; articulated,] i. e. exhibited in articles. So, in Daniel's Civil Wars, &c. b. v: “How to articulate with yielding wights.” Again, in the Spanish Tragedy: “To end those things articulated here.” Again, in the Valiant Welchman, 1615: “Drums, beat aloud!—I'll not articulate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 713 4To face the garment of rebellion With some fine colour, &lblank;] This is an allusion to our ancient fantastic habits, which were usually faced or turned up with a colour different from that of which they were made. So, in the old Interlude of Nature, bl. l. no date: “His hosen shall be freshly garded “Wyth colours two or thre.” Steevens.

Note return to page 714 5&lblank; poor discontents,] Poor discontents are poor discontented people, as we now say—malecontents. So, in Marston's Malcontent, 1604: “What, play I well the free-breath'd discontent?” Malone.

Note return to page 715 6&lblank; set off his head, &lblank;] i. e. taken from his account. Musgrave.

Note return to page 716 7More active-valiant, or more valiant-young,] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads more valued young. I think the present gingle has more of Shakespeare. Johnson. The same kind of gingle is in Sidney's Arcadia: “&lblank; young-wise, wise-valiant.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 717 8&lblank; and bestride me, &lblank;] In the battlé of Agincourt, Henry, when king, did this act of friendship for his brother the duke of Gloucester. Steevens.

Note return to page 718 9Exit Prince Henry.] This exit is remarked by Mr. Upton. Johnson.

Note return to page 719 1&lblank; honour is a mere scutcheon, &lblank;] This is very fine. The reward of brave actions formerly was only some honourable bearing in the shields of arms bestowed upon deservers. But Falstaff having said that honour often came not 'till after death, he calls it very wittily a scutcheon, which is the painted heraldry borne in funeral processions: and by mere scutcheon is insinuated, that whether alive or dead, honour was but a name. Warburton.

Note return to page 720 2Suspicion, all our lives, shall be stuck full of eyes:] The same image of suspicion is exhibited in a Latin tragedy, called Roxana, written about the same time by Dr. William Alablaster. Johnson. All the old copies read—supposition. Steevens.

Note return to page 721 3&lblank; an adopted name of privilege, &lblank; A hare-brain'd Hotspur, &lblank;] The name of Hotspur will privilege him from censure. Johnson.

Note return to page 722 4And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, &lblank;] Engag'd is delivered as an hostage. A few lines before, upon the return of Worcester, he orders Westmoreland to be dismissed. Johnson.

Note return to page 723 5How shew'd his tasking? &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1598. The others, with the folio read—talking. Steevens.

Note return to page 724 6By still dispraising praise, valu'd with you.] This foolish line is indeed in the folio of 1623, but it is evidently the player's nonsense. Warburton. This line is not only in the first folio, but in all the editions before it that I have seen. Why it should be censured as nonsense I know not. To vilify praise, compared or valued with merit superior to praise, is no harsh expression. There is another objection to be made. Prince Henry, in his challenge of Percy, had indeed commended him, but with no such hyperboles as might represent him above praise; and there seems to be no reason why Vernon should magnify the prince's candor beyond the truth. Did then Shakespeare forget the foregoing scene? or are some lines lost from the prince's speech? Johnson.

Note return to page 725 7He made a blushing cital of himself:] Cital for taxation. Pope. Mr. Pope observes that by cital is meant taxation; but I rather think it means recital. The verb is used in that sense in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, act IV. sc. i: “&lblank; for we cite our faults, “That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives.” Again, in K. Hen. V. act V. sc. ii: “Whose want gives growth to the imperfections “Which you have cited, &c.” Again, in Titus Andronicus, act V: “&lblank; I do digress too much, “Citing my worthless praise.” Collins.

Note return to page 726 8&lblank; he master'd &lblank;] i. e. was master of. Steevens.

Note return to page 727 9Of any prince, so wild, at liberty: &lblank;] Of any prince that played such pranks, and was not confined as a madman. Johnson. The quartos 1598, 1599, and 1608, read—so wild a libertie. Perhaps the author wrote—so wild a libertine. Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Tye up the libertine in a field of feasts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 728 1If life &lblank;] Thus the old copies. Modern editors read: Though life. Steevens.

Note return to page 729 2Now—Esperance! &lblank;] This was the word of battle on Percy's side. See Hall's Chronicle, folio 22. Pope. Esperance, or Esperanza, has always been the motto of the Percy family. Esperance en Dieu is the present motto of the duke of Northumberland, and has been long used by his predecessors. Sometimes it was expressed Esperance ma Comforte, which is still legible at Alnwick castle over the great gate. Percy.

Note return to page 730 3For, heaven to earth, &lblank;] i. e. One might wager heaven to earth. Warburton.

Note return to page 731 4Semblably furnish'd &lblank;] i. e. in resemblance, alike. This word occurs in the Devil's Charter, 1607: “So semblably doth he with terror strike.” Again, in The Case is Alter'd, by Ben Jonson, 1609: “Semblably prisoner to your general.” Again, in the 22d song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “The next, sir Walter Blunt, he with three others slew, “All armed like the king, which he dead sure accounted; “But after when he saw the king himself remounted, “This hand of mine, quoth he, four kings this day have slain, “And swore out of the earth he thought they sprang again.” Steevens.

Note return to page 732 5A fool go with thy soul whither it goes!] The old copies read: Ah, fool, go with thy soul, &c. but this appears to be nonsense. I have ventured to omit a single letter, as well as to change the punctuation, on the authority of the following passage in the Merchant of Venice: “With one fool's head I came to woo, “But I go away with two.” Again, more appositely in Promos and Cassandra, 1578: “Go, and a knave with thee.” See a note on Timon, act V. sc. ii. Steevens.

Note return to page 733 6&lblank; shot-free at London, &lblank;] A play upon shot, as it means the part of a reckoning, and a missive weapon discharged from artillery. Johnson. So, in Aristippus or the Jovial Philosopher, 1630: “&lblank; the best shot to be discharged is the tavern bill; the best alarum is the sounding of healths.” Again, in The Play of the Foure Ps, 1569: “Then after your drinking, how fall ye to winking? “Sir, after drinking, while the shot is tinking.” Again, Heywood, in his Epigrams on Proverbs: “And it is yll commynge, I have heard say, “To the end of a shot, and beginnyng of a fray.” Steevens.

Note return to page 734 7&lblank; Here's no vanity! &lblank;] In our author's time the negative, in common speech, was used to design, ironically, the excess of a thing. Thus Ben Jonson, in Every Man in his Humour, says: “O here's no foppery! “'Death, I can endure the stocks better.” Meaning, as the passage shews, that the foppery was excessive. And so in many other places. But the Oxford editor not apprehending this, has alter'd it to—there's vanity! Warburton. I am in doubt whether this interpretation, though ingenious and well supported, is true. The words may mean, here is real honour, no vanity, or no empty appearance. Johnson. I believe Dr. Warburton is right: the same ironical kind of expression occurs in The Mad Lover of B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; Here's no villany! “I am glad I came to the hearing.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Tale of a Tub: “Here was no subtle device to get a wench!” Again, in Shakespeare's Taming the Shrew: “Here's no knavery!” Again, in the first part of Jeronimo &c. 1605: “Here's no fine villainy! no damned brother!” Steevens.

Note return to page 735 8&lblank; Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms, &lblank;] Meaning Gregory the Seventh, called Hildebrand. This furious frier surmounted almost invincible obstacles to deprive the emperor of his right of investiture of bishops, which his predecessors had long attempted in vain. Fox, in his history, hath made this Gregory so odious, that I don't doubt but the good Protestants of that time were well pleased to hear him thus characterized, as uniting the attributes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope in one. Warburton.

Note return to page 736 9&lblank; I have paid Percy, I have made him sure. P. Henry. He is, indeed; and &c.] The Prince's answer, which is apparently connected with Falstaff's last words, does not cohere so well as if the knight had said: I have made him sure; Percy's safe enough. Perhaps a word or two like these may be lost. Johnson. Sure has two significations; certainly disposed of, and safe. Falstaff uses it in the former sense, the Prince replies to it in the latter. Steevens.

Note return to page 737 1&lblank; sack a city.] A quibble on the word sack. Johnson. The same quibble may be found in Aristippus, or the Jovial Philosopher, 1630: “&lblank; it may justly seem to have taken the name of sack from the sacking of cities.” Steevens.

Note return to page 738 2&lblank; a bottle of sack.] The same comic circumstance occurs in the ancient Interlude of Nature, (written long before the time of Shakespeare) bl. l. no date: “Glotony. We shall have a warfare it ys told me. “Man. Ye; where is thy harnes? “Glotony. Mary, here may ye se, “Here ys harnes inow. “Wrath. Why hast thou none other harnes but thys? “Glotony. What the devyll harnes should I mys, “Without it be a bottell? “Another botell I wyll go purvey, “Lest that drynk be scarce in the way, “Or happely none to sell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 739 3If Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. &lblank;] Certainly, he'll pierce him, i. e. Prince Henry will, who is just gone out to seek him. Besides, I'll pierce him, contradicts the whole turn and humour of the speech. Warburton. I rather take the conceit to be this. To pierce a vessel is to tap it. Falstaff takes up his bottle which the prince had tossed at his head, and being about to animate himself with a draught, cries: if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him, and so draws the cork. I do not propose this with much confidence. Johnson. Ben Jonson has the same quibble in his New Inn, act III: “Sir Pierce anon will pierce us a new hogshead.” I believe Falstaff makes this boast that the Prince may hear it; and continues the rest of the speech in a lower accent, or when he is out of hearing. Shakespeare has the same play on words in Love's Labour's Lost, act IV. sc. ii. Steevens.

Note return to page 740 4&lblank; a carbonado of me. &lblank;] A carbonado is a piece of meat cut cross-wise for the gridiron. Johnson. So, in the Spanish Gypsie by Middleton and Rowley, 1653: “Carbonado thou the old rogue my father, &lblank; “While you slice into collops the rusty gammon his man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 741 5&lblank; thou bleed'st too much: &lblank;] History says, the Prince was wounded in the eye by an arrow. Steevens.

Note return to page 742 6&lblank; those proud titles thou hast won of me; They wound my thoughts, &lblank; But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time &lblank; must have a stop. &lblank;] Hotspur in his last moments endeavours to console himself. The glory of the prince wounds his thoughts; but thought, being dependent on life, must cease with it, and will soon be at an end. Life, on which thought depends, is itself of no great value, being the fool and sport of time; of time, which, with all its dominion over sublunary things, must itself at last be stopped. Johnson. Hotspur alludes to the Fool in our ancient Moralities. The same allusion occurs in Measure for Measure and Love's Labour's Lost. Steevens.

Note return to page 743 7Ill-weav'd ambition, &c.] A metaphor taken from cloth, which shrinks when it is ill-weav'd, when its texture is loose. Johnson.

Note return to page 744 8A kingdom &c.] “Carminibus confide bonis—jacet ecce Tibullus; “Vix manet e toto parva quod urna capit.” Ovid. Johnson.

Note return to page 745 9But let my favours hide thy mangled face;] We should read favour, face or countenance. He is stooping down here to kiss Hotspur. Warburton. He rather covers his face with a scarf, to hide the ghastliness of death. Johnson.

Note return to page 746 1&lblank; so fair a deer &lblank;] This is the reading of the first edition, and of the other quartos. The first folio has fat, which was followed by all the editors. There is in these lines a very natural mixture of the serious and ludicrous, produced by the view of Percy and Falstaff. I wish all play on words had been forborn. Johnson. I find the same quibble in the Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “Life is as dear in deer, as 'tis in men.” Again, in A Maidenhead well Lost, 1632, a comedy by Heywood: “There's no deer so dear to him, but he will kill it.” Steevens. So fat a deer, seems to be the better reading, for Turbervile, in the Terms of the Ages of all Beasts of Venerie and Chase, observes: “&lblank; You shall say by any deare, a great deare, and not a fayre deare, unless it be a rowe, which in the fifth year is called a fayre rowe-bucke.” Tollet.

Note return to page 747 2&lblank; many dearer, &lblank;] Many of greater value. Johnson.

Note return to page 748 3&lblank; to powder me, &lblank;] To powder is to salt. Johnson.

Note return to page 749 4&lblank; this gun-powder Percy, &lblank;] I have not any very early edition of this play: query; whether these words were not added after the powder-plot. Farmer. They are found in the quartos 1598, and 1599. Steevens.9Q0716

Note return to page 750 5&lblank; a double man; &lblank;] That is, I am not Falstaff and Percy together, though having Percy on my back, I seem double. Johnson.

Note return to page 751 6&lblank; I gave him this wound in the thigh: &lblank;] The very learned lord Lyttelton observes, that Shakespeare has applied an action to Falstaff, which William of Malmsbury, tells us was really done by one of the conqueror's knights to the body of king Harold. I do not however believe that lord Lyttelton supposed Shakespeare to have read this old Monk. The story is told likewise by Matthew Paris and Matthew of Westminster; and by many of the English Chroniclers, Stowe, Speed, &c. &c. Farmer.

Note return to page 752 7The noble Scot, &lblank;] The old copies bestow this epithet both on Percy and Douglas. Modern editors had changed it, in the first instance, to gallant. Steevens.

Note return to page 753 8Here Mr. Pope inserts the following speech from the quartos: “Lan. I thank your grace for this high courtesy, “Which I shall give away immediately.” But Dr. Johnson judiciously supposes it to have been rejected by Shakespeare himself. Steevens.

Note return to page 754 Mr. Tollet's Opinion concerning the Morris Dancers upon his Window. THE celebration of May-day, which is represented upon my window of painted glass, is a very ancient custom, that has been observed by noble and royal personages, as well as by the vulgar. It is mentioned in Chaucer's Court of Love, that early on May-day “furth goth al the court both most and lest, to fetche the flouris fresh, and braunch, and blome.” Historians record, that in the beginning of his reign, Henry the Eighth with his courtiers “rose on May-day very early to fetch May or green boughs; and they went with their bows and arrows shooting to the wood.” Stowe's Survey of London informs us, that “every parish there, or two or three parishes joining together, had their Mayings; and did fetch in May-poles, with diverse warlike shews, with good archers, Morrice Dancers, and other devices for pastime all the day long.”* [Subnote: *Henry VIII. act V. sc. iii. and Midsummer Night's Dream, act IV. sc. i.] ;Shakespeare says it was “impossible to make the people sleep on May-morning; and that they rose early to observe the rite of May.” The court of king James the First, and the populace, long preserved the observance of the day, as Spelman's Glossary remarks under the word, Maiuma. Better judges may decide, that the institution of this festivity originated from the Roman Floralia, or from the Celtic la Beltine, while I conceive it derived to us from our Gothic ancestors. Olaus Magnus de Gentibus Septentrionalibus, lib. xv. c. 8. says “that after their long winter from the beginning of October to the end of April, the northern nations have a custom to welcome the returning splendor of the sun with dancing, and mutually to feast each other, rejoicing that a better season for fishing and hunting was approached.” In honour of May-day the Goths and southern Swedes had a mock battle between summer and winter, which ceremony is retained in the Isle of Man, where the Danes and Norwegians had been for a long time masters. It appears from Holinshed's Chronicle, vol. III. p. 314, or in the year 1306, that, before that time, in country towns the young folks chose a summer king and queen for sport to dance about May-poles. There can be no doubt but their majesties had proper attendants, or such as would best divert the spectators; and we may presume, that some of the characters varied, as fashions and customs altered. About half a century afterwards, a great addition seems to have been made to the diversion by the introduction of the Morris or Moorish dance into it, which, as Mr. Peck in his Memoirs of Milton with great probability conjectures, was first brought into England in the time of Edward III. when John of Gaunt returned from Spain, where he had been to assist Peter king of Castile, against Henry the Bastard. “This dance,” says Mr. Peck, “was usually performed abroad by an equal number of young men, who danced in their shirts with ribbands and little bells about their legs. But here in England they have always an odd person besides, being a * [Subnote: *It is evident from several authors, that Maid Marian's part was frequently performed by a young woman, and often by one, as I think, of unsullied reputation. Our Marian's deportment is decent and graceful.] boy dressed in a girl's habit, whom they call Maid Marian, an old favourite character in the sport.” “Thus,” as he observes in the words of † [Subnote: †Twelfth Night, act III. sc. iv. All's Well that ends Well, act II. sc. ii.] Shakespeare, “they made more matter for a May-morning: having as a pancake for Shrove-tuesday, a Morris for May-day.” We are authorized by the poets, Ben Jonson and Drayton, to call some of the representations on my window Morris Dancers, though I am uncertain whether it exhibits one Moorish personage; as none of them have black or tawny faces, nor do they brandish ‡ [Subnote: ‡In the Morisco the dancers held swords in their hands with the points upward, says Dr. Johnson's note in Antony and Cleopatra, act III sc. ix. The Goths did the same in their military dance, says Olaus Magnus, lib. xv. c. 23. Haydocke's translation of Lomazzo on Painting, 1598, book ii. p. 54, says: “There are other actions of dancing used, as of those who are represented with weapons in their hands going round in a ring, capering skilfully, shaking their weapons after the manner of the Morris with divers actions of meeting &c.” “Others hanging Morris bells upon their ankles.”] swords or staves in their hands, nor are they in their shirts adorned with ribbons. We find in Olaus Magnus, that the northern nations danced with brass bells about their knees, and such we have upon several of these figures, who may perhaps be the original English performers in a May-game before the introduction of the real Morris dance. However this may be, the window exhibits a favourite diversion of our ancestors in all its principal parts. I shall endeavour to explain some of the characters, and in compliment to the lady I will begin the description with the front rank, in which she is stationed. I am fortunate enough to have Mr. Steevens think with me, that figure I may be designed for the Bavian fool, or the fool with the slabbering bib, as Bavon in Cotgrave's French Dictionary means a bib for a slabbering child; and this figure has such a bib, and a childish simplicity in his countenance. Mr. Steevens refers to a passage in Beaumont and Fletcher's play of The Two Noble Kinsmen, by which it appears that the Bavian in the Morris dance was a tumbler, and mimicked the barking of a dog. I apprehend that several of the Morris dancers on my window tumbled occasionally, and exerted the chief seat of their activity, when they were aside the May-pole; and I apprehend that jigs, horn-pipes, and the hay, were their chief dances. It will certainly be tedious to describe the colours of the dresses, but the task is attempted upon an intimation, that it might not be altogether unacceptable. The Bavian's cap is red, faced with yellow, his bib yellow, his doublet blue, his hose red, and his shoes black. Figure 2 is the celebrated Maid Marian, who, as queen of May, has a golden crown on her head, and in her left hand a flower, as the emblem of summer. The flower seems designed for a red pink, but the pointals are omitted by the engraver, who copied from a drawing with the like mistake. Olaus Magnus mentions the artificial raising of flowers for the celebration of May-day; and the supposition of the like * [Subnote: *Markham's translation of Heresbatch's Husbandry, 1631, observes, “that gilliflowers, set in pots and carried into vaults or cellars, have flowered all the winter long, through the warmness of the place.] practice here will account for the queen of May having in her hand any particular flower before the season of its natural production in this climate. Her vesture was once fashionable in the highest degree. It was anciently the custom for maiden ladies to wear their hair † [Subnote: †Leland's Collectanea, 1770, vol. IV. p. 219, 293. vol. V. p. 332, and Holinshed, vol. III. p. 801, 931; and see Capilli in Spelman's Glossary.] dishevelled at their coronations, their nuptials, and perhaps on all splendid solemnities. Margaret, the eldest daughter of Henry VII. was married to James, king of Scotland, with the crown upon her head: her hair hanging down. Betwixt the crown and the hair was a very rich coif hanging down behind the whole length of the body.—This single example sufficiently explains the dress of Marian's head. Her coif is purple, her surcoat blue, her cuffs white, the skirts of her robe yellow, the sleeves of a carnation colour, and her stomacher red with a yellow lace in cross bars. In Shakespeare's play of Henry VIII. Anne Bullen at her coronation is in her hair, or as Holinshed says, “her hair hanged down,” but on her head she had a coif with a circlet about it full of rich stones. Figure 3 is a friar in the full clerical tonsure, with the chaplet of white and red beads in his right hand; and, expressive of his professed humility, his eyes are cast upon the ground. His corded girdle and his russet habit denote him to be of the Franciscan order, or one of the grey friars, as they were commonly called from the colour of their apparel, which was a russet or a brown russet, as Holinshed, 1586, vol. III. p. 789, observes. The mixture of colours in his habit may be resembled to a grey cloud, faintly tinged with red by the beams of the rising sun, and streaked with black; and such perhaps was Shakespeare's Aurora, or “the morn in russet mantle clad.” Hamlet, act I. sc. i. The friar's stockings are red, his red girdle is ornamented with a golden twist, and with a golden tassel. At his girdle hangs a wallet for the reception of provision, the only revenue of the mendicant orders of religious, who were named Walleteers or budget-bearers. It was * [Subnote: *See Maii inductio in Cowel's Law-Dictionary. When the parish priests were inhibited by the diocesan to assist in the May games, the Franciscans might give attendance, as being exempted from episcopal jurisdiction.] customary in former times for the priest and people in procession to go to some adjoining wood on May-day morning, and return in a sort of triumph with a May-pole, boughs, flowers, garlands, and such like tokens of the spring; and as the grey friars were held in very great esteem, perhaps on this occasion their attendance was frequently requested. Most of Shakespeare's friars are Franciscans. Mr. Steevens ingeniously suggests, that as Marian was the name of Robin Hood's beloved mistréss, and as she was the queen of May, the Morris friar was designed for friar Tuck, chaplain to Robin Huid, king of May, as Robin Hood is styled in sir David Dalrymple's extracts from the book of the Universal Kirk in the year 1576. Figure 4 has been taken to be Marian's gentleman-usher. Mr. Steevens considers him as Marian's paramour, who in delicacy appears uncovered before her; and as it was a custom for betrothed persons to wear some mark for a token of their mutual engagement, he thinks that the cross-shaped flower on the head of this figure, and the flower in Marian's hand, denote their espousals or contract. Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar, April, specifies the flowers worn of paramours to be the pink, the purple columbine, gilliflowers, carnations, and sops in wine. I suppose the flower in Marian's hand to be a pink, and this to be a stock-gilliflower, or the Hesperis, dame's violet or queen's gilliflower; but perhaps it may be designed for an ornamental ribbon. An eminent botanist apprehends the flower upon the man's head to be an Epimedium. Many particulars of this figure resemble Absolon, the parish clerk in Chaucer's Miller's Tale, such as his curled and golden hair, his kirtle of watchet, his red hose, and Paul's windows corvin on his shoes, that is, his shoes pinked and cut into holes like the windows of St. Paul's ancient church. My window plainly exhibits upon his right thigh a yellow scrip or pouch, in which he might as treasurer to the company put the collected pence, which he might receive, though the cordelier must by the rules of his order carry no money about him. If this figure should not be allowed to be a parish clerk, I incline to call him Hocus Pocus, or some juggler attendant upon the master of the hobby-horse, as “faire de tours de (jouer de la) gibeciere,” in Boyer's French Dictionary, signifies to play tricks by virtue of Hocus Pocus. His red stomacher has a yellow lace, and his shoes are yellow. Ben Jonson mentions “Hokos Pokos in a juggler's jerkin,” which Skinner derives from kirtlekin; that is, a short kirtle, and such seems to be the coat of this figure. Figure 5 is the famous hobby-horse, who was often forgotten or disused in the Morris dance, even after Maid Marian, the friar, and the fool, were continued in it, as is intimated in Ben * [Subnote: *Vol. VI. p. 93. of Whalley's edition, 1756: “Clo. They should be Morris dancers by their gingle, but they have no napkins. “Coc. No, nor a hobby-horse. “Clo. Oh, he's often forgotten, that's no rule; but there is no Maid Marian nor friar amongst them, which is the surer mark.” Vol. V. p. 211: “But see, the hobby-horse is forgot. “Fool, it must be your lot, “To supply his want with faces, “And some other buffoon graces.”] Jonson's masque of the Metamorphosed Gipsies, and in his Entertainment of the Queen and Prince at Althorpe. Our hobby is a spirited horse of pasteboard in which the master † [Subnote: †Dr. Plot's History of Staffordshire, p. 434, mentions a dance by a hobby-horse and six others.] dances, and displays tricks of legerdemain, such as the threading of the needle, the mimicking of the whigh-hie, and the daggers in the nose, &c. as Ben Jonson, edit. 1756, vol. I. p. 171, acquaints us, and thereby explains the swords in the man's cheeks. What is stuck in the horse's mouth I apprehend to be a ladle ornamented with a ribbon. Its use was to receive the spectators' pecuniary donations. The crimson foot-cloth, fretted with gold, the golden bit, the purple bridle with a golden tassel, and studded with gold; the man's purple mantle with a golden border, which is latticed with purple, his golden crown, purple cap with a red feather, and with a golden knop, induce me to think him to be the king of May; though he now appears as a juggler and a buffoon. We are to recollect the simplicity of ancient times, which knew not polite literature, and delighted in jesters, tumblers, jugglers, and pantomimes. The emperor Lewis the Debonair not only sent for such actors upon great festivals, but out of complaisance to the people was obliged to assist at their plays, though he was averse to publick shews. Queen Elizabeth was entertained at Kenelworth with Italian tumblers, Morris dancers, &c. The colour of the hobby-horse is a reddish white, like the beautiful blossom of a peach-tree. The man's coat or doublet is the only one upon the window that has buttons upon it, and the right side of it is yellow, and the left red. Such a particoloured * [Subnote: *Holinshed, 1586, vol. III. p. 326, 805, 812, 844, 963. Whalley's edition of Ben Jonson, vol. VI. p. 248. Stowe's Survey of London, 1720, book v. p. 164, 166. Urry's Chaucer, p. 198.] jacket, and hose in the like manner, were occasionally fashionable from Chaucer's days to Ben Jonson's, who in Epigram 73, speaks of a “partie-per-pale picture, one half drawn in solemn Cyprus, the other cobweb lawn.” Figure 6 seems to be a clown, peasant, or † [Subnote: †So, in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, the yeoman is thus described: “A nott hede had he, with a brown visage.” Again, in the Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “&lblank; your not-headed country gentleman.”] yeoman, by his brown visage, notted hair, and robust limbs. In Beaumont's and Fletcher's play of The Two Noble Kinsmen, a clown is placed next to the Bavian fool in the Morris dance; and this figure is next to him in the file or in the downward line. His bonnet is red, faced with yellow, his jacket red, his sleeves yellow, striped across or rayed with red, the upper part of his hose is like the sleeves, and the lower part is a coarse deep purple, his shoes red. Figure 7, by the superior neatness of his dress may be a franklin or a gentleman of fortune. His hair is curled, his bonnet purple, his doublet red with gathered sleeves, and his yellow stomacher is laced with red. His hose red, striped across or rayed with a whitish brown, and spotted brown. His codpiece is yellow and so are his shoes. Figure 8, the May-pole is painted yellow and black in spiral lines. Spelman's Glossary mentions the custom of erecting a tall May-pole painted with various colours. Shakespeare, in the play of A Midsummer Night's Dream, act III. sc. ii. speaks of a painted May-pole. Upon our pole are displayed St. George's red cross or the banner of England, and a white pennon or streamer emblazoned with a red cross terminating like the blade of a sword, but the delineation thereof is much faded. It is plain however from an inspection of the window, that the upright line of the cross, which is disunited in the engraving, should be continuous‡ [Subnote: ‡St. James was the apostle and patron of Spain, and the knights of his order were the most honourable there; and the ensign that they wore, was white, charged with a red cross in the form of a sword. The pennon or streamer upon the May-pole seems to contain such a cross. If this conjecture be admitted, we have the banner of England and the ensign of Spain upon the May-pole; and perhaps from this circumstance we may infer that the glass was painted during the marriage of king Henry VIII and Katharine of Spain. For an account of the ensign of the knights of St. James, see Ashmole's Hist. of the Order of the Garter, and Mariana's Hist. of Spain.]. Keysler, in p. 78 of his Northern and Celtic Antiquities, gives us perhaps the original of May-poles; and that the French used to erect them appears also from Mezeray's History of their King Henry IV, and from a passage in Stowe's Chronicle in the year 1560. Mr. Theobald and Dr. Warburton acquaint us that the May-games, and particularly some of the characters in them became exceptionable to the puritanical humour of former times. By an ordinance of the Rump Parliament in April 1644, all May-poles were taken down and removed by the constables and church-wardens, &c. After the Restoration they were permitted to be erected again. I apprehend they are now generally unregarded and unfrequented, but we still on May-day adorn our doors in the country with flowers and the boughs of birch, which tree was especially honoured on the same festival by our Gothic ancestors. To prove figure 9 to be Tom the piper, Mr. Steevens has very happily quoted these lines from Drayton's third Eclogue: “Myself above Tom Piper to advance, “Who so bestirs him in the Morris dance   “For penny wage.” His tabour, tabour stick, and pipe, attest his profession; the feather in his cap, his sword, and silver-tinctured shield, may denote him to be a squire minstrel, or a minstrel of the superior order. Chaucer, 1721, p. 181. says: “Minstrels used a red hat.” Tom Piper's bonnet is red, faced or turned up with yellow, his doublet blue, the sleeves blue, turned up with yellow, something like red muffetees at his wrists, over his doublet is a red garment, like a short cloak with arm holes, and with a yellow cape, his hose red, and garnished across and perpendicularly on the thighs, with a narrow yellow lace. This ornamental trimming seems to be called gimp-thigh'd in Grey's edition of Butler's Hudibras; and something almost similar occurs in Love's Labour's Lost, act IV. sc. ii. where the poet mentions, “Rhimes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose.” His shoes are brown. Figures 10 and 11 have been thought to be Flemings or Spaniards, and the latter a Morisco. The bonnet of figure 10 is red, turned up with blue, his jacket red with red sleeves down the arms, his stomacher white with a red lace, his hose yellow, striped across or rayed with blue, and spotted blue, the under part of his hose blue, his shoes are pinked, and they are of a light colour. I am at a loss to name the pennant-like slips waving from his shoulders, but I will venture to call them side-sleeves or long sleeves, slit into two or three parts. The poet Hocclive, or Occleve, about the reign of Richard the Second, or of Henry the Fourth, mentions side-sleeves of pennyless grooms, which swept the ground; and do not the two following quotations infer the use or fashion of two pairs of sleeves upon one gown or doublet? It is asked in the appendix to Bulwer's Artificial Changeling: “What use is there of any other than arming sleeves, which answer the proportion of the arm?” In Much ado about Nothing, act. III. sc. iv. a lady's gown is described with down-sleeves, and side-sleeves, that is, as I conceive it, with sleeves down the arms, and with another pair of sleeves, slit open before from the shoulder to the bottom or almost to the bottom, and by this means unsustained by the arms and hanging down by her sides to the ground or as low as her gown. If such sleeves were slit downwards into four parts, they would be quartered; and Holinshed says: “that at a royal mummery, Henry VIII. and fifteen others appeared in Almain jackets, with long quartered sleeves;” and I consider the bipartite or tripartite sleeves of figures 10 and 11 as only a small variation of that fashion. Mr. Steevens thinks the winged sleeves of figures 10 and 11 are alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher in the Pilgrim: &lblank; “That fairy rogue that haunted me “He has sleeves like dragon's wings.” And he thinks that from these perhaps the fluttering streamers of the present Morris dancers in Suffex may be derived. Markham's Art of Angling, 1635, orders the angler's apparel to be “without hanging sleeves, waving loose, like sails.” Figure 11 has upon his head a silver coronet, a purple cap with a red feather, and with a golden knop. In my opinion he personates a nobleman, for I incline to think that various ranks of life were meant to be represented upon my window. He has a post of honour, or, “a station in the valued * [Subnote: *The right hand file is the first in dignity and account, or in degree of value, according to count Mansfield's Directions of War, 1624.] file,” which here seems to be the middle row, and which according to my conjecture comprehends the queen, the king, the May-pole, and the nobleman. The golden crown upon the head of the master of the hobby-horse denotes preeminence of rank over figure 11, not only by the greater value of the † [Subnote: †The ancient kings of France wore gilded helmets; the dukes and counts wore silvered ones. See Selden's Titles of Honour for the raised points of Coronets.] metal, but by the superior number of points raised upon it. The shoes are blackish, the hose red, striped across or rayed with brown or with a darker red, his codpiece yellow, his doublet yellow, with yellow side-sleeves, and red arming sleeves, or down-sleeves. The form of his doublet is remarkable. There is great variety in the dresses and attitudes of the Morris dancers on the window, but an ocular observation will give a more accurate idea of this and of other particulars than a verbal description. Figure 12 is the counterfeit fool, that was kept in the royal palace, and in all great houses, to make sport for the family. He appears with all the badges of his office; the bauble in his hand, and a coxcomb hood with asses ears on his head. The top of the hood rises into the form of a cock's neck and head, with a bell at the latter; and Minshew's Dictionary, 1627, under the word cock's-comb, observes, that “natural idiots and fools have [accustomed] and still do accustome themselves to weare in their cappes cocke's feathers or a hat with a necke and head of a cocke on the top, and a bell thereon, &c.” His hood is blue, guarded or edged with yellow at its scalloped bottom, his doublet is red, striped across or rayed with a deeper red, and edged with yellow, his girdle yellow, his left side hose yellow with a red shoe, and his right side hose blue, soled with red leather. Stowe's Chronicle, 1614, p. 899, mentions a pair of cloath-stockings soled with white leather called “cashambles,” that is, “Chausses semelles de cuir,” as Mr. Anstis, on the Knighthood of the Bath, observes. The fool's bauble and the carved head with asses ears upon it are all yellow. There is in Olaus Magnus, 1555, p. 524, a delineation of a fool, or jester, with several bells upon his habit, with a bauble in his hand, and he has on his head a hood with asses ears, a feather, and the resemblance of the comb of a cock. Such jesters seem to have been formerly much caressed by the northern nations, especially in the court of Denmark; and perhaps our ancient joculator regis might mean such a person. A gentleman of the highest class in historical literature apprehends, that the representation upon my window is that of a Morris dance procession about a May-pole; and he inclines to think, yet with many doubts of its propriety in a modern painting, that the personages in it rank in the boustrophedon form. By this arrangement, says he, the piece seems to form a regular whole, and the train is begun and ended by a fool in the following manner: figure 12 is the well-known fool; figure 11 is a Morisco, and figure 10 a Spaniard, persons peculiarly pertinent to the Morris dance; and he remarks that the Spaniard obviously forms a sort of middle term betwixt the Moorish and the English characters, having the great fantastical sleeve of the one, and the laced stomacher of the other. Figure 9 is Tom the piper. Figure 8 the May-pole. Then follow the English characters, representing, as he apprehends, the five great ranks of civil life; figure 7 is the franklin or private gentleman. Figure 6 is a plain churl or villane. He takes figure 5, the man within the hobby-horse, to be perhaps a Moorish king, and from many circumstances of superior grandeur plainly pointed out as the greatest personage of the piece, the monarch of the May, and the intended consort of our English Maid Marian. Figure 4 is a nobleman. Figure 3 the friar, representative of all the clergy. Figure 2 is Maid Marian, queen of May. Figure 1, the lesser fool closes the rear. My description commences where this concludes, or I have reversed this gentleman's arrangement, by which in either way the train begins and ends with a fool; but I will not assert that such a disposition was designedly observed by the painter. With regard to the antiquity of the painted glass there is no memorial or traditional account transmitted to us; nor is there any date in the room but this, 1621, which is over a door, and which indicates in my opinion the year of building the house. The book of Sports or lawful Recreations upon Sunday after Evening-prayers, and upon Holy-days, published by king James in 1618, allowed May-games, Morris dances, and the setting up of May-poles; and as Ben Jonson's Masque of the Metamorphosed Gipsies intimates, that Maid Marian, and the friar, together with the often forgotten hobby-horse, were sometimes continued in the Morris dance as late as the year 1621, I once thought that the glass might be stained about that time; but my present objections to this are the following ones. It seems from the prologue to the play of Henry VIII. that Shakespeare's fools should be dressed “in a long motley coat, guarded with yellow;” but the fool upon my window is not so habited; and he has upon his head a hood, which I apprehend might be the coverture of the fool's head before the days of Shakespeare, when it was a cap with a comb like a cock's, as both Dr. Warburton and Dr. Johnson assert, and they seem justified in doing so from king Lear's fool giving Kent his cap, and calling it his coxcomb. I am uncertain, whether any judgment can be formed from the manner of spelling the inscrolled inscription upon the May-pole, upon which is displayed the old banner of England, and not the union flag of Great Britain, or St. George's red cross and St. Andrew's white cross joined together, which was ordered by king James in 1606, as Stowe's Chronicle certifies. Only one of the doublets has buttons, which I conceive were common in queen Elizabeth's reign; nor have any of the figures ruffs, which fashion commenced in the latter days of Henry VIII. and from their want of beards also I am inclined to suppose they were delineated before the year 1535, when king “Henry VIII. commanded all about his court to poll their heads, and caused his own to be polled, and his beard to be notted, and no more shaven.” Probably the glass was painted in his youthful days, when he delighted in May-games, unless it may be judged to be of much higher antiquity by almost two centuries. Such are my conjectures upon a subject of much obscurity; but it is high time to resign it to one more conversant with the history of our ancient dresses. Tollet.

Note return to page 755 1Second Part of Henry IV.] The transactions comprized in this history take up about nine years. The action commences with the account of Hotspur's being defeated and killed; and closes with the death of king Henry IV. and the coronation of king Henry V. Theobald. This play was enter'd at Stationers' Hall, August 23. 1600. Steevens. Mr. Upton thinks these two plays improperly called The First and Second Parts of Henry the Fourth. The first play ends, he says, with the peaceful settlement of Henry in the kingdom by the defeat of the rebels. This is hardly true; for the rebels are not yet finally suppressed. The second, he tells us, shews Henry the Fifth in the various lights of a good-natured rake, till, on his father's death, he assumes a more manly character. This is true; but this representation gives us no idea of a dramatic action. These two plays will appear to every reader, who shall peruse them without ambition of critical discoveries, to be so connected, that the second is merely a sequel to the first; to be two only because they are too long to be one. Johnson.

Note return to page 756 1Enter Rumour, &lblank;] This speech of Rumour is not inelegant or unpoetical, but is wholly useless, since we are told nothing which the first scene does not clearly and naturally discover. The only end of such prologues is to inform the audience of some facts previous to the action, of which they can have no knowledge from the persons of the drama. Johnson. Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues.] This the author probably drew from Holinshed's Description of a Pageant, exhibited in the court of Henry VIII. with uncommon cost and magnificence: “Then entered a person called Report, apparelled in crimson sattin, full of toongs, or chronicles.” Vol. III. p. 805. This however might be the common way of representing this personage in masques, which were frequent in his own times. Warton. Stephen Hawes, in his Pastime of Pleasure, had long ago exhibited her (Rumour) in the same manner: “A goodly lady, envyroned about “With tongues of fire.” &lblank; And so had sir Thomas Moore, in one of his Pageants: “Fame I am called, mervayle you nothing “Thoughe with tonges I am compassed all arounde.” Not to mention her elaborate portrait by Chaucer, in The Booke of Fame; and by John Higgins, one of the assistants in The Mirror for Magistrates, in his Legend of King Albanacte. Farmer. In a masque presented on St. Stephen's night, 1614, by Thomas Campion, Rumour comes on in a skin-coat full of winged tongues. Rumor is likewise a character in Sir Clyomon Knight of the Golden Shield &c. 1599. Steevens.

Note return to page 757 2&lblank; painted full of tongues.] This direction, which is only to be found in the first edition in quarto of 1600, explains a passsage in what follows, otherwise obscure. Pope.

Note return to page 758 3&lblank; Rumour is a pipe] Here the poet imagines himself describing Rumour, and forgets that Rumour is the speaker. Johnson.

Note return to page 759 4And this worm-eaten hole of ragged stone,] Northumberland had retired and fortified himself in his castle, a place of strength in those times, though the building might be impaired by its antiquity; and, therefore, I believe our poet wrote: And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone. Theobald. Theobald is certainly right. So, in The Wars of Cyrus &c. 1594: “Besieg'd his fortress with his men at arms, “Where only I and that Libanio stay'd “By whom I live. For when the hold was lost &c.” Again, in K. Henry VI. P. III: “She is hard by with twenty thousand men, “And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.” Steevens.

Note return to page 760 2&lblank; forspent with speed,] To forspend is to waste, to exhaust. So, in sir A. Gorges' translation of Lucan, b. vii: “&lblank; crabbed sires forspent with age.” Steevens.

Note return to page 761 3&lblank; armed heels] Thus the quarto 1600. The folio 1623, reads able heels; the modern editors, without authority, agile heels. Steevens.

Note return to page 762 4&lblank; poor jade] Poor jade is used not in contempt, but in compassion. Poor jade means the horse wearied with his journey. Jade, however, seems anciently to have signify'd what we now call a hackney; a beast employed in drudgery, opposed to a horse kept for show, or to be rid by its master. So, in a comedy called A Knack to know a Knave, 1594: “Besides, I'll give you the keeping of a dozen jades, “And now and then meat for you and your horse.” This is said by a farmer to a courtier. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 5&lblank; rowel-head; &lblank;] I think that I have observed in old prints the rowel of those times to have been only a single spike. Johnson.

Note return to page 764 6He seem'd in running to devour the way,] So, in The Book of Job, chap. xxxix: “He swalloweth the ground in fierceness and rage.” The same expression occurs in Ben Jonson's Sejanus: “But with that speed and heat of appetite “With which they greedily devour the way “To some great sports.” Steevens.9Q0718

Note return to page 765 7Of Hotspur, coldspur? &lblank;] Hotspur seems to have been a very common term for a man of vehemence and precipitation. Stanyhurst, who translated four books of Virgil, in 1584, renders the following line:   Nec victoris heri tetigit captiva cubile. “To couch not mounting of mayster vanquisher hoatspur.” Steevens.

Note return to page 766 8&lblank; silken point] A point is a string tagged, or lace. Johnson.

Note return to page 767 9&lblank; some hilding fellow, &lblank;] For hilderling, i. e. base, degenerate. Pope.

Note return to page 768 1&lblank; like to a title-leaf,—] It may not be amiss to observe, that in the time of our poet, the title-page to an elegy as well as every intermediate leaf, was totally black. I have several in my possession, written by Chapman the translator of Homer, and ornamented in this manner. Steevens.

Note return to page 769 2&lblank; so woe-begone,] This word was common enough amongst the old Scottish and English poets, as G. Douglas, Chaucer, lord Buckhurst, Fairfax; and signifies, far gone in woe. Warburton. So, in the Spanish Tragedy: “Awake, revenge, or we are wo-begone!” Again, in Jarvis Markham's English Arcadia, 1607: “If there were an end of woe, it were nothing to be woe-begone.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “So woe-begone, so inly charg'd with woe.” Again, in a Looking Glass for London and England, 1617: “Fair Alvida, look not so woe-begone.” Dr. Bentley is said to have thought this passage corrupt, and therefore (with a greater degree of gravity than my readers will probably express) proposed the following emendation: “So dead so dull in look, Ucalegon “Drew Priam's curtain &c.” The name of Ucalegon is found in the third book of the Iliad, and the second of the Æneid. Steevens.

Note return to page 770 3Your spirit &lblank;] The impression upon your mind, by which you conceive the death of your son. Johnson.

Note return to page 771 4Yet, for all this, say not &c.] The contradiction in the first part of this speech might be imputed to the distraction of Northumberland's mind; but the calmness of the reflection, contained in the last lines, seems not much to countenance such a supposition. I will venture to distribute this passage in a manner which will, I hope, seem more commodious; but do not wish the reader to forget, that the most commodious is not always the true reading: Bard. Yet for all this, say not that Percy's dea North. I see a strange confession in thine eye; Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin, To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so. The tongue offends not, that reports his death; And he doth sin, that doth belie the dead, Not he that saith the dead is not alive. Morton. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd knolling a departing friend. Here is a natural interposition of Bardolph at the beginning, who is not pleased to hear his news confuted, and a proper preparation of Morton for the tale which he is unwilling to tell. Johnson.

Note return to page 772 5&lblank; hold'st it fear, or sin,] Fear for danger. Warburton.

Note return to page 773 6If he be slain, say so:] The words say so are in the first folio, but not in the quarto: they are necessary to the verse, but the sense proceeds as well without them. Johnson.

Note return to page 774 7&lblank; faint quittance, &lblank;] Quittance is return. By faint quittance is meant a faint return of blows. So, in another play: “We shall forget the office of our hand “Sooner than quittance of desert and merit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 775 8For from his metal was his party steel'd; Which once in him abated, &lblank;] The word metal is one of those hacknied metaphorical terms, which resumes so much of a literal sense as not to need the idea (from whence the figure is taken) to be kept up. So that it may with elegance enough be said, his metal was abated, as well as his courage was abated. See what is said on this subject in Love's Labour's Lost, act V. But when the writer shews, as here, both before and after: “&lblank; his party steel'd &lblank; “Turn'd on themselves like dull and heavy lead,” that his intention was not to drop the idea from whence he took his metaphor, then he cannot say with propriety and elegance, his metal was abated; because what he predicates of metal, must be then conveyed in a term conformable to the metaphor. Hence I conclude that Shakespeare wrote: Which once in him rebated &lblank; i. e. blunted. Warburton. Here is a great effort to produce little effect. The commentator does not seem fully to understand the word abated, which is not here put for the general idea of diminished, nor for the notion of blunted, as applied to a single edge. Abated means reduced to a lower temper, or, as the workmen call it, let down. Johnson.

Note return to page 776 9'Gan vail his stomach, &lblank;] Began to fall his courage, to let his spirits sink under his fortune. Johnson. Thus, to vail the bonnet is to pull it off. So, in the Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “And make the king vail bonnet to us both.” To vail a staff is to let it fall in token of respect. Thus, in the same play: “And for the ancient custom of vail-staff, “Keep it still; claim privilege from me: “If any ask a reason, why? or how? “Say English Edward vail'd his staff to you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 777 1&lblank; buckle &lblank;] Bend; yield to pressure. Johnson.

Note return to page 778 2The rugged'st hour &c.] The old edition: The ragged'st hour that time and spight dare bring To frown &c. There is no consonance of metaphors betwixt ragged and frown; nor, indeed, any dignity in the image. On both accounts, therefore, I suspect our author wrote, as I have reformed the text: The rugged'st hour &c. Theobald.

Note return to page 779 3And darkness &c.] The conclusion of this noble speech is extremely striking. There is no need to suppose it exactly philosophical; darkness, in poetry, may be absence of eyes, as well as privation of light. Yet we may remark, that by an ancient opinion it has been held, that if the human race, for whom the world was made, were extirpated, the whole system of sublunary nature would cease. Johnson.

Note return to page 780 4This strained passion &c.] This line is only in the first edition, where it is spoken by Umfrevile, who speaks no where else. It seems necessary to the connection. Pope. Umfrevile is spoken of in this very scene as absent; the line was therefore properly allotted to Bardolph, or perhaps might yet more properly be given to Travers, who is present, and yet is made to say nothing on this very interesting occasion. Steevens.

Note return to page 781 5You cast the event of war, &c.] The fourteen lines from hence to Bardolph's next speech, are not to be found in the first editions till that in folio of 1623. A very great number of other lines in this play are inserted after the first edition in like manner, but of such spirit and mastery generally, that the insertions are plainly by Shakespeare himself. Pope. To this note I have nothing to add, but that the editor speaks of more editions than I believe him to have seen, there having been but one edition yet discovered by me that precedes the first folio. Johnson.

Note return to page 782 6&lblank; in the dole of blows &lblank;] The dole of blows is the distribution of blows. Dole originally signified the portion of alms (consisting either of meat or money) that was given away at the door of a nobleman. So, in the old metrical romance of Syr Isenbras, bl. l. no date: “Every day she made a dole “Of many florences gold and hole.” Again, in the Island Princess by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; dealing large doles of death.” Steevens.

Note return to page 783 7The gentle &c.] These one-and-twenty lines were added since the first edition. Johnson.

Note return to page 784 8Tells them, he doth bestride a bleeding land,] That is, stands over his country to defend her as she lies bleeding on the ground. So Falstaff before says to the prince, If thou see me down, Hal, and bestride me, so; it is an office of friendship. Johnson.

Note return to page 785 9And more, and less, &lblank;] More and less means greater and less. Steevens.

Note return to page 786 1&lblank; what says the doctor to my water?] The method of investigating diseases by the inspection of urine only, was once so much the fashion, that Linacre, the founder of the College of Physicians, formed a statute to restrain apothecaries from carrying the water of their patients to a doctor, and afterwards giving medicines in consequence of the opinions they received concerning it. This statute was, soon after, followed by another, which forbade the doctors themselves to pronounce on any disorder from such an uncertain diagnostic. John Day, the author of a comedy called Law Tricks, or Who would have thought it? 1608, describes an apothecary thus: “&lblank; his house is set round with patients twice or thrice a day, and because they'll be sure not to want drink, every one brings his own water in an urinal with him.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's Scornful Lady: “I'll make her cry so much, that the physician, “If she fall sick upon it, shall want urine “To find the cause by.” It will scarce be believed hereafter, that in the years 1775 and 1776, a German, who had been a servant in a public riding-school, (from which he was discharged for insufficiency) revived this exploded practice of water-casting. After he had amply encreased the bills of mortality, and been publicly hung up to the ridicule of those who had too much sense to consult him, as a monument of the folly of his patients, he retired with a princely fortune, and perhaps is now indulging a hearty laugh at the expence of English credulity. Steevens.

Note return to page 787 2&lblank; to gird at me: &lblank;] i. e. to gibe. So, in Mother Bombie, 1594, a comedy by Lilly: “We maids are mad wenches; we gird them and flout them &c.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song 6: “&lblank; this wondred error grow'th “At which our critics gird.” Steevens.

Note return to page 788 3&lblank; mandrake, &lblank;] Mandrake is a root supposed to have the shape of a man; it is now counterfeited with the root of briony. Johnson.

Note return to page 789 4I was never mann'd &lblank;] That is, I never before had an agate for my man. Johnson. I was never mann'd with an agate 'till now: &lblank;] Alluding to the little figures cut in agates, and other hard stones, for seals: and therefore he says, I will set you neither in gold nor silver. The Oxford editor alters this to aglet, a tag to the points then in use (a word indeed which our author uses to express the same thought): but aglets, though they were sometimes of gold or silver, were never set in those metals. Warburton. It appears from a passage in B. and Fletcher's Coxcomb, that it was usual for justices of peace either to wear an agate in a ring, or as an appendage to their gold chain: “&lblank; Thou wilt spit as formally, and shew thy agate and hatch'd chain, as well as the best of them.” The same allusion is employed on the same occasion in the Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Grace, you Agate! hast not forgot that yet?” The virtues of the agate were anciently supposed to protect the wearer from any misfortune. So, in Greene's Mamillia, 1593: “&lblank; the man that hath the stone agathes about him, is surely defenced against advesity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 790 5&lblank; the juvenal, &c.] This term, which has already occurred in The Midsummer Night's Dream, and Love's Labour's Lost, is used in many places by Chaucer, and always signifies a young man. So, in Westward Hoe, 1607: “What would'st? I am one of his juvenals.” Again, in The Art of Jugling or Legerdemain, 1612: “&lblank; but thou my pretty Juvenall, &c. must lick it up for a restorative &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 791 6&lblank; he may keep it still as a face-royal, &lblank;] That is, a face exempt from the touch of vulgar hands. So a stag-royal is not to be hunted, a mine-royal is not to be dug. Johnson. Perhaps this quibbling allusion is to the English real, rial, or royal. The poet seems to mean that a barber can no more earn six-pence by his face-royal, than by the face stamped on the coin called a royal; the one requiring as little shaving as the other. Steevens.

Note return to page 792 7&lblank; Dombledon &lblank;] Thus the folio. The quarto 1600 reads—Dommelton. This name seems to have been a made one, and designed to afford some apparent meaning. The author might have written—Double-done, from his making the same charge twice in his books, or charging twice as much for a commodity as it is worth. Steevens.9Q0723 [Notes from the 1780 Supplement]9Q0724

Note return to page 793 8&lblank; to bear in hand, &lblank;] Is, to keep in expectation. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; How you were borne in hand, how crost &lblank;” Steevens.

Note return to page 794 9&lblank; if a man is thorough with them in honest taking up, &lblank;] That is, if a man by taking up goods is in their debt. To be thorough seems to be the same with the present phrase to be in with a tradesman. Johnson. So, in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour: “I will take up, and bring myself into credit.” So again, in Northward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “They will take up, I warrant you, where they may be trusted.” Again, in the same piece: “Sattin gowns must be taken up.” Again, in Love Restored, one of Ben Jonson's masques: “A pretty fine speech was taken up o' th' poet too, which if he never be paid for now, 'tis no matter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 795 1&lblank; the lightness of his wife shines through it, and yet cannot be see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him.—] This joke seems evidently to have been taken from that of Plautus: “Quò ambulas tu, qui Vulcanum in cornu conclusum geris?” Amph. act I. scene i. and much improved. We need not doubt that a joke was here intended by Plautus; for the proverbial term of horns for cuckoldom, is very ancient, as appears by Artemidorus, who says: &grP;&grr;&gro;&gre;&gri;&grp;&gre;&gric;&grn; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwci; &grosa;&grt;&gri; &grhr; &grg;&gru;&grn;&grha; &grs;&gro;&gru; &grp;&gro;&grr;&grn;&gre;&grua;&grs;&gre;&gri;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grt;&grog; &grl;&gre;&grg;&gro;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gro;&grn;, &grk;&grea;&grr;&gra;&grt;&gra; &gras;&gru;&grt;&grwc; &grp;&gro;&gri;&grha;&grs;&gre;&gri;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grosa;&gru;&grt;&grw;&grst; &gras;&grp;&grea;&grb;&grh;. &GROsa;&grn;&gre;&gri;&grr;&gro;&gri;. lib. ii. cap. 12. And he copied from those before him. Warburton. The same thought occurs in the Two Maids of Moreclacke, 1609: “&lblank; your wrongs “Shine through the horn, as candles in the eve, “To light out others.” Steevens.

Note return to page 796 2I bought him in Paul's, &lblank;] At that time the resort of idle people, cheats, and knights of the post. Warburton. In an old Collection of Proverbs, I find the following: “Who goes to Westminster for a wife, to St. Paul's for a man, and to Smithfield for a horse, may meet with a whore, a knave, and a jade.” In a pamphlet by Dr. Lodge, called Wit's Miserie, and the World's Madnesse, 1596, the devil is described thus: “In Powls hee walketh like a gallant courtier, where if he meet some rich chuffes worth the gulling, at every word he speaketh, he makes a mouse an elephant, and telleth them of wonders, done in Spaine by his ancestors, &c. &c.” I should not have troubled the reader with this quotation, but that it in some measure familiarizes the character of Pistol, which (from other passages in the same pamphlet) appears to have been no uncommon one in the time of Shakespeare. Dr. Lodge concludes his description thus:—“His courage is boasting, his learning ignorance, his ability weakness, and his end beggary.” Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; get thee a gray cloak and a hat, “And walk in Paul's among thy cashier'd mates “As melancholy as the best.” I learn from a passage in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher and a She Coneycatcher, 1592, that St. Paul's was a privileged place, so that no debtor could be arrested within its precincts. Steevens.9Q0725

Note return to page 797 3&lblank; Chief Justice &lblank;] This judge was sir William Gascoigne Chief Justice of the King's Bench. He died December 17, 1413, and was buried in Harwood church in Yorkshire. His effigy, in judicial robes, is on his monument. Steevens.

Note return to page 798 4&lblank; hunt-counter, &lblank;] That is, blunderer. He does not, I think, allude to any relation between the judge's servant and the counter-prison. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation may be supported by the following passage in B. Jonson's Tale of a Tub: “&lblank; Do you mean to make a hare “Of me, to hunt counter thus, and make these doubles, “And you mean no such thing as you send about?” Again, in Hamlet: “O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs.” Steevens.

Note return to page 799 5Fal. Very well, my lord, very well: &lblank;] In the quarto edition, printed in 1600, this speech stands thus: Old. Very well, my lord, very well: &lblank; I had not observed this, when I wrote my note to The First Part of Henry IV. concerning the tradition of Falstaff's character having been first called Oldcastle. This almost amounts to a self-evident proof of the thing being so: and that the play being printed from the stage manuscript, Oldcastle had been all along altered into Falstaff, except in this single place by an oversight; of which the printers not being aware, continued these initial traces of the original name. Theobald. I am unconvinced by Mr. Theobald's remark. Old. might have been the beginning of some actor's name. Thus we have Kempe and Cowley instead of Dogberry and Verges in the 4to edit. of Much Ado, &c. 1600. Steevens.9Q07269Q0727

Note return to page 800 6&lblank; he my dog.] I do not understand this joke. Dogs lead the blind, but why does a dog lead the fat? Johnson. If the Fellow's great Belly prevented him from seeing his way, he would want a dog, as well as a blind man. Farmer.

Note return to page 801 7A wassel candle, &c.] A wassel candle is a large candle lighted up at a feast. There is a poor quibble upon the word wax, which signifies increase as well as the matter of the honey-comb. Johnson.

Note return to page 802 8You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel.] What a precious collator has Mr. Pope approved himself in this passage! Besides, if this were the true reading, Falstaff could not have made the witty and humourous evasion he has done in his reply. I have restored the reading of the oldest quarto. The Lord Chief Justice calls Falstaff the prince's ill angel or genius: which Falstaff turns off by saying, an ill angel (meaning the coin called an angel) is light; but, surely, it cannot be said that he wants weight: ergo—the inference is obvious. Now money may be called ill, or bad; but it is never called evil, with regard to its being under weight. This Mr. Pope will facetiously call restoring lost puns: but if the author wrote a pun, and it happens to be lost in an editor's indolence, I shall, in spite of his grimace, venture at bringing it back to light. Theobald. “As light as a clipt angel,” is a comparison frequently used in the old comedies. Again, in Merry Tricks or Ram alley, 1611: “&lblank; The law speaks profit does it not? &lblank; “Faith, some bad Angels haunt us now and then. Steevens.

Note return to page 803 9I cannot tell: &lblank;] I cannot be taken in a reckoning; I cannot pass current. Johnson.

Note return to page 804 1&lblank; in these coster-monger times, &lblank;] In these times when the prevalence of trade has produced that meanness that rates the merit of every thing by money. Johnson. A coster-monger is a costard-monger, a dealer in apples called by that name, because they are shaped like a costard, i. e. a man's head. Steevens.

Note return to page 805 2Pregnancy, &c.] Pregnancy is readiness. So in Hamlet, “How pregnant his replies are?” Steevens.

Note return to page 806 3&lblank; your wit single? &lblank;] We call a man single-witted, who attains but one species of knowledge. This sense I know not how to apply to Falstaff, and rather think that the Chief Justice hints at a calamity always incident to a grey-hair'd wit, whose misfortune is, that his merriment is unfashionable. His allusions are to forgotten facts; his illustrations are drawn from notions obscured by time; his wit is therefore single, such as none has any part in but himself. Johnson. I believe all that Shakespeare meant was, that he had more fat than wit; that though his body was bloated by intemperance to twice its original size, yet his wit was not increased in proportion to it. Steevens.

Note return to page 807 4&lblank; antiquity?] To use the word antiquity for old age is not peculiar to Shakespeare. So in Two Tragedies in one, &c. 1601: “For false illusion of the magistrates “With borrow'd shapes of false antiquity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 808 5&lblank; would I might never spit white again.] i. e. May I never have my stomach inflamed again with liquor; for, to spit white is the consequence of inward heat. So in Mother Bombie, a comedy, 1594. “They have sod their livers in sack these forty years; that makes them spit white broth as they do.” Again, in the Virgin Martyr by Massinger: “&lblank; I could not have spit white for want of drink.” Steevens.

Note return to page 809 6But it was always, &c.] This speech in the folio concludes at I cannot last ever. All the rest is restored from the quarto. A clear proof of the superior value of those editions, when compared with the publication of the players. Steevens.

Note return to page 810 7&lblank; you are too impatient to bear crosses.] I believe a quibble was here intended. Falstaff has just asked his lordship to lend him a thousand pound, and he tells him in return, that he is not to be entrusted with money. A cross is a coin so called, because stamped with a cross. So in Love's Labour's lost, act I. scene iii. “&lblank; crosses love him not.” Again, in As you like it, “If I should bear you, I should bear no cross.” And in Heywood's Epigrams upon Proverbs, 1562: “Of makyng a Crosse. “I will make a crosse upon his gate: ye, crosse on; “Thy crosses be on gates all, in thy purse none.” Steevens.

Note return to page 811 8&lblank; a three-man beetle.—] A beetle weilded by three men. Pope.

Note return to page 812 9&lblank; prevent my curses.] To prevent, means in this place to anticipate. So in the Psalms—“Mine eyes prevent the night watches.” Steevens.

Note return to page 813 1&lblank; to commodity.] i. e. Profit, self-interest. So in K. John: “Commodity, the bias of the world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 814 2&lblank; step too far] The four following lines were added in the second edition. Johnson.

Note return to page 815 3Much smaller] i. e. which turned out to be much smaller. Musgrave.

Note return to page 816 4Yes, if this present quality of war, Indeed the instant action:] These first twenty lines were first inserted in the folio of 1623. The first clause of this passage is evidently corrupted. All the folio editions and Mr. Rowe's concur in the same reading, which Mr. Pope altered thus: Yes, if this present quality of war Impede the instant act. This has been silently followed by Mr. Theobald, Sir Thomas Hanmer, and Dr. Warburton; but the corruption is certainly deeper; for in the present reading Bardolph makes the inconvenience of hope to be that it may cause delay, when indeed the whole tenor of his argument is to recommend delay to the rest that are too forward. I know not what to propose, and am afraid that something is omitted, and that the injury is irremediable. Yet, perhaps, the alteration requisite is no more than this: Yes, in this present quality of war, Indeed of instant action. It never, says Hastings, did harm to lay down likelihoods of hope. Yes, says Bardolph, it has done harm in this present quality of war, in a state of things such as is now before us, of war, indeed of instant action. This is obscure, but Mr. Pope's reading is still less reasonable. Johnson. I have adopted Dr. Johnson's emendation, though I think we might read: &lblank; if this present quality of war Impel the instant action. Hastings says, it never yet did hurt to lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. Yes, says Bardolph, it has in every case like ours, where an army inferior in number, and waiting for supplies, has, without that reinforcement, impell'd, or hastily brought on, an immediate action. Steevens. If we may be allowed to read—instanc'd, the text may mean —Yes, it has done harm in every case like ours; indeed it did harm in young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury, which the archbishop of York has just instanced or given as an example. Tollet.

Note return to page 817 5&lblank; at least,] Perhaps we should read at last. Steevens.

Note return to page 818 6&lblank; one power against the French,] During this rebellion of Northumberland and the Archbishop, a French army of twelve thousand men landed at Milford Haven in Wales, for the aid of Owen Glendower. See Holinshed, p. 531. Steevens.

Note return to page 819 7If he should do so,] This passage is read in the first edition thus: If he should do so, French and Welsh he leaves his back unarm'd, they baying him at the heels, never fear that. These lines, which were evidently printed from an interlined copy not understood, are properly regulated in the next edition, and are here only mentioned to shew what errors may be suspected to remain. Johnson.

Note return to page 820 8Let us on, &c.] This excellent speech of York was one of the passages added by Shakespeare after his first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 821 9&lblank; if he come but within my vice;—] Vice or grasp; a metaphor taken from a smith's vice: there is another reading in the old edition, view, which I think not so good. Pope.

Note return to page 822 [1] &lblank; lubbar's-head &lblank;] This is, I suppose, a colloquial corruption of the Libbard's-head. Johnson.

Note return to page 823 2A hundred mark is a long one &lblank;] A long one? a long what? It is almost needless to observe, how familiar it is with our poet to play the chimes upon words similar in sound, and differing in signification; and therefore I make no question but he wrote: A hundred mark is a long lone for a poor lone woman to bear: i. e. 100 mark is a good round sum for a poor widow to venture on trust. Theobald.

Note return to page 824 3&lblank; a poor lone woman] A lone woman is a desolate, unfriended woman. So in Maurice Kyffin's Translation of Terence's Andria, 1588: “Moreover this Glycerie is a lone Woman;” —“tum hæc sola est mulier.” In the first part of K. Henry IV. Mrs. Quickly had a husband alive. She is now a widow. Steevens.

Note return to page 825 4&lblank; malmsey-nose &lblank;] That is, red nose, from the effect of malmsey wine. Johnson. In the old song of Sir Simon the King the burthen of each stanza is this:   “Says old Sir Simon the king,   “Says old Sir Simon the king, “With his ale-dropt hose, “And his malmsey-nose,   “Sing hey ding, ding a ding.” Percy.

Note return to page 826 5&lblank; honey-suckle villain! &lblank; honey-seed rogue! &lblank;] The land-lady's corruption of homicidal and homicide. Theobald.

Note return to page 827 6&lblank; a man-queller, &lblank;] Wicliff, in his Translation of the New Testament, uses this word for carnifex, Mark vi. 27. “Herod sent a man-queller, and commanded his head to be brought.” Steevens.

Note return to page 828 7&lblank; Thou wo't, wo't thou? &c.] The first folio reads, I think, less properly, thou wilt not? thou wilt not? Johnson.

Note return to page 829 8Fal. Away, you scullion! &lblank;] This speech is given to the Page in all the editions to the folio of 1664. It is more proper for Falstaff, but that the boy must not stand quite silent and useless on the stage. Johnson.

Note return to page 830 9&lblank; rampallian! &lblank; fustilarian! &lblank;] The first of these terms of abuse may be derived from ramper, Fr. to be low in the world. The other from fustis, a club; i. e. a person whose weapon of defence is a cudgel, not being entitled to wear a sword. The following passage however, in A new Trick to cheat the Devil, 1639, seems to point out another derivation of Rampallian: “And bold Rampallian like, swear and drink drunk.” It may therefore mean a ramping riotous strumpet. Thus in Greene's Ghost haunting Coneycatchers,—“Here was Wilee Beguily rightly acted, and an aged rampalion put beside her schoole-tricks.” Steevens.

Note return to page 831 1&lblank; I'll tickle your catastrophe.] This expression occurs several times in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1626: “Oh, it tickles our catastrophe.” Again: &lblank; “to seduce my blind customers, I tickle his catastrophe for this.” Steevens.

Note return to page 832 2&lblank; to ride the Mare,] The Hostess had threatened to ride Falstaff like the Incubus or Night-mare; but his allusion, (if it be not a wanton one) is to the Gallows, which was ludicrously called the Timber, or two-legg'd Mare. So, in Like will to like, quoth the Devil to the Collier, 1587. The Vice is talking of Tyburn: “This piece of land wherto you inheritors are, “Is called the land of the two-legged Mare. “In this piece of ground there is a Mare indeed, “Which is the quickest Mare in England for speed.” Again: “I will help to bridle the two-legged Mare “And both you for to ride need not to spare.” Steevens.

Note return to page 833 3&lblank; a parcel-gilt goblet, &lblank;] A parcel-gilt goblet is a goblet only gilt over, not of solid gold. So, in B. Jonson's Alchemist: “&lblank; or changing “His parcel-gilt to massy gold.” The same expression occurs in many other old plays. So, in Humour out of Breath, a comedy, by John Day, 1608: “She's parcel poet, parcel fidler already, and they commonly sing three parts in one.” Again, in Heywood's Silver Age, 1613: “I am little better than a parcel-gilt bawd.” Again, in A Christian turn'd Turk, 1612: “You parcel bawd, all usher, answer me.” Holinshed, describing the arrangement of Wolsey's plate, says —“and in the council-chamber was all white, and parcel-gilt plate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 834 4&lblank; for likening his father to a singing-man &lblank;] Such is the reading of the first edition; all the rest have for likening him to a singing-man. The original edition is right; the prince might allow familiarities with himself, and yet very properly break the knight's head when he ridiculed his father. Johnson.

Note return to page 835 5&lblank; goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife,] A Keech is the fat of an ox rolled up by the butcher into a round lump. Steevens.

Note return to page 836 6&lblank; a mess of vinegar;] So, in Mucedorus: “I tell you all the messes are on the table already, “There wants not so much as a mess of mustard.” Again, in an ancient interlude published by Rastel; no title or date: “Ye mary sometyme in a messe of vergesse.” A mess seems to have been the common term for a small proportion of any thing belonging to the kitchen. Steevens.

Note return to page 837 7&lblank; I know you have practised &lblank;] In the first quarto it is read thus—You have, as it appears to me, practised upon the easy yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and person. Without this, the following exhortation of the chief justice is less proper. Johnson.

Note return to page 838 8&lblank; this sneap &lblank;] A Yorkshire word for rebuke. Pope. Sneap signifies to check; as children easily sneaped; herbs and fruits sneaped with cold weather. See Ray's Collection. Again, in Brome's Antipodes, 1638: “Do you sneap me too, my lord? Again: “No need to come hither to be sneap'd.” Again: “&lblank; even as now I was not “When you sneap'd me, my lord.” Steevens.

Note return to page 839 9&lblank; answer in the effect of your reputation, &lblank;] That is, answer in a manner suitable to your character. Johnson.

Note return to page 840 1German hunting in water-work, &lblank;] i. e. In water colours. Warburton. So, in Holinshed, p. 819: “The king for himself had a house of timber, &c. and for his other lodgings he had great and goodlie tents of blew waterwork garnished with yellow and white.” It appears from the same Chronicle, p. 840, that these painted cloths were brought from Holland. The German hunting was therefore a subject very likely to be adopted by the artists of that country. Steevens. The German hunting, is, I suppose, hunting the wild boar. Shakespeare in another place speaks of “a full-acorn'd boar, a German one.” Farmer.

Note return to page 841 2&lblank; these bed-hangings, &lblank;] We should read dead-hangings, i. e. faded. Warburton. I think the present reading may well stand. He recommends painted canvas instead of tapestry, which he calls bed-hangings, in contempt, as fitter to make curtains than to hang walls. Johnson.

Note return to page 842 3[To the officers.] I rather suspect that the words hook on, hook on, are addressed to Bardolph, and mean, go you with her, hang upon her, and keep her in the same humour. In this sense the expression is used in The Guardian, by Massenger: “Hook on, follow him, harpies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 843 4At Basingstoke &lblank;] The quarto reads, at Billingsgate. The players set down the name of the place which was the most familiar to them. Steevens.

Note return to page 844 5&lblank; and God knows &c.] This passage Mr. Pope restored from the first edition. I think it may as well be omitted. It is omitted in the first folio, and in all subsequent editions before Mr. Pope's, and was perhaps expunged by the author. The editors, unwilling to lose any thing of Shakespeare's, not only insert what he has added, but recall what he has rejected. Johnson. I have not met with positive evidence that Shakespeare rejected any passages whatever. Such proof may indeed be inferred from those of the quartos which were published in his life-time, and are declared (in their titles) to have been enlarged and corrected by his own hand. These I would follow, in preference to the folio; and should at all times be cautious of opposing its authority to that of the elder copies. Of the play in question, there is no quarto extant but that in 1600, and therefore we are unauthorized to assert that a single passage was omitted by consent of the poet himself. When the folio (as it often does) will support me in the omission of a sacred name, I am happy to avail myself of the choice it offers; but otherwise do not think I have a right to expunge what Shakespeare should seem to have written, on the bare authority of the player-editors. I have therefore restored the passage in question, to the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 845 6&lblank; all ostentation of sorrow.] Ostentation is here not boastful shew, but simply shew. Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; one well studied in a sad ostent “To please his grandame.” Johnson.

Note return to page 846 7&lblank; proper fellow of my hands; &lblank;] A tall or proper fellow of his hands was a stout fighting man. Johnson.

Note return to page 847 8Poins. Come, you virtuous ass, &c.] Though all editions give this speech to Poins, it seems evident, by the page's immediate reply, that it must be placed to Bardolph: for Bardolph had called to the boy from an ale-house, and, 'tis likely, made him half-drunk; and, the boy being ashamed of it, it is natural for Bardolph, a bold unbred fellow, to banter him on his aukward bashfulness. Theobald.

Note return to page 848 9&lblank; Althea dream'd &c.] Shakespeare is here mistaken in his mythology, and has confounded Althea's firebrand with Hecuba's. The firebrand of Althea was real: but Hecuba, when she was big with Paris, dreamed that she was delivered of a firebrand that consumed the kingdom. Johnson.

Note return to page 849 1&lblank; the martlemas, your master?] That is, the autumn, or rather the latter spring. The old fellow with juvenile passions. Johnson. Martlemas is corrupted from Martinmas, the feast of St. Martin, the eleventh of November. The corruption is general in all the old plays. So, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “A piece of beef hung up since Martlemas.” Steevens.

Note return to page 850 2&lblank; this wen &lblank;] This swoln excrescence of a man. Johnson.

Note return to page 851 3&lblank; the answer is as ready as a borrow'd cap; &lblank;] But how is a borrow'd cap so ready? Read a borrower's cap, and then there is some humour in it: for a man that goes to borrow money, is of all others the most complaisant; his cap is always at hand. Warburton.9Q0734

Note return to page 852 4P. Henry.] All the editors, except Sir Thomas Hanmer, have left this letter in confusion, making the prince read part, and Poins part. I have followed his correction. Johnson.

Note return to page 853 5I will imitate the honourable Roman in brevity:—] The old copy reads Romans, which Dr. Warburton very properly corrected, though he is wrong when he appropriates the character to M. Brutus, who affected great brevity of style. I suppose by the honourable Roman is intended Julius Cæsar, whose veni, vidi, vici, seems to be alluded to in the beginning of the letter. I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. The very words of Cæsar are afterwards quoted by Falstaff. Revisal.

Note return to page 854 6That's to make him eat twenty of his words.] Why just twenty, when the letter contained above eight times twenty? We should read plenty; and in this word the joke, as slender as it is, consists. Warburton. It is not surely uncommon to put a certain number for an uncertain one. Thus in the Tempest, Miranda talks of playing “for a score of kingdoms.” Bushy, in K. Richard II. observes that “each substance of a grief has twenty shadows.” In Julius Cæsar, Cæsar says that the slave's hand “did burn like twenty torches.” In K. Lear we meet with “twenty silly ducking observants,” and “not a nose among twenty.” Robert Green, the pamphleteer, indeed obliged an apparitor to eat his citation, wax and all. In the play of Sir John Oldcastle the Sumner is compelled to do the like: and says on the occasion, —“I'll eat my word.” Harpoole replies, “I meane you shall eat more than your own word, I'll make you eate all the words in the processe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 855 7&lblank; frank?] Frank is sty. Pope.

Note return to page 856 8Ephesians, &c.] Ephesian was a term in the cant of these times, of which I know not the precise notion: it was, perhaps, a toper. So the host in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “It is thine host, thine Ephesian calls.” Johnson.

Note return to page 857 9&lblank; Doll Tear-sheet.] Shakespeare might have taken the hint for this name from the following passage in the Playe of Robyn Hoode, very proper to be played in Maye games, bl. l. no date: “She is a trul of trust, to serve a frier at his lust, “A prycker, a prauncer, a terer of shetes, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 858 1What pagan may that be?] Pagan seems to have been a cant term, implying irregularity either of birth or manners. So, in The Captain, a comedy by B. and Fletcher: “Three little children, one of them was mine; “Upon my conscience the other two were Pagans.” In the City Madam of Massinger it is used (as here) for a prostitute: “&lblank; in all these places “I've had my several Pagans billeted.” Steevens.

Note return to page 859 2Put on two leather jerkins &lblank;] This was a plot very unlikely to succeed where the prince and the drawers were all known; but it produces merriment, which our author found more useful than probability. Johnson.

Note return to page 860 3&lblank; a heavy descension!] Other readings have it declension. Mr. Pope chose the first. On which Mr. Theobald says, “But why not declension? are not the terms properly synonimous?” If so, might not Mr Pope say, in his turn, then why not descension? But it is not so; and descension was preferred with judgment: for descension signifies a voluntary going down; declension, a natural and necessary. Thus when we speak of the sun poetically, as a chariotteer, we should say his descension: if physically, as a mere globe of light, his declension. Warburton. Descension is the reading of the first edition. Mr. Upton proposes that we should read thus by transposition: From a god to a bull, a low transformation!—from a prince to a prentice, a heavy declension! This reading is elegant, and perhaps right. Johnson.

Note return to page 861 4&lblank; but he did long in vain.] Theobald very elegantly conjectures that the poet wrote &lblank; but he did look in vain. Steevens.

Note return to page 862 5&lblank; as the sun In the grey vault of heaven:] So, in one of our author's poems to his mistress: “And truly not the morning sun of heaven “Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 863 6He had no legs, &c.] The twenty two following lines are of those added by Shakespeare after his first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 864 7To rain upon remembrance &lblank;] Alluding to the plant, rosemary, so called, and used in funerals. Thus, in the The Winter's Tale: “For you there's rosemary and rue, these keep “Seeming and savour all the winter long: “Grace and remembrance be unto you both, &c.” For as rue was called herb of grace, from its being used in exorcisms; so rosemary was called remembrance, from its being a cephalic. Warburton.

Note return to page 865 8&lblank; an apple-John.] So in The Ball by Chapman and Shirley, 1639: “&lblank; thy man Apple-John, that looks “As he had been a sennight in the straw, “A ripening for the market.” This apple will keep two years, but becomes very wrinkled and shrivelled. It is called by the French,—Deux-ans. Steevens.

Note return to page 866 9&lblank; Sneak's noise; &lblank; Sneak was a street ministrel, and therefore the drawer goes out to listen if he can hear him in the neighbourhood. Johnson. A noise of musicians anciently signified a concert or company of them. In the old play of Henry V. (not that of Shakespeare) there is this passage: “&lblank; there came the young prince, and two or three more of his companions, and called for wine good store, and then they sent for a noyse of musitians, &c. Falstaff addresses them as a company in another scene of this play. So, again, in The Blind Beggar of Alexandria, a comedy, printed 1598, the count says: “Oh that we had a noise of musicians, to play to this antick as we go.” Again, in The Merry Devil of Edmonton: “Why, Sir George; send for Spindle's noise presently.” Again, in the comedy of All Fools, by Chapman, 1602: “&lblank; you must get us music too: “Call in a cleanly noise; the rogues grow lousy.” Again, in Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “&lblank; All the noise that went with him, poor fellows, have had their fiddle-cases pull'd over their ears.” Again, in Wily Beguiled: “That we will, i'faith Peg; we'll have a whole noise of fidlers there.” Again, in Decker's If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it, 1612: “There's seven score noise at least of English fidlers.” Heywood, in his Iron Age, 1632, has taken two expressions from these plays of Henry IV. and put them into the mouth of Thersites addressing himself to Achilles: “Where's this great sword and buckler man of Greece? “We shall have him in one of Sneak's noise, “And come peaking into the tents of the Greeks, “With,—will you have any music, gentlemen? &lblank; Among Ben Jonson's Leges convivales, is Fidicen, nisi accersitus, non venito. Steevens.

Note return to page 867 1Dispatch: &c.] This period is from the first edition. Pope.

Note return to page 868 2&lblank; here will be old utis: &lblank;] Utis, an old word yet in use in some counties, signifying a merry festival, from the French huit, octo, ab A. S. Eahta, Octavæ festi alicujus.—Skinner. Pope. Old, in this place, does not mean ancient, but was formerly a common augmentative in colloquial language. Old Utis signifies festivity in a great degree. So, in Lingua, 1607: “&lblank; there's old moving among them.” Again, in Decker's comedy, called, If this be not a good Play the Devil is in it: “We shall have old breaking of necks then.” Again, in Soliman and Perseda: “I shall have old laughing.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “Here will be old filching when the press comes out of Paul's.” Steevens.

Note return to page 869 3&lblank; your pulsidge beats &c.] One would almost regard this speech as a burlesque on the following passage in the interlude called the Repentance of Mary Magdelene, 1567. Infidelity says to Mary: “Let me fele your poulses mistresse Mary, be you sicke? “By my troth in as good tempre as any woman can be: “Your vaines are as full of blood, lusty and quicke, “In better taking truly I did you never see.” Steevens.

Note return to page 870 4When Arthur first in court—] The entire ballad is published in the first volume of Dr. Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry. Steevens.

Note return to page 871 5Sick of a calm: &lblank;] I suppose she means to say of a qualm. Steevens.

Note return to page 872 6So is all her sect; &lblank;] I know not why sect is printed in all the copies: I believe sex is meant. Johnson. Sect is, I believe, right. Falstaff means all of her profession. In Mother Bombie, a comedy, 1594, the word is frequently used: “Sil. I am none of that sect. “Can. Thy loving sect is an ancient sect, and an honourable,” &c. Since the foregoing quotations were given, I have found sect so often printed for sex in the old plays, that I suppose these words were anciently synonymous. Thus, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1631: “Deceives our sect of fame and chastity.” Again, in B. and Fletcher's Valentinian: “&lblank; Modesty was made “When she was first intended: when she blushes, “It is the holiest thing to look upon, “The purest temple of her sect, that ever “Made nature a blest founder.” Again, in Whetstone's Arbour of Vertue, 1576: “Who, for that these barons so wrought a slaunder to her sect, “Their foolish, rash, and judgment false, she sharplie did detect.” Steevens.

Note return to page 873 7You make fat rascals, &lblank;] Falstaff alludes to a phrase of the forest. Lean deer are called rascal deer. He tells her she calls him wrong, being fat he cannot be a rascal. Johnson. So, in B. and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle: “The heavy hart, the blowing buck, the rascal, and the pricket.” Again, in The Two angry Women of Abington, 1599: “What take you?—Deer.—You'll ne'er strike rascal? Again, in Quarles's Virgin Widow, in 1656: “&lblank; and have known a rascal from a fat deer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 874 8Your brooches, pearls, and owches;—] Brooches were chains of gold that women wore formerly about their necks. Owches were bosses of gold set with diamonds. Pope. I believe Falstaff gives these splendid names as we give that of carbuncle, to something very different from gems and ornaments: but the passage deserves not a laborious research. Johnson. Your brooches, pearls, and owches,] Is a line in an old song, but I forget where I met with it. Dr. Johnson may be supported in his conjecture by a passage in The Widow's Tears, a comedy, by Chapman, 1612: “&lblank; As many aches in his bones as there are ouches in his skin.” Again, in the Duke's Mistress, by Shirley, 1638. Valerio speaking of a lady's nose, says: “It has a comely length, and is well studded “With gems of price; the goldsmith would give money for't.” Mr. Pope has rightly interpreted ouches in their literal sense. So, in Nash's Lenten Stuff, &c. 1599: “&lblank; three scarfs, bracelets, chains, and ouches.” It appears likewise from a passage in the ancient satire called Cocke Lorelles Bote, printed by Wynkyn de Worde, that the makers of these ornaments were called owchers. “Owchers, skynners, and cutlers.” Dogdale, page 234, in his account of the will of T. de Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, in the time of king Edward III. says: “his jewels he thus disposed: to his daughter Stafford, an ouche called the eagle, which the prince gave him; to his daughter Alice, his next best ouche.” Steevens.

Note return to page 875 9&lblank; the charg'd chambers &lblank;] To understand this quibble, it is necessary to say, that a chamber signifies not only an apartment, but a piece of ordnance. So, in The Fleire, a comedy, 1610: “&lblank; he has taught my ladies to make fireworks; they can deal in chambers already, as well as all the gunners that make them fly off with a train at Lambeth, when the mayor and aldermen land at Westminster.” Again, in the Puritan Widow, 1605: “&lblank; only your chambers are licensed to play upon you, and drabs enow to give fire to them.” A chamber is likewise that part in a mine where the powder is lodged. Steevens.

Note return to page 876 1&lblank; rheumatic &lblank;] She would say splenetic. Hanmer. I believe she means what she says. So, in Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour: “Cob. Why I have my rewme, and can be angry.” So, in our author's Henry V. “He did in some sort handle women; but then he was rheumatic,” &c. Rheumatic, in the cant language of the times, signified capricious, humoursome. In this sense it appears to be used in many of the old plays. Steevens.9Q0738

Note return to page 877 2&lblank; as two dry toasts; &lblank;] Which cannot meet but they grate one another. Johnson.

Note return to page 878 3&lblank; ancient Pistol &lblank;] Is the same as ensign Pistol. Falstaff was captain, Peto lieutenant, and Pistol ensign, or ancient. Johnson.

Note return to page 879 4&lblank; a tame cheater, &lblank;] Gamester and cheater were, in Shakespeare's age, synonimous terms. Ben Jonson has an epigram on Captain Hazard the cheater. Greene in his Mihil Mumchance has the following passage: “They call their art by a new-found name, as cheating, themselves cheators, and the dice cheters, borrowing the term from among our lawyers, with whom all such casuals as fall to the lord at the holding of his leets, as waifes, straies, and such like, be called chetes, and are accustomably said to be escheted to the lord's use.” Hence perhaps the derivation of the verb—to cheat, which I do not recollect to have met with among our most ancient writers. In the Bell-man of London by T. Deckar, 5th edit. 1640, the same derivation of the word is given. “Of all which lawes, the highest in place is the cheating law, or the art of winning money by false dyce. Those that practice this study call themselves cheaters, they dyce cheators, and the money which they purchase cheate: borrowing the terme from our common lawyers, with whom all such casuals as fall to the lord at the holding of his leetes, as waifes, straies, and such like, are said to be escheated to the lordes use, and are called cheates.” This account of the word is likewise given in A Manifest Detection of Dice-play, printed by Vele in the reign of Henry VIII. Steevens.

Note return to page 880 5I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: &lblank;] The humour of this consists in the woman's mistaking the title of cheater, (which our ancestors gave to him whom we now, with better manners, call a gamester) for that officer of the exchequer called an escheator, well known to the common people of that time; and named, either corruptly or satirically, a cheater. Warburton.

Note return to page 881 6I'll drink no more &lblank; for no man's pleasure, I.—] This should not be printed as a broken sentence. The duplication of the pronoun was very common: in the London Prodigal we have, “I scorn service, I.” “I am an ass, I,” says the stage-keeper in the induction to Bartholomew Fair; and Kendal thus translates a well-known epigram of Martial: “I love thee not, Sabidius,   “I cannot tell thee why: “I can saie naught but this alone,   “I do not love thee, I.” In Kendall's collection there are many translations from Claudian, Ausonius, the Anthologia &c. Farmer. So, in K. Richard III. act III. sc. ii. “I do not like these several councils, I.” Steevens. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.” Again, in K. Edw. II. by Marlow, 1622: “I am none of these common peasants, I.” The French still use this idiom.—Je suis Parisien, moi. Malone.

Note return to page 882 7&lblank; filthy bung, &lblank;] In the cant of thievery, to nip a bung was to cut a purse; and among an explanation of many of these terms in Martin Mark-all's Apologie to the Bel-man of London, 1610, it is said that “Bung is now used for a pocket, heretofore for a purse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 883 8&lblank; an you play the saucy cuttle with me.] It appears from Greene's Art of Conny-catching, that cuttle and cuttle-boung were the cant terms for the knife used by the sharpers of that age to cut the bottoms of purses, which were then worn hanging at the girdle. Or the allusion may be to the foul language thrown out by Pistol, which she means to compare with such filth as the cuttle-fish ejects. Steevens.

Note return to page 884 9&lblank; what, with two points on your shoulder? much!] Much was a common expression of disdain at that time, of the same sense with that more modern one, Marry come up. The Oxford editor, not apprehending this, alters it to march. Warburton. I cannot but think the emendation right. This use of much I do not remember; nor is it here proved by any example. Johnson. Dr. Warburton is right. Much! is used thus in B. Jonson's Volpone: “&lblank; But you shall eat it. Much! Again, in Every Man in his Humour: “Much, wench! or much, son!” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “To charge me bring my grain unto the markets: “Ay, much! when I have neither barn nor garner.” Steevens.

Note return to page 885 1&lblank; points &lblank;] As a mark of his commission. Johnson.

Note return to page 886 2No more, Pistol, &c.] This is from the old edition of 1600. Pope.

Note return to page 887 3Captain! thou abominable damn'd cheater, &c.] Pistol's character seems to have been a common one on the stage in the time of Shakespeare. In a Woman's a Weathercock by N. Field, 1612, there is another personage exactly of the same stamp, who is thus described: “Thou unspeakable rascal, thou a soldier! “That with thy slops and cat-a-mountain face, “Thy blather chops, and thy robustious words, “Fright'st the poor whore, and terribly dost exact “A weekly subsidy, twelve pence a piece, “Whereon thou livest; and on my conscience, “Thou snap'st besides with cheats and cut-purses.” Malone.

Note return to page 888 4He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes, and dry'd cakes.] That is, he lives at other mens cost, but is not admitted to their tables, and gets only what is too stale to be eaten in the house. Johnson. It means rather, that he lives on the refuse provisions of bawdy-houses and pastry-cooks shops. Stew'd prunes, when mouldy, were perhaps formerly sold at a cheap rate, as stale pyes and cakes are at present. The allusion to stew'd prunes, and all that is necessary to be known on that subjects, has been already explained in the first part of this historical play. Steevens.

Note return to page 889 5&lblank; as odious as the word occupy; &lblank;] So, B. Jonson in his Discoveries: “Many, out of their own obscene apprehensions, refuse proper and fit words; as, occupy, nature,” &c. Steevens. Occupant seems to have been formerly a term for a woman of the town, as occupier was for a wencher. So in Marston's Satires, 1599: “&lblank; He with his occupant “Are cling'd so close, like dew-worms in the morne, “That he'll not stir.” Again: “Whose senses some damn'd occupant bereaves.” Again, in a song by Sir T. Overbury, 1632: “Here's water to quench maiden's fires, “Here's spirits for old occupiers.” Malone.

Note return to page 890 6Hold book and line, &lblank;] These words are introduced in ridicule, by B. Jonson in The Case is alter'd, 1609. Of absurd and fustian passages from many plays, in which Shakespeare had been a performer, I have always supposed no small part of Pistol's character to be composed: and the pieces themselves being now irretrievably lost, the humour of his allusions is not a little obscured. Steevens.

Note return to page 891 7faitors!] Faitours, says Minshew's Dictionary, is a corruption of the French word faiseurs, i. e. factores, doers; and it is used in the statute 7 Rich. II. c. 5, for evil doers, or rather for idle livers; from the French, faitard, which in Cotgrave's Dictionary signifies slothful, idle, &c. Tollet. &lblank; down faitors. i. e. traitors, rascals. So Spenser: “Into new woes, unweeting, was I cast “By this false faitour.” The word often occurs in the Chester Mysteries. Steevens.

Note return to page 892 8&lblank; Have we not Hiren here?] I have been told that the words—have we not Hiren here, are taken from a very old play, entitled, Hiren, or the Fayre Greeke, and are spoken by Mahomet when his Bassas upbraided him with having lost so many provinces through an attachment to effeminate pleasures. Pistol, with some humour, is made to repeat these words before Falstaff and his messmates, as he points to Doll Tear-sheet, in the same manner as the Turkish monarch had pointed to Hiren (Irene) before the whole assembled divan. This dramatic piece I have never seen; but it is mentioned in that very useful and curious book The Companion to the Play-house, as the work of W. Barkstead, published in 1611. Mr. Oldys in a MS. note confirms this circumstance. It appears likewise from the “Merry conceited Jests of George Peele, Gentleman,” who was master of arts in 1579, that a play called Mahomet and Irene the fair Greek, had been acted, but was written down by the hero of this pamphlet. In an old comedy, 1608, called Law Tricks; or, Who would have thought it? the same quotation is likewise introduced, and on a similar occasion. The prince Polymetes says: “What ominous news can Polymetes daunt? “Have we not Hiren here?” Again, in Massinger's Old Law: “Clown. No dancing for me, we have Siren here. “Cook. Syren! 'twas Hiren the fair Greek, man.” Again, in Decker's Satiromastix: “&lblank; therefore whilst we have Hiren here, speak my little dish-washers.” Again, in Love's Mistress, a masque by T. Heywood, 1636: “&lblank; say she is a foul beast in your eyes, yet she is my Hyren.” Mr. Tollet observes, that in Adams's Spiritual Navigator, &c. 1615, there is the following passage: “There be sirens in the sea of the world. Syrens? Hirens, as they are now called. What a number of these sirens, Hirens, cockatrices, courteghians,—in plain English, harlots,—swimme amongst us?” Pistol may therefore mean, Have we not a strumpet here? and why I am thus used by her? Steevens.9Q0739

Note return to page 893 9hollow-pamper'd jades of Asia, &c.] These lines are in part a quotation out of an old absurd fustian play, entitled, Tamburlain's Conquests; or, The Scythian Shepherd. Theobald. These lines are addressed by Tamburlaine to the captive princes who draw his chariot: “Holla, you pamper'd jades of Asia, “What! can you draw but twenty miles a day?” The same passage is burlesqued by Beaumont and Fletcher in The Coxcomb. I was surprized to find a simile, much and justly celebrated by the admirers of Spenser's Fairy Queen, inserted almost word for word in the second part of this tragedy. The earliest edition of those books of The Fairy Queen, in one of which it is to be found, was published in 1590, and Tamburlaine had been represented in or before the year 1588, as appears from the preface to Perimedes the Blacksmith, by Robert Greene. The first copy, however, that I have met with, is in 1590, and the next in 1593. In the year 1590 both parts of it were entered on the books of the Stationers' Company. “Like to an almond-tree ymounted high “On top of green Selinis, all alone, “With blossoms brave bedecked daintily, “Whose tender locks do tremble every one “At every little breath that under heaven is blown.” Spenser. “Like to an almond-tree ymounted high “Upon the lofty and celestial mount “Of ever-green Selinis, quaintly deck'd “With bloom more bright than Erycina's brows; “Whose tender blossoms tremble every one “At every little breath from heaven is blown.” Marlow's Tamburlaine. Steevens.

Note return to page 894 1&lblank; Cannibals,] Cannibal is used by a blunder for Hannibal. This was afterwards copied by Congreve's Bluff and Wittol. Bluff is a character apparently taken from this of ancient Pistol. Johnson. Perhaps the character of a bully on the English stage might have been originally taken from Pistol; but Congreve seems to have copied his Nol Bluff more immediately from Jonson's Captain Bobadil. Steevens.

Note return to page 895 2Die men like dogs; &lblank;] This expression I find in Ram-alley or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Your lieutenant's an ass. “How an ass? Die men like dogs?” Steevens.

Note return to page 896 3&lblank; Have we not Hiren here? Host. O' my word captain, there's none such here.] i. e. Shall I fear that have this trusty and invincible sword by my side? For, as king Arthur's swords were called Caliburne and Ron; as Edward the Confessor's, Curtana; as Charlemagne's, Joyeuse; Orlando's, Durindana; Rinaldo's, Fusberta; and Rogero's, Balisarda; so Pistol, in imitation of these heroes, calls his sword Hiren. I have been told, Amadis du Gaul had a sword of this name. Hirir is to strike: from hence it seems probable that Hiren may be derived; and so signify a swashing, cutting sword.—But what wonderful humour is there in the good hostess so innocently mistaking Pistol's drift, fancying that he meant to fight for a whore in the house, and therefore telling him, O' my word, captain, there's none such here; what the good-jer! do you think, I would deny her? Theobald. As it appears from a former note, that Hiren was sometimes a cant term for a mistress or harlot, Pistol may be supposed to give it on this occasion, as an endearing name, to his sword, in the same spirit of fondness that he presently calls it—sweetheart. Pistol delights in bestowing titles on his weapon. In this scene he also calls it—Atropos. Steevens. &lblank; have we not Hiren here?] I know not whence Shakespeare derived this allusion to Arthur's lance. “Accinctus etiam Caliburno gladio optimo, lancea nomine iron, dexteram suam decoravit,” M. Westmonasteriensis, p. 98. Bowle. Geoffery of Monmouth, p. 65, reads Ron instead of Iron. Steevens.

Note return to page 897 4&lblank; feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis:] This is a burlesque on a line in an old play called The Battel of Alcazar, &c. printed in 1594, in which Muley Mahomet enters to his wife with lion's flesh on his sword: “Feed then, and faint not, my faire Calypolis.” And again, in the same play: “Hold thee, Calipolis; feed, and faint no more.” And again: “Feed and be fat, that we may meet the foe, “With strength and terrour to revenge our wrong.” This line is quoted in several of the old plays; and Decker, in his Satiromastix, 1602, has introduced Shakespeare's burlesque of it: “Feed and be fat my fair Calipolis: stir not my beauteous wriggle-tails.” Steevens. It is likewise quoted by Marston in his What you will, as it stands in Shakespeare. Malone.

Note return to page 898 5—Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me contenta.—] Sir Tho. Hanmer reads: “Si fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me contenta,” which is undoubtedly the true reading, but perhaps it was intended that Pistol should corrupt it. Johnson. Pistol is only a copy of Hannibal Gonsaga, who vaunted on yielding himself a prisoner, as you may read in an old collection of tales, called Wits, Fits, and Fancies: “Si fortuna me tormenta, “Il speranza me contenta.” And sir Richard Hawkins, in his Voyage to the South Sea, 1593, throws out the same gingling distich on the loss of his pinnace. Farmer.

Note return to page 899 6Come we to full points here; &c.] That is, shall we stop here, shall we have no further entertainment? Johnson.

Note return to page 900 7Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif:] i. e. I kiss thy fist. Mr. Pope will have it, that neif here is from nativa; i. e. a woman-slave that is born in one's house; and that Pistol would kiss Falstaff's domestic mistress Doll Tear-sheet. Theobald. Nief, neif, and naif, are certainly law-terms for a woman-slave. So in Thoroton's Antiq. of Nottinghamshire,—“Every naif or she-villain, that took a husband or committed fornication, paid marchet for redemption of her blood 5 s. and 4d.” Again, in Stanyhurst's Virgil, 1582: Me famulam famuloque Heleno transmisit habendam. “Me his nyefe to his servaunt Helenus full firmelye betroathed.” I believe neif is used by Shakespeare for fist. It is still employed in that sense in the northern counties, and by B. Jonson in his Poetaster: “Reach me thy neif.” Again, in The Witch of Edmonton, by Rowley: “Oh, sweet Ningle, thy neif once again.” Steevens.

Note return to page 901 8&lblank; Galloway nags?] That is, common hackneys. Johnson.

Note return to page 902 9&lblank; like a shove-groat shilling:] This expression occurs in Every Man in his Humour: “made it run as smooth off the tongue as a shove-groat shilling.” So again, in the Roaring Girl, 1611: “Away slid I, man, like a shovel-board shilling.” Again, in Humour's Ordinary by Samuel Rowlands. Satire 4. “At shove-groat, venter-point, or crosse and pile.” I suppose it to have been a piece of polished metal made use of in the play of shovel-board. Steevens.9Q0741

Note return to page 903 1&lblank; then death Rock me asleep, &lblank;] This is a fragment of an ancient song supposed to have been written by Anne Boleyn: “O death rock me on slepe,   “Bring me on quiet rest, &c.” For the entire song, see sir John Hawkin's General Hist. of Music, vol. III. p. 31. Steevens.

Note return to page 904 2&lblank; little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, &lblank;] For tidy sir Thomas Hanmer reads tiny; but they are both words of endearment, and equally proper. Bartholomew boar-pig is a little pig made of paste, sold at Bartholomew fair, and given to children for a fairing. Johnson.9Q0743 Tidy has two significations, timely, and neat. In the first of these senses, I believe, it is used in the Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “&lblank; I myself have given good, tidie lambs.” Steevens.

Note return to page 905 3&lblank; like a death's head;] It appears from the following passage in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1605, that it was the custom for the bawds of that age to wear a death's head in a ring, very probably with the common motto, memento mori. Cocledemoy, speaking of some of these, says:—“as for their death, how can it be bad, since their wickedness is always before their eyes, and a death's head most commonly on their middle finger.” Again, in Massinger's Old Law:—“fell some of my cloaths to buy thee a death's head and put upon thy middle finger: your least considering bawds do so much.” Again, in Northward Hoe, 1607: “&lblank; as if I were a bawd, no ring pleases me but a death's-head.” Steevens.

Note return to page 906 4&lblank; Tewksbury mustard; &c.] Tewksbury is a market-town in the county of Gloucester, formerly noted for mustard-balls made there, and sent into other parts. Dr. Gray.

Note return to page 907 5&lblank; in a mallet.] So, in Milton's Prose Works, 1738, vol. I. p. 300: “Though the fancy of this doubt be as obtuse and sad as any mallet.” Tollet.

Note return to page 908 6&lblank; eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends &c.] These qualifications I do not understand. Johnson. Conger with fennel was formerly regarded as a provocative. It is mentioned by B. Jonson in his Bartholomew-Fair,—“like a long lac'd conger with green fennel in the joll of it.” And in Philaster, one of the ladies advises the wanton Spanish prince to abstain from this article of luxury. Greene likewise in his Quip for an upstart Courtier, calls fennel “women's weeds”—“fit generally for that sex, sith while they are maidens they wish wantonly.” The qualification that follows, viz. that of swallowing candles' ends by way of flap-dragons, seems to indicate no more than that the prince loved him because he was always ready to do any thing for his amusement, however absurd or unnatural. Nash, in Pierce Pennyless his Supplication to the Devil, advises hard drinkers, —“to have some shooing horne to pull on their wine, as a rasher on the coals, or a red herring; or to stir it about with a candle's end to make it taste the better,” &c. And Ben Jonson in his News from the Moon, &c. a masque, speaks of those who eat candles ends, as an act of love and gallantry; and B. and Fletcher in Monsieur Thomas: “&lblank; carouse her health in cans, and candles' ends.” In Rowley's Match at Midnight, 1633, a captain says, that his “corporal was lately choak'd at Delf by swallowing a flap-dragon.” Again, in Shirley's Constant Maid, 1640,—“or he might spit flap-dragons from his fire of sack, to light us.” Again, in &grT;&grE;&grK;&grN;&grO;&grG;&grA;&grM;&grI;&grA;; or, The Marriages of the Arts, 1618: —“like a flap-dragon, or a piece of bread sop'd in aqua vitæ, and set a fire.” Again, in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1605:—“have I not been drunk to your health, swallow'd flap-dragons, eat glasses, drank urine, stabb'd arms, and done all the offices of protested gallantry for your sake?” Again, in The Christian turn'd Turk, 1612:—“as familiarly as pikes do gudgeons, and with as much facility as Dutchmen swallow flap-dragons.” Steevens. A flap-dragon is some small combustible body, fired at one end, and put afloat in a glass of liquor. It is an act of a toper's dexterity to toss off the glass in such a manner as to prevent the flap-dragon from doing mischief. Johnson.

Note return to page 909 7&lblank; wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg;] The learned editor of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 1775, observes that such is part of the description of a smart abbot, by an anonymous writer of the thirteenth century. “Ocreas habebat in cruribus, quasi innatæ essent, sine plicâ porrectas.” MS. Bod. James. n. 6. p. 121. Steevens.

Note return to page 910 8&lblank; discreet stories: &lblank;] We should read indiscreet. Warburton. I suppose by discreet stories, is meant what suspicious masters and mistresses of families would call prudential information; i. e. what ought to be known, and yet is disgraceful to the teller. Among the virtues of John Rugby, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Quickly adds, that “he is no tell-tale, no breed-bate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 911 9&lblank; nave of a wheel &lblank;] Nave and knave are easily reconciled, but why nave of a wheel? I suppose from his roundness. He was called round man in contempt before. Johnson. So, in the play represented before the king and queen in Hamlet: “Break all the spokes and fellies of her wheel, “And bowl the round nave down the steep of heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 912 1Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction!] This was indeed a prodigy. The astrologers, says Ficinus, remark, that Saturn and Venus are never conjoined. Johnson.

Note return to page 913 2&lblank; the fiery Trigon, &c.] Trigonum igneum is the astronomical term when the upper planets meet in a fiery sign. So, in Warner's Albions England, 1602. B. 6. chap. 31. “Even at the firie Trigon shall your chief ascendant be.” Again, in Pierce's Supererogation, or a new Praise of the old Asse, &c. by Gabriel Harvey, 1593: “&lblank; now the warring planet was expected in person, and the fiery Trigon seemed to give the alarm.” Steevens.

Note return to page 914 3&lblank; lisping to his master's old tables, &c.] We should read, clasping too his master's old tables, &c. i. e. embracing his master's cast-off whore, and now his bawd [his note-book, his counsel-keeper]. We have the same phrase again in Cymbeline: “You clasp young Cupid's tables.” Warburton. This emendation is very specious. I think it right. Johnson. I believe the old reading to be the true one. Bardolph was very probably drunk, and might lisp a little in his courtship; or might assume an affected softness of speech, like Chaucer's Frere: late edit. Prol. v. 266: “Somwhat he lisped for his wantonnesse, “To make his English swete upon his tonge.” Or, like the Page in the Mad Lover of Beaumont and Fletcher, who “Lisps when he lift to catch a chambermaid.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; He can carve too and lisp.” Steevens. Certainly the word clasping better preserves the integrity of the metaphor, or perhaps, as the expression is old tables, we might read licking: Bardolph was kissing the hostess; and old ivory books were commonly cleaned by licking them. Farmer.

Note return to page 915 4&lblank; a kirtle of?] I know not exactly what a kirtle is. The following passages may serve to shew that it was something different from a gown. “How unkindly she takes the matter, and cannot be reconciled with less than a gown or a kirtle of silk.” Greene's Art of Legerdemaine, &c. 1612. Again, in one of Stanyhurst's poems, 1582: “This gowne your lovemate, that kirtle costlye she craveth.” Bale, in his Actes of English Votaries, says that Roger earl of Shrewsbury sent “to Clunyake in France, for the kyrtle of holy Hugh the abbot.” Perhaps kirtle, in its common acceptation, means a petticoat. “Half a dozen taffata gowns or sattin kirtles.” Cynthia's Revels by Ben. Jonson. Steevens.

Note return to page 916 5Ha! a bastard &c.] The improbability of this scene is scarcely balanced by the humour. Johnson.

Note return to page 917 6&lblank; candle-mine, &lblank;] Thou inexhaustible magazine of tallow. Johnson.

Note return to page 918 7&lblank; and burns, poor soul!] This is sir T. Hanmer's reading. Undoubtedly right. The other editions had, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls. The venereal disease was called in these times the brennynge or burning. Johnson.

Note return to page 919 8&lblank; all victuallers do so:] The brothels were formerly skreened under pretext of being victualling houses and taverns. So, in Webster and Rowley's Cure for a Cuckold: This informer comes into Turnbull Street to a victualling house, and there falls in league with a wench, &c.”—Now Sir this fellow, in revenge, informs against the bawd that kept the house, &c.” Again, in Gascoigne's Glass of Government, 1575: “&lblank; at a house with a red lattice you shall find an old bawd called Pandarina, and a young damsel called Lamia.” Barrett in his Alvearie, 1580, defines a victualling house thus: “A tavern where meate is eaten out of due season.” Steevens.

Note return to page 920 9O run, Doll, run; run good Doll.] Thus the folio. The quarto reads, O run, Doll run, run: Good Doll, come: she comes blubber'd: Yea, will you come, Doll? Steevens.

Note return to page 921 1This first scene is not in my copy of the first edition. Johnson. There are two copies of the same date; and in one of these, the scene has been added. Steevens.

Note return to page 922 2A watch-case, &c.] This alludes to the watchman set in garrison-towns upon some eminence attending upon an alarum-bell, which he was to ring out in case of fire, or any approaching danger. He had a case or box to shelter him from the weather, but at his utmost peril he was not to sleep whilst he was upon duty. These alarum-bells are mentioned in several other places of Shakespeare. Hanmer.

Note return to page 923 3&lblank; slippery clouds,] The modern editors read shrowds. The old copy, &lblank; in the slippery clouds; but I know not what advantage is gained by the alteration, for shrowds had anciently the same meaning as clouds. I could bring many instances of this use of the word from Drayton. So in his Miracles of Moses: “And the sterne thunder from the airy shrowds, “To the sad world, in fear and horror spake.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Poem on Inigo Jones: “And peering forth of Iris in the shrowds.” A moderate tempest would hang the waves in the shrowds of a ship; a great one might poetically be said to suspend them on the the clouds, which were too slippery to retain them. So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; I have seen “Th' ambitious ocean swell, and rage and foam “To be exalted with the threatening clouds.” Drayton's airy shrowds are the airy covertures of heaven; which plain language [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 924 instead of, which plain language, read, which in plain language.

Note return to page 925 4That, with the hurly,] Hurly is noise, derived from the French hurler to howl, as hurly-burly from Hurluberlu, Fr. Steevens.

Note return to page 926 5&lblank; Then, happy low, lie down!] Evidently corrupted from happy lowly clown. These two lines making the just conclusion from what preceded. “If sleep will fly a king and consort itself with beggars, then happy the lowly clown, and uneasy the crown'd head.” Warburton. Dr. Warburton has not admitted this emendation into his text: I am glad to do it the justice which its author has neglected. Johnson. The sense of the old reading seems to be this: “You, who are happy in your humble situations, lay down your heads to rest! the head that wears a crown lies too uneasy to expect such a blessing.” Had not Shakespeare thought it necessary to subject himself to the tyranny of rhime, he would probably have said:—“then happy low, sleep on!” Sir W. D'Avenant has the same thought in his Law for Lovers: “How soundly they sleep whose pillows lie low!” Steevens.

Note return to page 927 6In the old edition: Why then good morrow to you all, my lords: Have you read o'er, &c.] The king sends letters to Surrey and Warwick, with charge that they should read them and attend him. Accordingly here Surrey and Warwick come, and nobody else. The king would hardly have said, “Good morrow to to you all,” to two peers. Theobald. Sir Thomas Hanmer and Dr. Warburton have received this emendation, and read well for all. The reading either way is of no importance. Johnson.

Note return to page 928 7It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd,] What would he have more? We should read: It is but as a body flight distemper'd. Warburton. The present reading is right. Distemper, that is, according to the old physic, a disproportionate mixture of humours, or inequality of innate heat and radical humidity, is less than actual disease, being only the state which foreruns or produces diseases. The difference between distemper and disease seems to be much the same as between disposition and habit. Johnson.

Note return to page 929 8My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.] I believe Shakespeare wrote school'd; tutor'd, and brought to submission. Warburton. Cool'd is certainly right. Johnson.

Note return to page 930 9&lblank; O, if this were seen, &c.] These four lines are supplied from the edition of 1600. Warburton. My copy wants the whole scene, and therefore these lines. There is some difficulty in the line, What perils past, what crosses to ensue; because it seems to make past perils equally terrible with ensuing crosses. Johnson.

Note return to page 931 1But which of you was by, &c.] He refers to King Richard, act V. scene ii. But whether the king's or the author's memory fails him, so it was, that Warwick was not present at that conversation. Johnson.

Note return to page 932 2Cousin Nevil,] Shakespeare has mistaken the name of the present nobleman. The earldom of Warwick was at this time in the family of Beauchamp, and did not come into that of the Nevils till many years after, in the latter end of the reign of king Henry VI. when it descended to Anne Beauchamp, (the daughter of the earl here introduced) who was married to Richard Nevil, earl of Salisbury. Steevens.

Note return to page 933 3And, by the necessary form of this,] I think we might better read: The necessary form of things. The word this has no very evident antecedent. Johnson. If any change were wanting, I would read: And by the necessary form of these. i. e. the things mentioned in the preceding line. Steevens.

Note return to page 934 4Are these things then necessities? Then let us meet them like necessities:—] I am inclined to read: Then let us meet them like necessity. That is, with the resistless violence of necessity; then comes more aptly the following line: And that same word even now cries out on us. That is, the word necessity. Johnson.

Note return to page 935 5&lblank; unto the Holy Land.] This play, like the former, proceeds in one unbroken tenor through the first edition, and there is therefore no evidence that the division of the acts was made by the author. Since, then, every editor has the same right to mark the intervals of action as the players, who made the present distribution, I should propose that this scene may be added to the foregoing act, and the remove from London to Glocestershire be made in the intermediate time, but that it would shorten the next act too much, which has not even now its due proportion to the rest. Johnson.

Note return to page 936 6Justice Shallow's seat in Glocestershire.] From the following passage in The Returne from Parnassus, 1606, we may conclude that Kempe was the original Justice Shallow.—Burbage and Kempe are introduced instructing some Cambridge students to act.—Burbage makes one of the students repeat some lines of Hieronymo and K. Rich. III. Kempe says to another, “Now for you—methinks you belong to my tuition; and your face methinks would be good for a foolish Mayor, or a foolish Justice of Peace.”—And again— “Thou wilt do well in time if thou wilt be ruled by thy betters, that is by myselfe, and such grave aldermen of the playhouse as I am.”—It appears from Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593, that he likewise played the Clown. “What can be made of a ropemaker more than a clowne? Will. Kempe, I mistrust it will fall to to thy lot for a merriment one of these dayes.” Malone.

Note return to page 937 7&lblank; by the rood.] i. e. The cross. Pope.

Note return to page 938 8Silence.] The oldest copy of this play was published in 1600. It must however have been acted somewhat earlier, as in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, which was performed in 1599, is the following reference to it: “No, lady, this is a kinsman to Justice Silence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 939 9&lblank; George Bare, &lblank;] The quarto reads George Barnes. Steevens.

Note return to page 940 1&lblank; Will Squele a Cotswold man, &lblank;] The games at Cotswold were, in the time of our author, very famous. Of these I have seen accounts in several old pamphlets; and Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele as a Cotswold man, meant to have him understood to be one who was well versed in those exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit, and an athletic constitution. I suppose the following passage in the ancient Interlude of Nature, bl. l. no date, contains an allusion of the same kind: “By my fayth ye are wont to be as bold “As yt were a lyon of Cottyswold.” Again, in Sir John Oldcastle, 1600: “You old stale ruffin, you lyon of Cotsoll.” Steevens.

Note return to page 941 2&lblank; swinge-bucklers &lblank;] Swinge-bucklers and swash-bucklers were words implying rakes or rioters in the time of Shakespeare. Nash, addressing himself to his old opponent Gabriel Harvey, 1598, says: “Turpe senex miles, 'tis time for such an olde foole to leave playing the swash-buckler.” Again, in The Devil's Charter, 1607, Caraffa says, “&lblank; when I was a scholar in Padua, faith, then I could have swing'd a sword and buckler,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 942 3&lblank; bona-robas &lblank;] i. e. Ladies of pleasure. Bona Roba, Ital. So, in The Bride by Nabbes, 1640: “Some bona-roba they have been sporting with.” Steevens.

Note return to page 943 4&lblank; Then was Jack Falstaff, now sir John, a boy; and page to Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk.] The following circumstances, tending to prove that Shakespeare altered the name of Oldcastle to that of Falstaff, have hitherto been overlooked. In a poem by J. Weever, entitled “The Mirror of Martyrs, or the Life and Death of that thrice valiant Capitaine and most godly Martyre Sir John Oldcastle Knight, Lord Cobham,” 18mo. 1601, Oldcastle, relating the events of his life, says: “Within the spring-tide of my flowring youth, “He [his father] stept into the winter of his age; “Made meanes (Mercurius thus begins the truth) “That I was made Sir Thomas Mowbrais page.” Again, in a pamphlet entitled “The wandering Jew telling fortunes to Englishmen,” 4to. (the date torn off, but apparently a republication about the middle of the last century) is the following passage in the Glutton's speech: “I do not live by the sweat of my brows, but am almost dead with sweating. I eate much, but can talke little. Sir John Oldcastle was my great grandfather's father's uncle. I come of a huge kindred.” Reed. Different conclusions are sometimes drawn from the same premises. Because Shakespeare borrowed a single circumstance from the life of the real Oldcastle, and imparted it to the fictitious Falstaff, does it follow that the name of the former was ever employed as a cover to the vices of the latter? Is it not more likely, because Falstaff was known to possess one feature in common with Oldcastle, that the vulgar were led to imagine that Falstaff was only Oldcastle in disguise? Hence too might have arisen the story that our author was compelled to change the name of the one for that of the other; a story sufficiently specious to have imposed on the writer of the “Wandering Jew,” as well as on the credulity of Field, Fuller, and others, whose coincidence has been brought in support of an opinion contrary to my own. Steevens.

Note return to page 944 5Skogan's head &lblank;] Who Scogan was, may be understood from the following passage in The Fortunate Isles, a masque by Ben Jonson, 1626; “Methinks you should enquire now after Skelton, “And master Scogan, &lblank; “Scogan? what was he? &lblank; “Oh, a fine gentleman, and a master of arts “Of Henry the Fourth's times, that made disguises “For the king's sons, and writ in ballad royal “Daintily well,” &c. Among the works of Chaucer is a poem called “Scogan, unto the Lordes and Gentilmen of the Kinge's House.” Steevens.

Note return to page 945 6a crack,] This is an old islandic word, signifying a boy or child. One of the fabulous kings and heroes of Denmark, called Hrolf, was surnamed Krake. See the story in Edda, Fable 63. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 946 7&lblank; clapp'd in the clout &lblank;] i. e. Hit the white mark. Warburton.

Note return to page 947 8&lblank; fourteen and fourteen and a half, &lblank;] That is, fourteen score of yards. Johnson.

Note return to page 948 9Good morrow, &c.] The quarto gives this as well as the following part of the speech to Bardolph. The folio divides it between Shallow and him. I have followed the quarto. Steevens.

Note return to page 949 1&lblank; very good, a good phrase.] Accommodate was a modish term of that time, as Ben Jonson informs us: “You are not to cast or wring for the perfumed terms of the time, as accommodation, complement, spirit, &c. but use them properly in their places as others.” Discoveries. Hence Bardolph calls it a word of exceeding good command. His definition of it is admirable, and highly satirical: nothing being more common than for inaccurate speakers or writers, when they should define, to put their hearers off with a synonimous term; or, for want of that, even with the same term differently accommodated; as in the instance before us. Warburton. The same word occurs in Jonson's Every Man in his Humour: “Hostess, accommodate us with another bedstaff: “The woman does not understand the words of action.” Steevens.

Note return to page 950 2&lblank; we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book.] That is, we have in the muster book many names for which we receive pay, though we have not the men. Johnson.

Note return to page 951 8She could never away with me.] This expression of dislike is used by Maurice Kyffin, in his translation of the Andria of Terence, 1588: “All men that be in love can ill away to have wives appointed them by others.” Perhaps the original meaning was—such a one cannot travel on the same road with me. Steevens.

Note return to page 952 9&lblank; bona-roba.] A fine showy wanton. Johnson. Bona-roba was, in our author's time, the common term for a harlot. It is used in that sense by B. Jonson in his Every Man out of his Humour, and by many others. Steevens.

Note return to page 953 1&lblank; I have three pound &lblank;] Here seems to be a wrong computation. He had forty shillings for each. Perhaps he meant to conceal part of the profit. Johnson.

Note return to page 954 2For you, Mouldy, stay at home till you are past service:] This should surely be: “For you, Mouldy, you have stay'd at home,” &c. Falstaff has before a similar allusion, “'Tis the more time thou wert used.” There is some mistake in the number of recruits: Shallow says, that Falstaff should have four there, but he appears to get but three: Wart, Shadow, and Feeble. Farmer. &lblank; stay at home till you are past service:] Perhaps this passage should be read and pointed thus: “For you, Mouldy, stay at home still; you are past service:—” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 955 3&lblank; the thewes, &lblank;] i. e. the muscular strength or appearance of manhood. So, again: “For nature crescent, does not grow alone “In thewes and bulk.” In other ancient writers this term implies manners, or behaviour only. Spenser often uses it; and I find it likewise in Gascoigne's Glass of Government, 1575: “And honour'd more than bees of better thewes.” Shakespeare is perhaps singular in his application of it to the perfections of the body. Steevens.

Note return to page 956 4assemblance of a man?] Thus the old copies. The modern editors read—assemblage. Steevens.

Note return to page 957 5&lblank; swifter than he that gibbets-on the brewer's bucket.] Swifter than he that carries beer from the vat to the barrel, in buckets hung upon a gibbet or beam crossing his shoulders. Johnson.

Note return to page 958 6&lblank; caliver &lblank;] A hand-gun. Johnson. So, in the Masque of Flowers, 1613: “The serjeant of Kawasha carried on his shoulders a great tobacco-pipe as big as a caliver.” It is singular that Shakespeare, who has so often derived his sources of merriment from recent customs or fashionable follies, should not once have mentioned tobacco, though at a time when all his contemporaries were active in its praise or its condemnation. Steevens.9Q0746

Note return to page 959 7&lblank; bald shot.—] Shot is used for shooter, one who is to fight by shooting. Johnson.

Note return to page 960 8&lblank; Mile-end green,] It appears from Stowe's Chronicle, (edit. 1615, p. 702.) that in the year 1585, 4000 citizens were trained and exercised at Mile-end. Steevens.

Note return to page 961 9&lblank; (I was then sir Dagonet in Arthur's show) &lblank;] The only intelligence I have gleaned of this worthy wight sir Dagonet, is from Beaumont and Fletcher in their Knight of the Burning Pestle: “Boy. Besides, it will shew ill-favouredly to have a grocer's prentice to court a king's daughter. “Cit. Will it so, sir? You are well read in histories; I pray you, what was sir Dagonet? Was he not prentice to a grocer in London? Read the play of The Four Prentices of London, where they toss their pikes so, &c.” Theobald. The story of sir Dagonet is to be found in La Mort d'Arthure, an old romance much celebrated in our author's time, or a little before it. “When papistry,” says Ascham in his School-master, as a standing pool, overflowed all England, few books were read in our tongue saving certain books of chivalry, as they said, for pastime and pleasure; which books, as some say, were made in monasteries by idle monks. As one for example, La Mort d'Arthure.” In this romance sir Dagonet is king Arthur's fool. Shakespeare would not have shewn his justice capable of representing any higher character. Johnson. Arthur's show seems to have been a theatrical representation made out of the old romance of Morte Arthure, the most popular one of our author's age. Sir Dagonet is king Arthur's 'squire. Theobald remarks on this passage: “The only intelligence I have gleaned of this worthy knight (sir Dagonet) is from Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Knight of the Burning Pestle.” The commentators on Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle have not observed that the design of that play is founded upon a comedy called The Four Prentices of London, with the Conquest of Jerusalem; as it hath been diverse Times acted at the Red Bull, by the Queen's Majesty's Servants. Written by Tho. Heywood, 1612. For as in Beaumont and Fletcher's play, a grocer in the Strand turns knight-errant, making his apprentice his 'squire, &c. so in Heywood's play, four apprentices accoutre themselves as knights, and go to Jerusalem in quest of adventures. One of them, the most important character, is a goldsmith, another a grocer, another a mercer, and a fourth an haberdasher. But Beaumont and Fletcher's play, though founded upon it, contains many satirical strokes against Heywood's comedy, the force of which are entirely lost to those who have not seen that comedy. Thus in Beaumont and Fletcher's prologue, or first scene, a citizen is introduced declaring that, in the play, he “he will have a grocer, and he shall do admirable things.” Again, act I. scene i. Rafe says, “Amongst all the worthy books of atchievements, I do not call to mind that I have yet read of a grocer-errant: I will be the said knight. Have you heard of any that hath wandered unfurnished of his squire and dwarf? My elder brother Tim shall be my trusty 'squire, and George my dwarf.” In the following passage the allusion to Heywood's comedy is demonstrably manifest, act iv. scene i. “Boy. It will shew ill-favouredly to have a grocer's prentice court a king's daughter. “Cit. Will it so, Sir? You are well read in histories; I pray you who was sir Dagonet? Was he not prentice to a grocer in London? Read the play of The Four Prentices, where they toss their pikes so.” In Heywood's comedy, Eustace the grocer's prentice is introduced courting the daughter of the king of France; and in the frontispiece the four prentices are represented in armour tilting with javelins. Immediately before the last quoted speeches we have the following instances of allusion. “Cit. Let the Sophy of Persia come, and christen him a child. “Boy. Believe me, sir, that will not do so well; 'tis flat; it has been before at the Red Bull.” A circumstance in Heywood's comedy; which, as has been already specified, was acted at the Red Bull. Beaumont and Fletcher's play is pure burlesque. Heywood's is a mixture of the droll and serious, and was evidently intended to ridicule the reigning fashion of reading romances. Warton.9Q0748 In sir W. Davenant's comedy of the Wits is an allusion to this play of Heywood: “I'd lose my wedding to behold these Dagonets.” Steevens.

Note return to page 962 9&lblank; about Turnbull-street; &lblank;] In an old comedy call'd Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, this street is mentioned again: “&lblank; Sir, get you gone, “You swaggering, cheating, Turnbull-street rogue.” Nash, in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication, commends the sisters of Turnbull-street to the patronage of the devil. In The Inner Temple Masque, by Middleton, 1619: “'Tis in your charge to pull down bawdy-houses, “&lblank; cause spoil in Shoreditch, “And deface Turnbull.” Again, in Middleton's comedy, called Any Thing for a quiet Life, a French bawd says:—“J'ay une sille qui parle un peu François; elle conversera avec vous, a la Fleur de Lys, en Turnbull-street.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady—“Here has been such a hurry, such a din, such dismal drinking, swearing, &c. we have all liv'd in a perpetual Turnbull-street.” Again, in The Knight of the Burning Pestle: “&lblank; this my lady dear, “I stole her from her friends in Turnbull-street.” Turnbull or Turnmill Street is near Cow-cross, West Smithfield. The continuator of Stowe's Annals informs us that West Smithfield, (at present the horse-market) was formerly called Ruffian's Hall, where turbulent fellows met to try their skill at sword and buckler. Steevens.

Note return to page 963 1&lblank; were invisible:] The folio and quarto read, by an apparent error of the press, invincible. Mr. Rowe first made the necessary alteration. Steevens.

Note return to page 964 2&lblank; call'd him mandrake:] This appellation will be somewhat illustrated by the following passage in Caltha Poetarum, or the Bumble Bee, composed by T. Cutwode, Esqyre, 1599. This book was commanded by the archbishop of Canterbury and the bishop of London to be burnt at Stationers' Hall in the 41st year of queen Elizabeth. “Upon the place and ground where Caltha grew,   “A mightie mandrag there did Venus plant; “An object for faire Primula to view,   “Resembling man from thighs unto the shank,” &c. The rest of the description might prove yet farther explanatory; but on some subjects silence is less reprehensible than information. Steevens.

Note return to page 965 3&lblank; over-scutcht &lblank;] That is whipt, carted. Pope. I rather think that the word means dirty or grimed. The word huswives agrees better with this sense. Shallow crept into mean houses, and boasted his accomplishments to dirty women. Johnson. Ray, among his north country words, says, that an over-switch'd huswife is a strumpet. Over-scutch'd has undoubtedly the meaning which Mr. Pope has affixed to it. Over-scutch'd is the same as over-scotch'd. A scutch or scotch is a cut or lash with a rod or whip. Steevens.

Note return to page 966 4&lblank; fancies or his goodnights.] Fancies and Goodnights were the titles of little poems. One of Gascoigne's Goodnights is published among his Flowers. Steevens.

Note return to page 967 5And now is this vice's dagger &lblank;] By vice here the poet means that droll character in the old plays (which I have several times mentioned in the course of these notes) equipped with asses ears and a wooden dagger. It was very satirical in Falstaff to compare Shallow's activity and impertinence to such a machine as a wooden dagger in the hands and management of a buffoon. Theobald. “Vice's dagger,” and “Like the old vice,” This was the name given to a droll figure, heretofore much shown upon our stage, and brought in to play the fool and make sport for the populace. His dress was always a long jerkin, a fool's cap with ass's ears, and a think wooden dagger, such as is still retained in the modern figures of harlequin and scaramouch. Minshew, and others of our more modern critics, strain hard to find out the etymology of the word, and fetch it from the Greek: probably we need look no farther for it than the old French word Vis, which signified the same as Visage does now: from this in part came Visdase, a word common among them for a fool, which Menage says is but a corruption from Vis d'asne, the face or head of an ass. It may be imagined therefore that Visdase, or Vis d'asne was the name first given to this foolish theatrical figure, and that by vulgar use it was shortened down to plain Vis or Vice. [VICE. A person in our old plays. The word is an abbreviation of Device; for in our old dramatic shows, where he was first exhibited, he was nothing more than an artificial figure, a puppet moved by machinery, and then originally called a Device, or 'Vice. In these representations he was a constant and the most popular character, afterwards adopted into the early comedy. The smith's machine called a Vice, is an abbreviation of the same sort.— Hamlet calls his uncle “a vice of kings,” a fantastic and factitious image of majesty, a mere puppet of royalty. See Jonson's Alchymist, act I. sc. iii: “And on your stall a puppet with a vice.” Warton.

Note return to page 968 6&lblank; he burst his head, &lblank;] Thus the folio and quarto. The modern editors read broke. To break and to burst were, in our poet's time, synonimously used. Thus B. Jonson, in his Poetaster, translates the following passage in Horace: “&lblank; fracta pereuntes cuspide Gallos.” “The lances burst in Gallia's slaughter'd forces.” So, in The Old Legend of Sir Bevis of Hampton: “But syr Bevis so hard him thrust, that his shoulder-bone he burst.” Again, in the second part of Tamburlaine, 1590: “Whose chariot wheels have burst th' Assyrian's bones.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 809: “&lblank; that manie a speare was burst, and manie a great stripe given.” To brast had the same meaning. Barrett, in his Alvearie or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, calls a house-breaker, “a breaker and braster of doors.” The same author constantly uses burst as synonimous to broken. Steevens.

Note return to page 969 7&lblank; beat his own name:] That is, beat gaunt, a fellow so slender, that his name might have been gaunt. Johnson.

Note return to page 970 8&lblank; philosopher's two stones &lblank;] One of which was an universal medicine, and the other a transmuter of base metals into gold. Warburton. I believe the commentator has refined this passage too much. A philosopher's two stones is only more than the philosopher's stone. The universal medicine was never, so far as I know, conceived to be a stone before the time of Butler's stone. Johnson. Mr. Edwards ridicules Dr. Warburton's note on this passage, but without reason. Gower has a chapter in his Confessio Amantis, “Of the three stones that philosophres made:” and Chaucer, in his tale of the Chanon's Yeman, expressly tells us, that one of them is Alixar cleped; and that it is a water made of the four elements. Face, in the Alchymist, assures us, it is “a stone, and not a stone.” Farmer. That the ingredients of which this Elixir, or Universal Medicine, was composed, were by no means difficult of acquisition, may be proved by the following conclusion of a letter written by Villers Duke of Buckingham to King James I. on the subject of the Philosopher's Stone. See the second volume of Royal Letters in the British Museum, No. 6987, Art. 101. “&lblank; I confess, so longe as he conseled the meanes he wrought by, I dispised all he said: but when he tould me, that which he hath given your soverainship to preserve you from all sicknes ever hereafter, was extracted out of a t&wblank;d, I admired the fellow; and for theis reasons: that being a stranger to you, yett he had found out the kind you are come of, and your natural affections and apetis; and so, like a skillful man, hath given you natural fisicke, which is the onlie meanes to preserve the radicall hmrs: and thus I conclude: My sow is healthfull, my divill's luckie, myself is happie, and needs no more than your blessing, which is my trew Felosophers stone, upon which I build as upon a rocke: Your Majesties most humble slave & doge Stinie.” The following passage in the dedication of The Metamorphosis of Pigmalion's Image and certaine Satyres, 1598, may prove that the Elixir was supposed to be a stone before the time of Butler: “Or like that rare and rich Elixar stone, “Can turne to gold leaden invention.” Steevens.

Note return to page 971 9If the young dace &lblank;] That is, if the pike may prey upon the dace, if it be the law of nature that the stronger may seize upon the weaker, Falstaff may, with great propriety, devour Shallow. Johnson.

Note return to page 972 1'Tis Gualtree forest,] “The earle of Westmoreland, &c. made forward against the rebels, and coming into a plaine, within Galtree forest, caused their standards to be pitched down in like sort as the archbishop had pitched his, over against them.” Hollinshed, page 529. Steevens.

Note return to page 973 2Let us sway on, &lblank;] We should read, way on; i. e. march on. Warburton. I know not that I have ever seen sway in this sense; but I believe it is the true word, and was intended to express the uniform and forcible motion of a compact body. There is a sense of the noun in Milton kindred to this, where, speaking of a weighty sword, he says, “It descends with huge two-handed sway.” Johnson. The word is used in Holinshed, English Hist. p. 986. “The left side of the enemy was compelled to sway a good way back and give ground, &c.” Again, in K. Henry VI. Part 3. act II. sc. v: “Now sways it this way, like a mightie sea “Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind; “Now sways it that way, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 974 3&lblank; well-appointed leader &lblank;] Well-appointed is completely accoutred. So in the Miseries of Queen Margaret, by Drayton: “Ten thousand valiant, well-appointed men.” Again, in The Ordinary by Cartwright: “&lblank; Naked piety “Dares more, than fury well-appointed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 975 4Led on by bloody youth, &lblank;] I believe Shakespeare wrote beady youth. Warburton. Bloody youth is only sanguine youth, or youth full of blood, and of those passions which blood is supposed to incite or nourish. Johnson.

Note return to page 976 5&lblank; guarded with rage, &lblank;] Guarded is an expression taken from dress, it means the same as faced, turned up. Mr. Pope, who has been followed by succeeding editors, reads goaded. Guarded is the reading both of quarto and folio. Shakespeare uses the same expression in the former part of this play: “Velvet guards and Sunday citizens,” &c. Again, in The Merchant of Venice: “Let him have a livery more guarded than his fellows.” Steevens.

Note return to page 977 6Whose white investments figure innocence, &lblank;] Formerly, (says Dr. Hody, Hist. of Convocations, p. 141.) all bishops wore white even when they travelled. Gray. By comparing this passage with another in p. 91, of Dr. Gray's notes, we learn that the white investment meant the episcopal rochet; and this should be worn by the theatric archbishop. Tollet.

Note return to page 978 7&lblank; graves, &lblank;] For graves Dr. Warburton very plausibly reads glaives, and is followed by sir Thomas Hanmer. Johnson. We might perhaps as plausibly read greaves, i. e. armour for the legs, a kind of boots. In one of the Discourses on the Art Military, written by sir John Smythe, Knight, 1589, greaves are mentioned as necessary to be worn; and Ben Jonson employs the same word in his Hymenæi: “&lblank; upon their legs they wore silver greaves.” Again, in the Four Prentices of London, 1632: “Arm'd with their greaves and maces.” Again, in the 2nd canto of the Barons' Wars by Drayton: “Marching in greaves, a helmet on her head.” Warner, in his Albions England, 1602, b. 12. ch. 69. spells the word as it is found in the old copies of Shakespeare: “The taishes, cushies, and the graves, staff, pensell, baises, all.” I know not whether it be worth adding, that the metamorphosis of leathern covers of books into greaves, i. e. boots, seems to be more apposite than the conversion of them into instruments of war of the following shape and dimensions. The wooden cut exhibits two sorts of glaives, such as were used by our forefathers. Glave is the Erse word for a broad-sword, and glaif is Welsh for a hook. Steevens.

Note return to page 979 8Wherefore, &c.] In this speech, after the first two lines, the next twenty-five are either omitted in the first edition, or added in the second. The answer, in which both the editions agree, apparently refers to some of these lines, which therefore may be probably supposed rather to have been dropped by a player desirous to shorten his speech, than added by the second labour of the author. Johnson.

Note return to page 980 9In former editions: And are enforc'd from our most quiet there,] This is said in answer to Westmoreland's upbraiding the archbishop for engaging in a course which so ill became his profession: &lblank; you, my lord archbishop, Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd, &c. So that the reply must be this: And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere. Warburton.

Note return to page 981 1We are deny'd access &lblank;] The archbishop says in Holinshed: “Where he and his companie were in armes, it was for feare of the king, to whom he could have no free accesse, by reason of such a multitude of flatterers, as were about him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 982 2Not to break peace, &lblank;] “He took nothing in hand against the king's peace, but that whatsoever he did, tended rather to advance the peace and quiet of the commonwealth.” Archbishop's speech in Holinshed. Steevens.

Note return to page 983 3And consecrate, &c.] In one of my old quartos of 1600 (for I have two of the self-same edition; one of which, it is evident, was corrected in some passages during the working off the whole impression) I found this verse. I have ventured to substitute page for edge, with regard to the uniformity of metaphor. Though the sword of rebellion, drawn by a bishop, may in some sort be said to be consecrated by his reverence. Theobald. And consecrate commotion's civil edge?] So the old books read. But Mr. Theobald changes edge to page, out of regard to the uniformity (as he calls it) of the metaphor. But he did not understand what was meant by edge. It was an old custom, continued from the time of the first croisades, for the pope to consecrate the general's sword, which was employed in the service of the church. To this custom the line in question alludes. As to the cant of uniformity of metaphor in writing, this is to be observed, that changing the allusion in the same sentence is indeed vicious, and what Quintilian condemns: “Multi quum initium à tempestate sumserint, incendio aut ruinâ finiunt.” But when one comparison or allusion is fairly separated from another, by distinct sentences, the case is different. So it is here; in one sentence we see “the book of rebellion stampt with a seal divine;” in the other, “the sword of civil discord consecrated.” But this change of the metaphor is not only allowable, but fit. For the dwelling overlong upon one, occasions the discourse to degenerate into a dull kind of allegorism. Warburton. What Mr. Theobald says of two editions seems to be true; for my copy reads, commotion's bitter edge; but civil is undoubtedly right; and one would wonder how bitter could intrude if civil had been written first; perhaps the author himself made the change. Johnson. Since I began to print this play, I have seen both the copies, but they both concur in reading bitter. Unless there be a third copy, Theobald has said what is not true. Steevens.

Note return to page 984 4My brother general, &c. &lblank; I make my quarrel in particular.] The sense is this: “My brother general, the commonwealth, which ought to distribute its benefits equally, is become an enemy to those of his own house, to brothers born, by giving some all, and others none; and this (says he) I make my quarrel or grievance that honours are unequally distributed;” the constant birth of male-contents, and source of civil commotions. Warburton. In the first folio the second line is omitted, yet that reading, unintelligible as it is, has been followed by sir T. Hanmer. How difficulty sense can be drawn from the best reading the explication of Dr. Warburton may show. I believe there is an error in the first line, which perhaps may be rectified thus: My quarrel general, the common-wealth, To brother born an household cruelty, I make my quarrel in particular. That is, my general cause of discontent is public mismanagement; my particular cause a domestic injury done to my natural brother, who had been beheaded by the king's order. Johnson. This circumstance is mentioned in the 1st part of the play: “The archbishop—who bears hard “His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop.” Steevens.

Note return to page 985 5Construe the times to their necessities,] That is, Judge of what is done in these times according to the exigencies that over-rule us. Johnson.

Note return to page 986 6Either from the king, &c.] Whether the faults of government be imputed to the time or the king, it appears not that you have, for your part, been injured either by the king or the time. Johnson.

Note return to page 987 7Their armed staves in charge, &c.] An armed staff is a lance. To be in charge, is to be fixed in the rest for the encounter. Johnson.

Note return to page 988 8&lblank; sights of steel, &lblank;] i. e. the perforated part of their helmets, through which they could see to direct their aim. Visiere, Fr. Steevens.

Note return to page 989 9And bless'd and grac'd more than the king himself.] The two oldest folios, (which first gave us this speech of Westmoreland) read this line thus: And bless'd and grac'd and did more than the king. Dr. Thirlby reformed the text very near to the traces of the corrupted reading. Theobald.

Note return to page 990 1That is intended in the general's name:] That is, This power is included in the name or office of a general. We wonder that you can ask a question so trifling. Johnson. The word intended is used very licentiously by old writers. Thus, in Hinde's Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel, 1606: “For princes are great marks upon whom many eyes are intended.” Steevens.

Note return to page 991 2&lblank; substantial form;] That is, by a pardon of due form and legal validity. Johnson.

Note return to page 992 3To us, and to our purposes, confin'd;] This schedule we see consists of three parts: 1. A redress of general grievances. 2. A pardon for those in arms. 3. Some demands of advantage for them. But this third part is very strangely expressed. And present execution of our wills To us, and to our purposes, confin'd. The first line shews they had something to demand, and the second expresses the modesty of that demand. The demand, says the speaker, is confined to us and to our purposes. A very modest kind of restriction truly! only as extensive as their appetites and passions. Without question Shakespeare wrote, To us and to our properties confin'd; i. e. we desire no more than security for our liberties and properties: and this was no unreasonable demand. Warburton. This passage is so obscure that I know not what to make of it. Nothing better occurs to me than to read consign'd for confin'd. That is, let the execution of our demands be put into our hands according to our declared purposes. Johnson. I believe we should read confirm'd. This would obviate every difficulty. Steevens. I believe two lines are out of place. I read: This contains our general grievances, And present executions of our wills; To us and to our purposes confin'd. Farmer.

Note return to page 993 4We come within our awful banks again,] Awful banks are the proper limits of reverence. Johnson. So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “From the society of awful men.” We might read—lawful. Steevens.

Note return to page 994 5In sight of both our battles we may meet:] The old copies read, &lblank; we may meet At either end in peace; which heaven so frame! That easy but certain change in the text, I owe to Dr. Thirlby. Theobald.

Note return to page 995 6&lblank; insist upon, &lblank;] The old copies read—consist. Steevens.

Note return to page 996 7That were our loyal faiths, &c.] In former editions: That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love. If royal faith can mean faith to a king, it yet cannot mean it without much violence done to the language. I therefore read, with sir Thomas Hanmer, loyal faiths, which is proper, natural, and suitable to the intention of the speaker. Johnson.

Note return to page 997 8Of dainty and such picking grievances:] I cannot but think that this line is corrupted, and that we should read, Of picking out such dainty grievances. Johnson. Picking means piddling, insignificant. Steevens.

Note return to page 998 9&lblank; wipe his tables clean;] Alluding to a table-book of slate, ivory, &c. Warburton.

Note return to page 999 1&lblank; an iron man,] Holinshed says of the archbishop, that “coming foorth amongst them clad in armour, he incouraged and pricked them foorth to take the enterprise in hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1000 2Turning the word to sword, &c.] A similar thought occurs in the prologue to Gower's Confessio Amantis, 1554: “Into the sworde the churche kaye “Is turned, and the holy bede, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1001 3&lblank; the sanctities of heaven,] This expression Milton has copied: “Around him all the sanctities of heaven “Stood thick as stars.” Johnson.

Note return to page 1002 4You have taken up,] To take up is to levy, to raise in arms. Johnson.

Note return to page 1003 5&lblank; in common sense,] I believe Shakespeare wrote common fence, i. e. drove by self-defence. Warburton. Common sense is the general sense of general danger. Johnson.

Note return to page 1004 6And so, success of mischief &lblank;] Success for succession. Warburton.

Note return to page 1005 7Discharge your powers &lblank;] It was Westmoreland who made this deceitful proposal, as appears from Holinshed. “The earl of Westmorland using more policie than the rest, said, whereas our people have been long in armour, let them depart home to their woonted trades: in the meane time let us drink togither in signe of agreement, that the people on both sides may see it, and know that it is true, that we be light at a point.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1006 8Against ill chances men are ever merry;] Thus the poet describes Romeo as feeling an unaccustom'd degree of chearfulness just before he hears the news of the death of Juliet. Steevens.

Note return to page 1007 9Therefore be merry, coz; &lblank;] That is, Therefore, notwithstanding this sudden impulse to heaviness, be merry, for such sudden dejections forebode good. Johnson.

Note return to page 1008 1&lblank; let our trains &c.] That is, Our army on each part, that we may both see those that were to have opposed us. Johnson.

Note return to page 1009 2Fondly brought here, &c.] Fondly is foolishly. So, in lord Surrey's translation of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “What wight so fond such offer to refuse?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1010 3Exeunt.] It cannot but raise some indignation to find this horrible violation of faith passed over thus slightly by the poet, without any note of censure or detestation. Johnson.

Note return to page 1011 4Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is Colevile of the Dale. Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a knight is your degree, and your place, the Dale. Colevile shall still be your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a place deep enough. So shall you still be Colevile of the Dale. But where is the wit, or the logic of this conclusion? I am almost persuaded that we ought to read thus: &lblank; Colevile shall still be your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a dale deep enough. &lblank; He may then justly infer, So shall you still be Colevile of the Dale. Tyrwhitt. The sense of dale is included in deep; a dale is a deep place; a dungeon is a deep place: he that is in a dungeon may be therefore said to be in a dale. Johnson.

Note return to page 1012 5&lblank; Colevile of the dale.] “At the king's coming to Durham, the lord Hastings, Sir John Colevile of the Dale, &c. being convicted of the conspiracy, were there beheaded.” Holinshed, p. 530. Steevens.

Note return to page 1013 6The heat is past, &lblank;] That is, the violence of resentment, the eagerness of revenge. Johnson.

Note return to page 1014 7&lblank; the hook-nos'd fellow of Rome,—] The quarto reads, “the hook-nos'd fellow of Rome, their cosin.” I have followed the folio. The modern editors read, but without authority, “the hook-nos'd fellow of Rome there, Cæsar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1015 8&lblank; stand my good lord 'pray, in your good report.] We must either read, pray let me stand, or, by a construction somewhat harsh, understand it thus: Give me leave to go &lblank; and &lblank; stand. To stand in a report, referred to the reporter, is to persist; and Falstaff did not ask the prince to persist in his present opinion. Johnson. Stand my good lord, I believe, means only stand my good friend, (an expression still in common use) in your favourable report of me. So, in the Taming of a Shrew: “I pray you stand good father to me now.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1016 9&lblank; I, in my condition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve.] I know not well the meaning of the word condition in this place; I believe it is the same with temper of mind: I shall, in my good nature, speak better of you than you merit. Johnson. I believe it means, I, in my condition, i. e. in my place as a commanding officer, who ought to represent things merely as they are, shall speak of you better than you deserve. So, in the Tempest, Ferdinand says: “&lblank; I am, in my condition, “A prince, Miranda &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1017 1&lblank; this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh; &lblank;] Falstaff speaks here like a veteran in life. The young prince did not love him, and he despaired to gain his affection, for he could not make him laugh. Men only become friends by community of pleasures. He who cannot be softened into gaiety, cannot easily be melted into kindness. Johnson.

Note return to page 1018 2&lblank; sherris-sack &lblank;] This liquor is mentioned in The Captain, by B. and Fletcher. Steevens.

Note return to page 1019 3&lblank; It ascends me into the brain, and dries me up there &lblank; the crudy vapours &lblank;] This use of the pronoun is a familiar redundancy among our old writers. So, Latimer, p. 91, “Here cometh me now these holy fathers from their counsels.” “There was one wiser than the rest, and he comes me to the bishop.” Edit. 1571. p. 75. Bowle.

Note return to page 1020 4&lblank; apprehensive,] i. e. Quick to understand. So, in the Revenger's Tragedy, 1608: “Thou'rt a mad apprehensive knave.” Again, in Every man out of his Humour:—“You are too quick, too apprehensive.” In this sense it is now almost disused. Steevens.

Note return to page 1021 5&lblank; forgetive, &lblank;] Forgetive from forge; inventive, imaginative. Johnson.

Note return to page 1022 6&lblank; kept by a devil, &lblank;] It was anciently supposed that all the mines of gold, &c. were guarded by evil spirits. Steevens.

Note return to page 1023 7&lblank; till sack commences it, &lblank;] I believe, till sack gives it a beginning, brings it into action. The author of The Revisal would read—commerces it. Steevens. It seems probable to me, that Shakespeare in these words alludes to the Cambridge Commencement; and in what follows to the Oxford Act: for by those different names our two universities have long distinguished the season, at which each of them gives to her respective students a complete authority to use those hoards of learning, which have entitled them to their several degrees in arts, law, physic, and divinity. Tyrwhitt.9Q0753

Note return to page 1024 8&lblank; I have him already tempering &c.] A very pleasant allusion to the old use of sealing with soft wax. Warburton. This custom is likewise alluded to in Any Thing for a quiet Life, 1625, a comedy, by Middleton: “You must temper him like wax, or he'll not seal.” Again, in Your Five Gallants by Middleton, no date: “Fetch a pennyworth of soft wax to seal letters.” Again, in Chaucer's Marchante's Tale, v. 9304: “Right as men may warm wax with handes plie. Steevens.

Note return to page 1025 9Our navy is address'd, &lblank;] i. e. Our navy is ready, prepared. So in Henry V. “&lblank; for our march we are address'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1026 1&lblank; humourous as winter, &lblank;] That is, changeable as the weather of a winter's day. Dryden says of Almanzor, that he is humourous as wind. Johnson. So, in the Spanish Tragedy, 1607: “You know that women oft are humourous.” Again, in Cynthia's Revels, by Ben Jonson: “&lblank; A nymph of a most wandering and giddy disposition, humourous as the air, &c.” Again, in the Silent Woman: “&lblank; as proud as May, and as humourous as April.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1027 2&lblank; congealed in the spring of day.] Alluding to the opinion of some philosophers, that the vapours being congealed in the air by cold, (which is most intense towards the morning) and being afterwards rarified and let loose by the warmth of the sun, occasion those sudden and impetuous gusts of wind which are called flaws. Warburton. So, Ben Jonson, in The Case is alter'd, 1609: “Still wrack'd with winds more foul and contrary “Than any northern gust, or southern flaw.” Again, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “And saw a dreadful southern flaw at hand.” Chapman uses the word in his translation of Homer; and, I believe, Milton has it in the same sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 1028 3as aconitum, &lblank;] The old writers employ the Latin word instead of the English one, which we now use. So, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “&lblank; till from the foam “The dog belch'd forth, strong aconitum sprung.” Again, “With aconitum that in tartar springs.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1029 4&lblank; rash gun-powder.] Rash is quick, violent, sudden. This representation of the prince is a natural picture of a young man whose passions are yet too strong for his virtues. Johnson.

Note return to page 1030 5&lblank; his affections &lblank;] His passions; his inordinate desires. Johnson.

Note return to page 1031 6But to be known and hated.] A parallel passage occurs in Terence: “&lblank; quo modo adolescentulus “Meretricum ingenia et mores posset noscere, “Mature ut cum cognorit perpetuo oderit.” Anonymous.

Note return to page 1032 7'Tis seldom, when the bee &c.] As the bee, having once placed her comb in a carcase, stays by her honey, so he that has once taken pleasure in bad company, will continue to associate with those that have the art of pleasing him. Johnson.

Note return to page 1033 8&lblank; in his particular.] We should read, I think, in this particular; that is, in this detail, in this account, which is minute and distinct. Johnson. His is used for its, very frequently in the old plays. The modern editors have too often made the change; but yet it should be remembered, that by repeated changes the history of a language will be lost. Steevens.

Note return to page 1034 9Hath wrought the mure, &lblank;] i. e. The wall. Pope. Wrought it thin, is made it thin by gradual detriment. Wrought is the preterite of work. Mure is a word used by Heywood in his Brazen Age, 1613: “'Till I have scal'd these mures, invaded Troy.” Again, in his Golden Age, 1611: “Girt with a triple mure of shining brass.” Again, in his Iron Age, 2nd Part, 1632: “Through mures and counter-mures of men and steel.” The same thought occurs in Daniel's Civil Wars, &c. b. 4. Daniel is likewise speaking of the sickness of K. Henry IV. “As that the walls worn thin, permit the mind “To look out thorow and his frailties find.” The first edition of Daniel's poem is dated earlier than this play of Shakespeare. Dryden [Correction: 1Kb]

Note return to page 1035 for Dryden, read, Waller.

Note return to page 1036 1The people fear me; &lblank;] i. e. Make me afraid; which sense the Oxford editor not taking, alters it to fear it. Warburton.

Note return to page 1037 2Unfather'd heirs, &lblank;] That is, equivocal births; animals that had no animal progenitors; productions not brought forth according to the stated laws of generation. Johnson.

Note return to page 1038 3The seasons change their manners; &lblank;] This is finely expressed; alluding to the terms of rough and harsh, mild and soft, applied to weather. Warburton.

Note return to page 1039 4The river hath thrice flow'd, &lblank;] This is historically true. It happened on the 12th of October, 1411. Steevens.

Note return to page 1040 5Unless some dull and favourable hand] Thus the old editions read it, evidently corrupt. Shakespeare seems to have wrote: Unless some doleing favourable hand &lblank; Doleing, i. e. A hand using soft melancholy airs. Warburton. I rather think that dull signifies melancholy, gentle, soothing. Doleing cannot be received without some example of its use, which the commentator has not given, and my memory will not supply. Johnson. Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit.] So, in the old anonymous Henry V. “&lblank; Depart my chamber, “And cause some music to rock me a sleep.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1041 6Set me the crown upon my pillow here.] It is still the custom in France to place the crown on the king's pillow when he is dying. Holinshed, p. 541, speaking of the death of king Henry IV. says:—“During this his last sicknesse, he caused his crowne, (as some write) to be set on a pillow at his bed's head, and suddenlie his pangs so sore troubled him, that he laie as though all his vitall spirits had beene from him departed. Such as were about him, thinking verelie that he had beene departed, covered his face with a linen cloth.” “The prince his sonne being hereof advertised, entered into the chamber, tooke awaie the crowne, and departed. The father being suddenlie revived out of that trance, quicklie perceived the lack of his crowne; and having knowledge that the prince his sonne had taken it awaie, caused him to come before his presence, requiring of him what he meant so to misuse himselfe. The prince with a good audacitie answered; Sir, to mine and all men's judgments you seemed dead in this world, and therefore I as your next heire apparant took that as mine owne, and not as yours. Well, faire sonne, (said the king with a great sigh) what right I had to it, God knoweth. Well (said the prince) if you die king, I will have the garland, and trust to keepe it with the sword against all mine enemies, as you have doone; &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1042 7&lblank; the ports of slumber] are the gates of slumber. So, in Timon: “&lblank; Our uncharged ports.” So, in Ben Jonson's 80th Epigram: “&lblank; The ports of death are sins &lblank;” Ports is the ancient military term for gates. Steevens.

Note return to page 1043 8&lblank; homely biggen bound, &lblank;] A kind of cap, at present worn only by children; but so called from the cap worn by the Beguines, an order of nuns. So, in Monsieur Thomas, by B. and Fletcher, 1639: “&lblank; were the devil sick now, “His horns saw'd off, and his head bound with a biggin.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Volpone: “Get you a biggin more, your brain breaks loose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1044 9&lblank; this golden rigol &lblank;] Rigol means a circle. I know not that it is used by any author but Shakespeare, who introduces it likewise in his Rape of Lucrece: “About the mourning and congealed face “Of that black blood, a watry rigol goes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1045 1&lblank; tolling from every flower] This speech has been contracted, dilated, and put to every critical torture, in order to force it within the bounds of metre, and prevent the admission of hemistichs. I have restored it without alteration, but with those breaks which appeared to others as imperfections. The reading of the quarto is tolling. The folio reads culling. Tolling is taking toll. Steevens.

Note return to page 1046 2Yield his engrossments &lblank;] His accumulations. Johnson.

Note return to page 1047 3&lblank; seal'd up my expectation:] Thou hast confirmed my opinion. Johnson.

Note return to page 1048 4&lblank; half an hour of my life.] It should be remembered that Shakespeare uses the same words alternately as monosyllables and dissyllables. Mr. Rowe, whose ear was accustomed to the utmost harmony of numbers, and who, at the same time, appears to have been little acquainted with our poet's manner, first added the word frail to supply the syllable which he conceived to be wanting. The quarto writes the word—hower, as it was anciently pronounced. So, Ben Jonson, in the Case is alter'd, 1609: “By twice so many howers as would fill “The circle of a year.” The reader will find many more instances in the soliloquy of K. Henry VI. P. 3. act II. sc. v. The other editors have followed Rowe. Steevens.

Note return to page 1049 5England shall double gild his treble guilt;] Evidently the nonsense of some foolish player: for we must make a difference between what Shakespeare might be supposed to have written off hand, and what he had corrected. These scenes are of the latter kind; therefore such lines are by no means to be esteemed his. But except Mr. Pope, (who judiciously threw out this line) not one of Shakespeare's editors seem ever to have had so reasonable and necessary a rule in their heads, when they set upon correcting this author. Warburton. I know not why this commentator should speak with so much confidence what he cannot know, or determine so positively what so capricious a writer as our poet might either deliberately or wantonly produce. This line is indeed such as disgraces a few that precede and follow it, but it suits well enough with the daggers hid in thought, and whetted on the flinty heart; and the answer which the prince makes, and which is applauded for wisdom, is not of a strain much higher than this ejected line. Johnson. How much this play on words was admired in the age of Shakespeare, appears from the most ancient writers of that time, who have frequently indulged themselves in it. So, in Marlow's Hero and Leander, 1637: “And as amidst the enamour'd waves he swims, “The god of gold a purpose guilt his limbs, “That, this word guilt including double sense, “The double guilt of his incontinence “Might be express'd.” Again, in Acolastus his Afterwit, a poem by S. Nicholson, 1600: “O sacred thirst of gold, what can'st thou not? &lblank; “Some term thee gilt, that every soule might reade “Even in thy name thy guilt is great indeede.” Malone.

Note return to page 1050 6&lblank; when riot is thy care?] i. e. Curator. A bold figure. So Eumæus is stiled by Ovid, Epist. i. “&lblank; immundæ cura fidelis haræ.” Tyrwhitt.9Q0756

Note return to page 1051 7Let me no more &c.] This is obscure in the construction, though the general meaning is clear enough. The order is, this obedience which is taught this exterior bending by my duteous spirit; or, this obedience which teaches this exterior bending to my inwardly duteous spirit. I know not which is right. Johnson.

Note return to page 1052 8&lblank; true &lblank;] Is loyal. Johnson.

Note return to page 1053 9&lblank; in med'cine potable:] There has long prevailed an opinion that a solution of gold has great medicinal virtues, and that the incorruptibility of gold might be communicated to the body impregnated with it. Some have pretended to make potable gold, among other frauds practised on credulity. Johnson. So, in the character of the Doctor of Physicke by Chaucer, late edit. v. 446: “For gold in phisike is a cordial.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1054 1&lblank; soil &lblank;] Is spot, dirt, turpitude, reproach. Johnson.

Note return to page 1055 2Wounding supposed peace:] Supposed for undermined. Warburton. Rather counterfeited, imagined, not real. Johnson.

Note return to page 1056 3&lblank; all these bold fears] We should certainly read: &lblank; all their bold feats, i. e. plots, commotions of conspirators. Warburton. There is no need of alteration. Fear is here used in the active sense, for that which causes fear. Johnson. These bold fears are these audacious terrors To fear is often used by Shakespeare for to fright. Steevens.

Note return to page 1057 4Changes the mode: &lblank;] Mode, here, does not signify fashion, but time and measure in singing, or the pitch in speaking: Modus, a word peculiar to the ancient drama: for the metaphor is continued from the words immediately preceding: &lblank; as a scene Acting that argument &lblank; Warburton. Mode is here, in its usual sense, the form or state of things. Nothing is more easy than to make obscurities and clear them. Johnson.

Note return to page 1058 5&lblank; successively.] By order of succession. Every usurper snatches a claim of hereditary right as soon as he can. Johnson.

Note return to page 1059 6And all thy friends, &lblank;] Should not we read?— And all my friends &lblank; Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 1060 7To lead out many to the Holy Land;] As plausible as this reading is, it is corrupt. Shakespeare, I think, wrote: To lead our many &lblank; our many or meiny, i. e. our people. Warburton. As plausible as this emendation is, I think it wrong. The sense is: Of those who assisted my usurpation, some I have cut off, and many I intended to lead abroad. This journey to the Holy Land, of which the king very frequently revives the mention, had two motives, religion and policy. He durst not wear the ill-gotten crown without expiation, but in the act of expiation he contrives to make his wickedness successful. Johnson.

Note return to page 1061 8How I came &c.] This is a true picture of a mind divided between heaven and earth. He prays for the prosperity of guilt while he deprecates its punishment. Johnson.

Note return to page 1062 9Laud be to God!—even there my life must end.] “At length he recovered his speech, and understanding and perceiving himselfe in a strange place, which he knew not, he willed to know if the chamber had anie particular name, whereunto answer was made, that it was called Jerusalem. Then said the king; Lauds be given to the father of heaven, for now I knowe that I shall die here in this chamber, according to the prophesie of me declared, that I should depart this life in Jerusalem.” Holinshed, p. 541. Steevens.

Note return to page 1063 1By cock and pye, &lblank;] This adjuration, which seems to have been very popular, is used in Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “By cock and pie and mousefoot;” as well as by Shakespeare in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Ophelia likewise says: “&lblank; By cock they are to blame.” Cock is only a corruption of the Sacred Name, as appears from many passages in the old interludes, Gammer Gurton's Needle, &c. viz. Cocks-bones, cocks-wounds, by cock's mother, and some others. The pie is a table or rule in the old Roman offices, shewing, in a technical way, how to find out the service which is to be read upon each day. What was called The Pie by the clergy before the Reformation, was called by the Greeks &grP;&gri;&grn;&gra;&grc;, or the index. Though the word &grP;&gri;&grn;&gra;&grc; signifies a plank in its original, yet in its metaphorical sense it signifies &grs;&gra;&grn;&grig;&grst; &gres;&grz;&grw;&grg;&grr;&gra;&grf;&grh;&grm;&grea;&grn;&grh;, a painted table or picture; and because indexes or tables of books were formed into square figures, resembling pictures or painters' tables, hung up in a frame, these likewise were called &grP;&gria;&grn;&gra;&grk;&gre;&grst;, or, being marked only with the first letter of the word, &grP;&gri;'s or Pies. All other derivations of the word are manifestly erroneous. In a second preface Concerning the Service of the Church, prefixed to the Common Prayer, this table is mentioned as follows: —“Moreover the number and hardness of the rules called the Pie, and the manifold changes,” &c. Ridley. Again, in Wily Beguiled: “Now by cock and pie you never spake a truer word in your life.” Cock's body, cock's passion, &c. occur in the old morality of Hycke Scorner. Again, in the Two angry Women of Abington, 1599: “Merry go sorry, cock and pie, my hearts.” In the Puritan Widow, 1605, there is a scholar of the name of Pye-board. A printing letter of a particular size, called the pica, was probably denominated from the pie, as the brevier, from the breviary, and the primer from the primer. Steevens.

Note return to page 1064 2I will not excuse you; &c.] The sterility of justice Shallow's wit is admirably described, in thus making him, by one of the finest strokes of nature, so often vary his phrase, to express one and the same thing, and that the commonest. Warburton.

Note return to page 1065 3William cook, bid him come hither.] It appears from this instance, as well as many others, that anciently the lower orders of people had no surnames, but in their stead were content to adopt the titles of their several professions. The cook of William Canynge, the royal merchant of Bristol, lies buried there under a flat stone, near the monument of his master, in the beautiful church of St. Mary Redcliffe. On this stone are represented the ensigns of his trade, a skimmer and a knife. His epitaph is as follows: Hic jacet willm5 coke quondam serviens willm1 canynges mercatoris villæ Bristoll; cujus animæ propitietur Deus. Lazarillo in the Woman Hater of B. and Fletcher, expresses a wish to have his tomb adorned in a like manner: “&lblank; for others' glorious shields, “Give me a voider; and above my hearse, “For a trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1066 4&lblank; those precepts cannot be serv'd: &lblank;] Precept is a justice's warrant. To the offices which Falstaff gives Davy in the following scene, may be added that of justice's clerk. Davy has almost as many employments as Scrub in The Stratagem. Johnson.

Note return to page 1067 5&lblank; A friend i'the court, &c.] So, in Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose, 5540: “Friendship is more than cattell, “For frende in courte aie better is, “Than peny is in purse, certis.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1068 6&lblank; bearded hermit's staves &lblank;] He had before called him the starved justice. His want of flesh is a standing jest. Johnson.

Note return to page 1069 7&lblank; master Shallow.] Shallow's folly seems to have been almost proverbial So, in Decker's Satiromastix, 1610: “&lblank; We must have false fires to amaze these spangle babies, these true heirs of master Justice Shallow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1070 8&lblank; two actions) &lblank;] There is something humourous in making a spendthrift compute time by the operation of an action for debt. Johnson.

Note return to page 1071 9&lblank; fellow that never had the ache &lblank;] That is, a young fellow, one whose disposition to merriment time and pain have not yet impaired. Johnson.

Note return to page 1072 1&lblank; impartial conduct &lblank;] Thus the quartos. The folio reads—imperial. Steevens.

Note return to page 1073 2A ragged and forestall'd remission.—] Ragged has no sense here. We should read: A rated and forestall'd remission. i. e. A remission that must be sought for, and bought with supplication. Warburton. Different minds have different perplexities. I am more puzzled with forestall'd than with ragged; for ragged, in our author's licentious diction, may easily signify beggarly, mean, base, ignominious; but forestall'd I know not how to apply to remission in any sense primitive or figurative. I should be glad of another word, but cannot find it. Perhaps by forestall'd remission, he may mean a pardon begged by a voluntary confession of offence, and anticipation of the charge. Johnson.

Note return to page 1074 3&lblank; not the Turkish court;] Not the court where the prince that mounts the throne puts his brothers to death. Johnson.

Note return to page 1075 4&lblank; Was this easy?] That is, Was this not grievous? Shakespeare has easy in this sense elsewhere. Johnson.

Note return to page 1076 5And struck me in my very seat of judgment;] I do not recollect that any of the editors of our author have thought this remarkable passage worthy of a note. The chief justice, in this play, was sir William Gascoigne, of whom the following memoir may be as acceptable as necessary. While at the bar, Henry of Bolingbroke had been his client; and upon the decease of John of Gaunt, by the above Henry, his heir, then in banishment, he was appointed his attorney, to sue in the court of Wards the livery of the estates descended to him. Richard II. revoked the letters patent for this purpose, and defeated the intent of them, and thereby furnished a ground for the invasion of his kingdom by the heir of Gaunt; who becoming afterwards Henry IV. appointed Gascoigne chief justice of the King's Bench in the first year of his reign. In that station Gascoigne acquired the character of a learned, an upright, a wise, and an intrepid judge. The story so frequently alluded to of his committing the prince for an insult on his person, and the court wherein he presided, is thus related by sir Thomas Elyot, in his book entitled the Governour: “The moste renomed prince king Henry the fyfte, late kynge of Englande, durynge the lyfe of his father, was noted to be fiers and of wanton courage: it hapned, that one of his seruantes, whom he well fauoured, was for felony by him committed, arrained at the kynges benche: whereof the prince being aduertised, and incensed by lyghte persones aboute him, in furious rage came hastily to the barre, where his seruant stode as a prisoner, and commaunded hym to be vngyued and set at libertie: wherat all men were abashed, reserued the chiefe Justice, who humbly exhorted the prince, to be contented, that his seruaunt mought be ordred, accordynge to the aunciente lawes of this realme: or if he wolde haue hym saued from the rigour of the lawes, that he shulde opteyne, if he moughte, of the kynge his father, his gratious pardon, wherby no lawe or iustyce shulde be derogate. With whiche answere the prince nothynge appeased, but rather more inflamed, endeuored him selfe to take away his seruant. The iuge considering the perillous example, and inconuenience that mought therby insue, with a valyant spirite and courage, commanded the prince vpon his alegeance, to leaue the prisoner, and depart his way. With which commandment the prince being set all in a fury, all chafed and in a terrible maner, came vp to the place of iugement, men thynking that he wold haue slayne the iuge, or haue done to hym some damage: but the iuge sittynge styll without mouing, declaring the maiestie of the kynges place of iugement, and with an assured and bolde countenaunce, had to the prince, these wordes followyng, ‘Syr, remembre your selfe, I kepe here the place of the kyng your soueraine lorde and father, to whom ye owe double obedience, wherfore eftesooones in his name, I charge you desyste of your wylfulnes and vnlaufull enterprise, & from hensforth giue good example to those, whyche hereafter shall be your propre subiectes. And nowe, for your contempte and disobedience, goo you to the prysone of the kynges benche, wherevnto I commytte you, and remayne ye there prisoner vntyll the pleasure of the kynge your father be further knowen.’ “With whiche wordes beinge abashed, and also wondrynge at the meruaylous grauitie of that worshypfulle justyce, the noble prince layinge his weapon aparte, doynge reuerence, departed, and wente to the kynges benche, as he was commanded. Whereat his seruauntes disdaynynge, came and shewed to the kynge all the hole affaire. Whereat he awhyles studyenge, after as a man all rauyshed with gladnesse, holdynge his eien and handes vp towarde heuen, abraided, saying with a loude voice, ‘O mercyfull God, howe moche am I, aboue all other men, bounde to your infinite goodnes, specially for that ye haue gyuen me a iuge, who feareth nat to minister iustyce, and also a sonne, who can suffre semblably, and obeye iustyce?’ And here it may be noted, that Shakespeare has deviated from history in bringing the chief justice and Henry V. together, for it is expressly said by Fuller, in his Worthies in Yorkshire, and that on the best authority, that Gascoigne died in the life-time of his father, viz. on the first day of November, 14 Henry IV. See Dugd. Origines Juridic. in the Chronica Series, fol. 54. 56. Neither is it to be presumed but that this laboured defence of his conduct is a fiction of the poet: and it may justly be inferred from the character of this very able lawyer, whose name frequently occurs in the year-book of his time, that, having had spirit and resolution to vindicate the authority of the law, in the punishment of the prince, he disdained a formal apology for an act that is recorded to his honour. Sir J. Hawkins. In the foregoing account of this transaction, there is no mention of the prince's having struck Gascoigne, the chief justice.—Speed, however, who quotes Elyot, says, on I know not what authority, that the prince gave the judge a blow on the face. Malone.

Note return to page 1077 6To trip the course of law, &lblank;] To defeat the process of justice; a metaphor taken from the act of tripping a runner. Johnson.

Note return to page 1078 7To mock your workings in a second body.] To treat with contempt your acts executed by a representative. Johnson.

Note return to page 1079 8&lblank; and propose a son:] i. e. Image to yourself a son, contrive for a moment to think you have one. So in Titus Andronicus: “&lblank; a thousand deaths I could propose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1080 9&lblank; so silencing your son:—] The old copies read: &lblank; soft silencing your son. Steevens.

Note return to page 1081 1&lblank; in your state,] In your regal character and office, not with the passion of a man interested, but with the impartiality of a legislator. Johnson.

Note return to page 1082 2&lblank; You did commit me: &c.] So in the play on this subject, antecedent to that of Shakespeare: “You sent me to the Fleet; and, for revengement, “I have chosen you to be the protector “Over my realm.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1083 3&lblank; remembrance,—] That is, admonition. Johnson.

Note return to page 1084 4My father is gone wild &lblank;] Mr. Pope, by substituting wail'd for wild, without sufficient consideration, afforded Mr. Theobald much matter of ostentatious triumph. Johnson. The meaning seems to be—My wild dispositions having ceased on my father's death, and being now as it were buried in his tomb, he and wildness are interred in the same grave. A passage in K. Henry V. act I. sc. i. very strongly confirms the reading of the text: “The courses of his youth promis'd it not: “The breath no sooner left his father's body, “But that his wildness, mortified in him, “Seem'd to die too.” So, in K. Henry VIII: “And when old time shall lead him to his end, “Goodness and he fill up one monument.” A kindred thought is found in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “And so suppose am I; for in his grave “Assure thyself my love is buried.” Malone.

Note return to page 1085 5&lblank; sadly I survive,] Sadly is the same as soberly, seriously, gravely. Sad is opposed to wild. Johnson.

Note return to page 1086 6&lblank; the state of floods,] i. e. The assembly, or general meeting of the floods: for all rivers, running to the sea, are there represented as holding their sessions. This thought naturally introduced the following: Now call we our high court of parliament. But the Oxford Editor, much a stranger to the phraseology of that time in general, and to his author's in particular, out of mere loss for his meaning, reads it backwards, the floods of state. Warburton.

Note return to page 1087 1&lblank; a dish of carraways, &c.] A comfit or confection so called in our author's time. A passage in De Vigneul Marville's Melanges d'Histoire et de Litt. will explain this odd treat: “Dans le dernier siecle ou l'on avoit le goût delicat, on ne croioit pas pouvoir vivre sans Dragées. Il n'etoit fils de bonne mere, qui n'eut son Dragier; et il est raporté dans l'histoire du duc de Guise, que quand il fut tué à Blois il avoit son Dragier à la main.” Warburton. Mr. Edwards has diverted himself with this note of Dr. Warburton's, but without producing a happy illustration of the passage. The dish of carraways here mentioned was a dish of apples of that name. Goldsmith. Whether Dr. Warburton, Mr. Edwards, or Dr. Goldsmith is in the right, I cannot determine, for the following passage in Decker's Satiromastix leaves the question undecided: “By this handful of carraways I could never abide to say grace.” “&lblank; by these comfits we'll let all slide.” “By these comfits and these carraways; I warrant it does him good to swear”— “&lblank; I am glad, lady Petula, by this apple, that they please you.” That apples, comfits, and carraways, at least were distinct things, may be inferred from the following passage in the old bl. l. interlude of the Disobedient Child, no date: “What running had I for apples and nuttes, “What callying for biskettes, cumfettes, and carowaies.” In How to chuse a Good Wife from a Bad, 1630: “For apples, carrawaies, and cheese.” There is a pear, however, called a carraway, which may be corrupted from caillouel, Fr. So in the French Roman de la rose: “Ou la poire de caillouel.” Chaucer, in his version of this passage, says: “With caleweis” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1088 2By the mass, &lblank;] “In elder's time, as ancient custom was, “Men swore in weighty causes by the masse; “But when the masse went down (as others note) “Their oathes were, by the crosse of this same groat, &c.” Springes for Woodcocks, a collection of epigrams, 1606, Ep. 221. Steevens.

Note return to page 1089 3This very natural character of justice Silence is not sufficiently observed. He would scarcely speak a word before, and now there is no possibility of stopping his mouth. He has a catch for every occasion: When flesh is cheap, and females dear. Here the double sense of the word dear must be remembered.— Ever among is used by Chaucer in the Romant of the Rose: “Ever among (sothly to saine) “I suffre note and mochil paine.” Farmer.

Note return to page 1090 4&lblank; proface &lblank;] Italian from profaccia; that is, much good may it do you. Hanmer. Sir Thomas Hanmer (says Dr. Farmer) is right, yet it is no argument for his author's Italian knowledge. Old Heywood, the epigrammatist, addressed his readers long before: “Readers, reade this thus; for preface, proface, “Much good may it do you,” &c. So, Taylor, the water-poet, in the title of a poem prefixed to his Praise of Hempseed: “A preamble, preatrot, preagallop, preapace, or preface; and proface, my masters, if your stomachs serve.” Decker, in his comedy, If this be not a good play the Devil is in it, makes Shackle-soule, in the character of Friar Rush, tempt his brethren “with choice of dishes:” “To which proface; with blythe lookes sit yee.” I am still much in doubt whether there be such an Italian word as profaccia. Baretti has it not, and it is more probable that we received it from the French; proface being a colloquial abbreviation of the phrase.—Bon prou leur face, i. e. Much good may it do them. See Cotgrave, in voce Prou. To these instances produced by Dr. Farmer, I may add one more from Springes for Woodcocks, a collection of epigrams, 1606, Ep. 110: “Proface, quoth Fulvius, fill us t'other quart.” And another from Heywood's Epigrams: “I came to be merry, wherewith merrily “Proface. Have among you,” &c. Again, in The wise Woman of Hogsdon, 1638: “The dinner's half done, and before I say grace “And bid the old knight and his guest proface.” Again, in The Downfal of Robert E. of Huntingdon, 1601: “&lblank; Father, proface; “To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.” Again, from How to chuse a Good Wife from a Bad one, 1630: “&lblank; Gloria Deo, Sirs proface, “Attend me now while I say grace.” Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 538: “&lblank; the cardinall came in booted and spurred, all sodainly amongst them, and bade them proface.” Steevens. So, in Nashe's Apologie for Pierce Penniless, 1593: “A preface to courteous minds—as much as to say proface, much good may do it you! would it were better for you!” Malone.9Q0759

Note return to page 1091 5&lblank; the heart's all.] That is, the intention with which the entertainment is given. The humour consists in making Davy act as master of the house. Johnson.

Note return to page 1092 6'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,] Mr. Warton, in his Hist. of English Poetry, observes, that this rhime is found in a poem by Adam Davie, called the Life of Alexander: “Merry swithe it is in halle “When the berdes waveth alle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1093 7Fill the cup, &c.] This passage has hitherto been printed as prose, but I am told that it makes a part of an old song, and have therefore restored it to its metrical form. Steevens.

Note return to page 1094 8&lblank; cavaleroes] This was the term by which an airy, splendid, irregular fellow was distinguished. The soldiers of king Charles were called Cavaliers from the gaiety which they affected in opposition to the four faction of the parliament. Johnson.

Note return to page 1095 9Do me right, &c.] To do a man right and to do him reason, were formerly the usual expressions in pledging healths. He who drank a bumper, expected a bumper should be drank to his toast. So, in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman, Captain Otter says in the drinking scene: “Ha' you done me right, gentleman?” Again, in The Bondman by Massinger: “These glasses contain nothing;—do me right, “As e'er you hope for liberty.” Again, in Glapthorne's comedy of The Hollander: “A health, musicians, gentlemen all, &c. “I have done you right.” Steevens. So, in the Widow's Tears by Chapman, 1612: “Ero. I'll pledge you at twice. “Lys. 'Tis well done. Do me right.” It was the custom of the good fellows in Shakespeare's days to drink a very large draught of wine, and sometimes a less palatable potation, on their knees, to the health of their mistress. He who performed this exploit was dubb'd a knight for the evening. So, in the Yorkshire Tragedy, 1608: “They call it knighting in London, when they drink upon their knees.—Come follow me; I'll give you all the degrees of it in order.” Malone.

Note return to page 1096 1&lblank; Samingo.—] He means to say, San Domingo. Hanmer. Of Samingo, or San Domingo, I see not the use in this place. Johnson. Unless Silence calls Falstaff St. Dominic from his fatness, and means, like Dryden, to sneer at sacerdotal luxury, I can give no account of the word. In one of Nash's plays, entitled, Summer's last Will and Testament, 1600, Bacchus sings the following catch: “Monsieur Mingo, for quaffing doth surpass “In cup, in can, or glass; “God Bacchus do me right “And dub me knight. “Domingo.” Domingo is only the burden of the song. Again, in The letting of Humours Blood in the Head-vaine: with a new Morisco, daunced by seaven Satyres, upon the bottome of Diogenes Tubbe,” 1600. Epigram I. “Monsieur Domingo is a skilfull man,   “For muche experience he hath lately got, “Proving more phisicke in an alehouse can   “Than may be found in any vintner's pot; “Beere he protestes is sodden and refin'd, “And this he speakes, being single-penny-lind. “For when his purse is swolne but sixpence bigge,   “Why then he sweares:—Now by the Lord I thinke “All beere in Europe is not worth a figge;   “A cuppe of clarret is the only drinke. “And thus his praise from beer to wine doth goe, “Even as his purse in pence doth ebbe and flowe.” Steevens. Samingo, that is San Domingo, as some of the commentators have rightly observed. But what is the meaning and propriety of the name here, has not yet been shewn. Justice Silence is here introduced as in he midst of his cups: and I remember a black-letter ballad, in which either a San Domingo, or a signior Domingo, is celebrated for his miraculous feats in drinking. Silence, in the abundance of his festivity, touches upon some old song, in which this convivial saint or signior, was the burden. Perhaps too the pronunciation is here suited to the character. Warton. Of the gluttony and drunkenness of the Dominicans, one of their own order says thus in Weever's Funeral Monuments, p. cxxxi: “Sanctus Dominicus sit nobis semper amicus, cui canimus—siccatis ante lagenis—fratres qui non curant nisi ventres.” Hence Domingo might (as Mr. Steevens remarks) become the burthen of a drinking song. Tollet. In Marston's Antonio and Mellida, we meet with “Doe me right, and dub me knight, Balurdo.” Farmer.

Note return to page 1097 2&lblank; but goodman Puff of Barson.] A little before, William Visor of Woncot is mentioned. Woodmancot and Barton (says Mr. Edwards's MSS.) which I suppose are these two places, and are represented to be in the neighborhood of justice Shallow, are both of them in Berkeley hundred in Glostershire. This, I imagine, was done to disguise the satire a little; for sir Thomas Lucy, who, by the coat of arms he bears, must be the real justice Shallow, lived at Charlecot near Stratford, in Warwickshire. Steevens. &lblank; goodman Puff of Barson.] Barston is a village in Warwickshire, lying between Coventry and Solyhull. Percy. Mr. Tollet has the same observation, and adds that Woncot may be put for Wolphmancote, vulgarly Ovencote, in the same county. Shakespeare might be unwilling to disguise the satire too much, and therefore mentioned places within the jurisdiction of sir Thomas Lucy. Steevens.

Note return to page 1098 3Let king Cophetua &c.] Lines taken from an old bombast play of King Cophetua; of whom, we learn from Shakespeare, there were ballads too. Warburton. See Love's Labour's lost. Johnson.

Note return to page 1099 4&lblank; Scarlet and John.] This scrap (as Dr. Percy has observed in the first volume of his Reliques of ancient English Poetry) is taken from a stanza in the old ballad of Robin Hood and the Pindar of Wakefield. Steevens.

Note return to page 1100 5&lblank; Bezonian? speak or die.] So again Suffolk says in the 2d part of Henry VI: “Great men oft die by vile Bezonians.” It is a term of reproach, frequent in the writers contemporary with our poet. Bisognoso, a needy person; thence metaphorically, a base scoundrel. Theobald. Nash, in Pierce Pennylesse his Supplication, &c. 1595, says: “Proud lords do tumble from the towers of their high descents, and be trod under feet of every inferior Besonian.” In The Widow's Tears, a comedy by Chapman, 1612, the primitive word is used: “&lblank; spurn'd out by grooms, like a base Besogno!” And again, in Sir Giles Goosecap, a comedy, 1606: —“If he come like to your Besogno, your boor, so he be rich, they care not.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1101 6&lblank; fig me, like The bragging Spaniard.] To fig, in Spanish, higas dar, is to insult by putting the thumb between the fore and middle finger. From this Spanish custom we yet say in contempt, “a fig for you.” Johnson. So, in The Shepherd's Slumber, a song published in England's Helicon, 1614: “With scowling browes their follies checke,   “And so give them the fig, &c.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1102 7Where is the life that late I led, &c.] Words of an old ballad. Warburton. The same has been already introduced in the Taming of a Shrew. Steevens.

Note return to page 1103 8Enter hostess &c.] This stage-direction in the quarto edit. of 1600, stands thus: “Enter Sincklo, and three or four officers.” And the name of Sincklo is prefixed to those speeches, which in the later editions are given to the Beadle. This is an additional proof that Sincklo was the name of one of the players. See the note on the Taming of the Shrew, act I. sc. i. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 1104 9Nut-hook, &c.] It has been already observed on the Merry Wives of Windsor, that nut-hook seems to have been in those times a name of reproach for a catchpoll. Johnson. A nut-hook was, I believe, a person who stole linen, &c. out at windows by means of a pole with a hook at the end of it. Greene, in his Arte of Conny-catching, has given a very particular account of this kind of fraud; so that nut-hook was probably as common a term of reproach as rogue is at present. In an old comedy, intitled Match me in London, 1631, I find the following passage—“She's the king's nut-hook, that when any filbert is ripe, pulls down the bravest boughs to his hand.” Again, in the Three Ladies of London, 1584: “To go a fishing with a cranke through a window, or to set lime-twigs to catch a pan, pot, or dish.” Again, in Albumazar, 1615: “&lblank; picking of locks and hooking cloaths out of window.” Again, in the Jew of Malta, by Marlow, 1633: “I saw some bags of money, and in the night I “Clamber'd up with my hooks.” Hence perhaps the phrase By hook or by crook, which is as old as the time of Tusser and Spenser. The first uses it in his Husbandry for the month of March, the second in the 3d book of his Faery Queene. In the first volume of Holinshed's Chronicle, p. 183, the reader may find the cant titles bestowed by the vagabonds of that age on one another, among which are hookers, or anglers; and Decker, in the Bell-man of London, 5th edit. 1640, describes this species of robbery in particular. Steevens.

Note return to page 1105 1&lblank; a dozen of cushions &lblank;] That is, to stuff her out that she might counterfeit pregnancy. So in Massinger's Old Law: “I said I was with child, &c. Thou saidst it was a cushion,” &c. Again, in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher, &c. 1592: “&lblank; to weare a cushion under her own kirtle, and to faine herself with child.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1106 2&lblank; thou thin man in a censer!] These old censers of thin metal had generally at the bottom the figure of some saint raised up with a hammer, in a barbarous kind of imbossed or chased work. The hunger-starved beadle is compared, in substance, to one of these thin raised figures, by the same kind of humour that Pistol, in The Merry Wives, calls Slender a laten bilboe. Warburton.

Note return to page 1107 3&lblank; blue bottle rogue!] A name, I suppose, given to the beadle from the colour of his livery. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is right with respect to the livery, but the allusion seems to be to the great flesh fly, commonly called a blue-bottle. Farmer. The same allusion is in Northward Hoe, 1607: “Now blue-bottle! what flutter you for, sea-pie?” The serving men were anciently habited in blue, and this is spoken on the entry of one of them. It was natural for Doll to have an aversion to the colour, as a blue gown was the dress in which a strumpet did penance. So, in The Northern Lass, 1633: —“let all the good you intended me be a lockram coif, a blew gown, a wheel, and a clean whip.” Mr. Malone confirms Dr. Johnson's remark on the dress of the beadle, by the following quotation from Michaelmas Term by Middleton, 1607: “And to be free from the interruption of blue beadles and other bawdy officers, he most politickly lodges her in a constable's house.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1108 4&lblank; half-kirtles.] Probably the dress of the prostitutes of that time. Johnson. A half-kirtle was perhaps the same kind of thing as we call at present a short-gown, or a bed-gown. There is a proverbial expression now in use which may serve to confirm it. When a person is loosely dressed they say—Such a one looks like a w&wblank; in a bed-gown. See Westward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1612: —“forty shillings I lent her to redeem two half-silk kirtles.” Steevens. The dress of the courtezans of the time confirms Mr. Steevens's observation. So, in Michaelmas Term by Middleton, 1607: “Dost dream of virginity now? remember a loose-bodied gown, wench, and let it go.” Malone.

Note return to page 1109 5&lblank; thou atomy, thou!] Atomy for anatomy. Atomy or otamy is sometimes used by the ancient writers where no blunder or depravation is designed. So, in Look about you, 1600: “For thee, for thee, thou otamie of honour, “Thou worm of majesty” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 1110 6&lblank; you rascal!] In the language of the forest, lean dear were called rascal deer. Steevens.

Note return to page 1111 7More rushes, &c.] It has been already observed, that, at ceremonial entertainments, it was the custom to strew the floor with rushes. Caius de Ephemera. Johnson. So, in Northward Hoe, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “Sir as secret as rushes in an old lady's chamber.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1112 8It doth, it doth, it doth.] The two little answers here given to Pistol, are transferred by sir T. Hanmer to Shallow, the repetition of it doth suits Shallow best. Johnson.

Note return to page 1113 9'Tis all in every part.] The sentence alluded to is: “'Tis all in all, and all in every part.” And so doubtless it should be read. 'Tis a common way of expressing one's approbation of a right measure to say, 'tis all in all. To which this fantastic character adds, with some humour, and all in every part: which, both together, make up the philosophic sentence, and complete the absurdity of Pistol's phraseology. Warburton.

Note return to page 1114 1God save thy grace, king Hal! &lblank;] A similar scene occurs in the anonymous Henry V. Falstaff and his companions address the king in the same manner, and are dismissed as in this play of Shakespeare. Steevens.

Note return to page 1115 2&lblank; most royal imp of fame!] The word imp is perpetually used by Ulpian Fulwell, and other ancient writers, for progeny: “And were it not thy royal impe   “Did mitigate our pain,” &c. Here Fulwell addresses Anne Boleyn, and speaks of the young Elizabeth. Again, in the Battle of Alcazar, 1594: “&lblank; Amurath mighty emperor of the east, “That shall receive the imp of royal race.” Again, in Claudius Tiberius Nero, 1607: “Young imps of honour.” Again, in Fuimus Troes, 1603: “&lblank; “From hence I bring “A pair of martial imps &lblank;” Imp-yn is a Welsh word, and primitively signifies a sprout, a sucker. So, in the tragedy of Darius, 1603: “Like th' ancient trunk of some disbranched tree   “Which Æol's rage hath to confusion brought, “Disarm'd of all those imps that sprung from me,   “Unprofitable stock, I serve for nought.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1116 3&lblank; profane;] In our author it often signifies love of talk without the particular idea now given it. So, in Othello: “Is he not a profane and very liberal counsellor.” Johnson.

Note return to page 1117 4&lblank; Know, the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men. Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;] Nature is highly touched in this passage. The king having shaken off his vanities, schools his old companion for his follies with great severity: he assumes the air of a preacher; bids him fall to his prayers, seek grace, and leave gormandizing. But that word unluckily presenting him with a pleasant idea, he cannot forbear pursuing it. Know, the grave doth gape for thee thrice wider, &c. and is just falling back into Hal, by an humourous allusion to Falstaff's bulk; but he perceives it immediately, and fearing sir John should take the advantage of it, checks both himself and the knight, with Reply not to me with a fool-born jest; and so resumes the thread of his discourse, and goes moralizing on to the end of the chapter. Thus the poet copies nature with great skill, and shews us how apt men are to fall back into their old customs, when the change is not made by degrees, and brought into a habit, but determined of at once on the motives of honour, interest, or reason. Warburton.

Note return to page 1118 5Not to come near our person by ten miles.] Mr. Rowe observes, that many readers lament to see Falstaff so hardly used by his old friend. But if it be considered, that the fat knight has never uttered one sentiment of generosity, and with all his power of exciting mirth, has nothing in him that can be esteemed, no great pain will be suffered from the reflection that he is compelled to live honestly, and maintained by the king, with a promise of advancement when he shall deserve it. I think the poet more blameable for Poins, who is always represented as joining some virtues with his vices, and is therefore treated by the prince with apparent distinction, yet he does nothing in the time of action; and though after the bustle is over he is again a favourite, at last vanishes without notice. Shakespeare certainly lost him by heedlessness, in the multiplicity of his characters, the variety of his action, and his eagerness to end the play. Johnson. The dismission of Falstaff was founded on a historical fact. Stowe says, that “K. Henry, after his coronation, called unto him all those young lords and gentlemen that were the followers of his young acts, to every one of whom he gave rich gifts; and then commanded, that as many as would change their manners, as he intended to do, should abide with him in his court; and to all that would persevere in their former like conversation, he gave express commandment, upon pain of their heads, never after that day to come in his presence.” In the play of Sir John Oldcastle, (with Shakespeare's name prefixed to it, 1600,) K. Henry V. is made to enquire after his old companions, as if they were still carrying on their former occupations: “Where the devil are all my old thieves? Falstaff, that vilain is so fat, he cannot get on's horse; but methinks Poins and Peto should be stirring hereabouts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1119 1&lblank; to the fleet;] I do not see why Falstaff is carried to the Fleet. We have never lost sight of him since his dismission from the king; he has committed no new fault, and therefore incurred no punishment; but the different agitations of fear, anger and surprize in him and his company, made a good scene to the eye; and our author, who wanted them no longer on the stage, was glad to find this method of sweeping them away. Johnson.

Note return to page 1120 2I heard a bird so sing,] This phrase, which I suppose to be proverbial, occurs in the ancient ballad of The rising in the North: “I heare a bird sing in mine eare,   “That I must either fight or flee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1121 3I fancy every reader, when he ends this play, cries out with Desdemona, “O most lame and impotent conclusion!” As this play was not, to our knowledge, divided into acts by the author, I could be content to conclude it with the death of Henry the Fourth. In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. These scenes, which now make the fifth act of Henry the Fourth, might then be the first of Henry the Fifth; but the truth is, that they do unite very commodiously to either play. When these plays were represented, I believe they ended as they are now ended in the books; but Shakespeare seems to have designed that the whole series of action from the beginning of Richard the Second, to the end of Henry the Fifth, should be considered by the reader as one work, upon one plan, only broken into parts by the necessity of exhibition. None of Shakespeare's plays are more read than the First and Second Parts of Henry the Fourth. Perhaps no author has ever in two plays afforded so much delight. The great events are interesting, for the fate of kingdoms depends upon them; the slighter occurences are diverting, and, except one or two, sufficiently probable; the incidents are multiplied with wonderful fertility of invention, and the characters diversified with the utmost nicety of discernment, and the profoundest skill in the nature of man. The prince, who is the hero both of the comic and tragic part, is a young man of great abilities and violent passions, whose sentiments are right, though his actions are wrong; whose virtues are obscured by negligence, and whose understanding is dissipated by levity. In his idle hours he is rather loose than wicked; and when the occasion forces out his latent qualities, he is great without effort, and brave without tumult. The trifler is roused into a hero, and the hero again reposes in the trifler. This character is great, original, and just. Percy is a rugged soldier, choleric, and quarrelsome, and has only the soldier's virtues, generosity and courage. But Falstaff unimitated, unimitable Falstaff, how shall I describe thee? Thou compound of sense and vice; of sense which may be admired, but not esteemed; of vice which may be despised, but hardly detested. Falstaff is a character loaded with faults, and with those faults which naturally produce contempt. He is a thief and a glutton, a coward and a boaster, always ready to cheat the weak, and prey upon the poor; to terrify the timorous, and insult the defenceless. At once obsequious and malignant, he satirizes in their absence those whom he lives by flattering. He is familiar with the prince only as an agent of vice, but of this familiarity he is so proud, as not only to be supercilious and haughty with common men, but to think his interest of importance to the duke of Lancaster. Yet the man thus corrupt, thus despicable, makes himself necessary to the prince that despises him, by the most pleasing of all qualities, perpetual gaiety, by an unfailing power of exciting laughter, which is the more freely indulged, as his wit is not of the splendid or ambitious kind, but consists in easy scapes and sallies of levity, which make sport, but raise no envy. It must be observed, that he is stained with no enormous or sanguinary crimes, so that his licentiousness is not so offensive but that it may be borne for his mirth. The moral to be drawn from this representation is, that no man is more dangerous than he that, with a will to corrupt, hath the power to please; and that neither wit nor honesty ought to think themselves safe with such a companion, when they see Henry seduced by Falstaff. Johnson.

Note return to page 1122 4This epilogue was merely occasional, and alludes to some theatrical transaction. Johnson.

Note return to page 1123 5All the gentlewomen, &c.] The trick of influencing one part of the audience by the favour of the other, has been played already in the epilogue to As you like it. Johnson.

Note return to page 1124 6&lblank; and make you merry with fair Katharine of France: &lblank;] I think this is a proof that the French scenes in Henry V. however unworthy of our author, were really written by him. It is evident from this passage, that he had at this time formed the plan of that play; and how was fair Katharine to make the audience merry, but by speaking broken English? The conversation and courtship of a great princess, in the usual style of the drama, was not likely to afford any merriment. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 1125 7&lblank; for Oldcastle died a martyr, &c.] This alludes to a play in which sir John Oldcastle was put for Falstaff. Pope. The reader will find this assertion disputed in a note on the play of Henry V. Steevens.

Note return to page 1126 8I wonder no one has remarked at the conclusion of the epilogue, that it was the custom of the old players, at the end of their performance, to pray for their patrons. Thus at the end of New Custom: Preserve our noble Q. Elizabeth, and her councell all.” And in Locrine: “So let us pray for that renowned maid, &c.” And in Middleton's Mad World my Masters: “This shows like kneeling after the play; I praying for my lord Overmuch and his good countess, our honourable lady and mistress.” Farmer. Thus, at the end of Preston's Cambyses: “As duty binds us, for our noble queene let us pray,   “And for her honourable councel, the truth that they may use, “To practise justice, and defende her grace eche day;   “To maintaine God's word they may not refuse, “To correct all those that would her grace and grace's laws abuse:   “Beseeching God over us she may reign long,   “To be guided by trueth and defended from wrong.”     “Amen. q. Thomas Preston.” So, at the end of All for Money, a morality, by T. Lupton, 1578: “Let us pray for the queen's majesty our soveraign governour, “That she may raign quietly according to God's will, &c.” Again, at the end of Lusty Juventus, a morality, 1561: “Now let us make our supplications together, “For the prosperous estate of our noble and virtuous king,” &c. Again, at the end of the Disobedient Child, an interlude by Thomas Ingeland, bl. l. no date: “Here the rest of the players come in, and kneele downe all togyther, eche of them sayinge one of these verses:” “And last of all, to make an end, “O God to the we most humblye praye, “That to queen Elizabeth thou do sende “Thy lyvely pathe, and perfect waye, &c. &c.” Again, at the conclusion of Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1598: “Which God preserve our noble queen,   “From perilous chance which hath been seene; “And send her subjects grace, say I,   “To serve her highness patiently!” Again, at the conclusion of a comedy called A Knack to know a Knave, 1594: “And may her days of blisse never have end, “Upon whose lyfe so many lyves depend.” Again, at the end of Apius and Virginia, 1575: “Beseeching God, as duty is, our gracious queene to save, “The nobles, and the commons eke, with prosprous life I crave.” Lastly, sir John Harrington's Metamorphosis of Ajax, 1596, finishes with these words: “But I will neither end with sermon nor prayer, lest some wags liken me to my L. ( ) players, who when they have ended a baudie comedy, as though that were a preparative to devotion, kneele downe solemnly, and pray all the companie to pray with them for their good lord and maister.” Almost all the ancient interludes I have met with, conclude with some solemn prayer for the king or queen, house of commons, &c. Hence perhaps the Vivant Rex and Regina, at the bottom of our modern play-bills. Steevens.

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