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There is reason to believe that he performed the part of old Knowell in Every Man in his Humour—Adam in As you like It—and the Ghost in Hamlet. See Vol. I. p. 302. note (^e). The following lines in The Scourge of Folly, by John Davies of Hereford, [no date, but printed about 1611] which the writer is pleased to call an Epigram, lead me to believe that our author likewise played Duncan in Macbeth, king Henry IV, and king Henry VI; parts which do not call for the exertion of any extraordinary theatrical powers:

“To our English Terence, Mr. William Shakespeare.”
“Some say, good Will, which I in sport do sing.
“Hadst thou not play'd some kingly parts in sport,
“Thou hadst been a companion for a king,
“And been a king among the meaner sort.
“Some others raile, but raile as they think fit,
“Thou hast no railing but a raigning wit,
“And honesty thou sow'st, which they do reape,
“So to encrease their stock which they do keepe.”

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The author of Historia Histrionica, 1699, concurs with Rowe, in saying, there was a stage-tradition, that Shakspeare was much more celebrated as a poet than as an actor.

appears to have been a tragedian. He is introduced in person, in an old play called The Returne from Parnassus, and instructs a Cambridge scholar how to play the part of King Richard III. See also bishop Corbet's Poems, 1648:

“For when he would have said, king Richard dy'd,
“And call'd a horse, a horse, he Burbage cry'd.”

He was one of the principal sharers or proprietors of the Globe and Black-fryars play-houses. In a letter preserved in the British Museum, (Ms. Harl. 7002,) written in the year 1613, the actors at the Globe are called Burbage's Company* ^note. He died, as we learn from Camden, (who styles him “alter Roscius,”) in 1619.

The following character of Burbage is given by Flecknoe, in his Short Discourse of the English Stage, 1664:

“He was a delightful Proteus, so wholly transforming himself into his part, and putting off himself with his cloaths, as he never (not so much as in the tyring-house) assumed himself again until the play was done.—He had all the parts of an excellent orator, animating his words with speaking, and speech with action; his auditors being never more delighted than when he spake, nor more sorry than when he held his peace: yet even then, he was an excellent actor still, never falling in his part, when he had done speaking, but with his looks and gesture maintaining it still unto the height.”

is said by Roberts the playerⁱ ^note to have been a tragedian. He does not produce any authority, but probably his assertion was grounded on some theatrical tradition. From an entry in the Council-books at Whitehall, I find that he was manager or principal proprietor of the Globe play-house before the death of queen Elizabeth. He is joined with Shakspeare, Burbage, &c. in the licence granted by king James

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in 1603; and all the payments made in 1613 by lord Stanhope, treasurer of the chambers to king James I. on account of plays performed at court in that year, are to “John Heminge and the rest of his fellows.” In 1623, in conjunction with Condell and Ford the poet, he published the first complete edition of our author's plays; soon after which time it has been supposed that he withdrew from the theatre; but this is a mistake. He continued chief director of the king's company of comedians till 1629* ^note, in which year he either died or retired from the stage.

This actor is likewise named in the licence granted by king James in 1603. It appears from Heywood's Apology for Actors, printed in 1610, that he was then dead. In an extraordinary exhibition, entitled The Seven Deadly Sins, (of which an account will be given hereafter) he represented Sardanapalus. I have not been able to learn what parts he performed in our author's plays; but believe that he was in the same class as Kempe, and Armine; for he appears, like the former of these players, to have published a ludicrous metrical piece, which was entered on the Stationers' books in 1595. Philips's production was entitled The Jigg of the Slippers.

was the successor of Tarleton. “Here I must needs remember Tarleton, (says Heywood, in his Apology for Actors,) in his time gracious with the queen his soveraigne, and in the people's general applause; whom succeeded Will. Kempe, as well in the favour of her majestie, as in the opinion and good thoughts of the general audience.” From the quarto editions of some of our author's plays, we learn that he was the original performer of Dogberry in Much Ado about Nothing, and of Peter in Romeo and Juliet. From an old comedy called The Returne from Parnassus, we may collect, that he was the original Justice Shallow; and the contemporary writers inform us that he usually acted the part of a Clown; in which character he was celebrated for his extemporal wit^k ^note

. Launcelot in the Merchant of Venice,

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and Touchstone in As you like It, were probably performed by this comedian.

He was an author as well as an actor^l ^note.

This actor likewise performed the part of a Clown^m ^note

. He died before 1610ⁿ ^note.

I have not been able to gain any intelligence concerning this performer, except, that in the exhibition of The Seven Deadly Sins, he represented the Earl of Warwick.

is said by Roberts the player to have been a comedian; but he does not mention any other authority but stage-tradition. From his having, in conjunction with Heminge, published Shakspeare's plays, and from the notice taken of him in our author's Will, it is reasonable to suppose that he was one of the proprietors of the Globe and Black-fryars theatres.

In Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, he acted the part of the Cardinal.

was joined with Shakspeare, &c. in the licence granted in 1603.—He is introduced, personally, in the induction to Marston's Malecontent, 1604, and from his there using an affected phrase of Osrick's in Hamlet, we may collect that he performed that part. He died before the year 1610^o ^note.

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appears to have been an actor of a low class, having performed the part of Verges in Much Ado about Nothing.

was a principal performer in these plays. If tradition may be credited, he was the original Falstaff^p ^note. He is said by Roberts the player to have also performed king Henry VIII. and Hamlet; but with respect to the latter, he seems to have mistaken; for it appears from more ancient writers, that Joseph Taylor was the original performer of that character^q ^note.

Lowin is introduced, in person, in the induction to Marston's Malecontent, printed in 1604; and he and Taylor are mentioned in a copy of verses, written about the year 1629, soon after the appearance of Jonson's Magnetick Lady, as the two most celebrated actors of that time:

“Let Lowin cease, and Taylor scorn to touch
“The loathed stage, for thou hast made it such.”

Besides the parts already mentioned, this actor represented the following characters—Morose, in The Silent Woman— Volpone in The Fox—Mammon in The Alchymist—Melantius in The Maid's Tragedy—Aubrey in The Bloody Brother— Bosola in The Dutchess of Malfy—Jacomo in The Deserving Favourite—Eubulus in Massinger's Picture—Domitian in The Roman Actor—and Belleur in The Wild Goose Chace.

After the suppression of the theatres, he became very poor. In 1653, in conjunction with Joseph Taylor, he published Fletcher's comedy called The Wild Goose Chace, for bread; and in his latter years, he kept an inn (The Three Pidgeons) at Brentford, where he died some time before the Restoration, very old^r ^note. There is a picture of him, either in the Ashmole Museum, or in the Picture-Gallery, at Oxford.

This actor was probably dead before the year 1600; for Heywood, who had himself written for the stage before that time, says he had never seen him.

From The Platt of the Seven Deadly Sinns, it appears that this actor was the principal stage-heroine. He acted some woman's part in Jonson's Sejanus, and in The Fox; and, we

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may presume, performed all the principal female characters in our author's plays.

Unknown.

was alive in 1611, some verses having been addressed to him in that year by John Davies of Hereford; from which he appears to have occasionally performed the part of the Fool or Clown in Shakspeare's plays^s ^note

.

He was author of a comedy called The Two Maides of More-clacke, 1609.—A book likewise, called A Nest of Ninnies simply of themselves, with compound, by Robert Armin, was published in 1608. And at Stationers' Hall was entered in the same year, “a book called Phantasm the Italian Taylor and his Boy, made by Mr. Armin, servant to his majesty.”

Mr. Oldys, in his Ms. notes on Langbaine, says, that “Armin was an apprentice at first to a goldsmith in Lombard-Street.” He adds, that “the means of his becoming a player is recorded in Tarleton's jests printed in 1611, where it appears, this 'prentice going often to a tavern in Grace-church-Street, to dun the keeper thereof, who was a debtor to his master, Tarleton, who of the master of that tavern was now only a lodger in it, saw some verses written by Armin on the wainscot, upon his master's said debtor, whose name was Charles Tarleton, and liked them so well, that he wrote others under them, prophecying, that as he was, so Armin should be: therefore, calls him his adopted son, to wear the Clown's suit after him. And so it fell out, for the boy was so pleased with what Tarleton had written of him, so respected his person, so frequented his plays, and so learned his humour and manners, that from his private practice he came to publick playing his parts; that he was in great repute for the same at the Globe at the Bank-side, &c. all the former part of king James's reign.”

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had been one of the children of the Chapel; and is said to have performed womens' parts. In Davies's Scourge of Folly, there are some verses addressed to him with this title: “To the Roscius of these times, William Ostler.” He acted Antonio in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy.

Both these actors had been children of the chapel* ^note, and probably performed female parts. Field, when he became too manly to represent the characters of women, played the part of Bussy d' Ambois in Chapman's play of that name. From the preface prefixed to it, it appears that he was dead in 1641. He was the author of two comedies, called A Woman is a Weather-cock, and Amends for Ladies; and he assisted Massinger in writing The Fatal Dowry.

Underwood acted Delio in The Dutchess of Malfy.

acted Forobosco in The Dutchess of Malfy. From the Platt of the Seven Deadly Sinns, it appears, that he sometimes represented female characters.

No ancient piece (that I have seen) contains any memorial of this actor.

appears from some verses already cited, to have been a celebrated actor. According to Downes the prompter, he was instructed by Shakspeare to play Hamlet; and Wright in his Historia Histrionica, says, “He performed that part incomparably well.” From the remembrance of his performance of Hamlet, Sir William D'Avenant is said to have conveyed his instructions to Mr. Betterton. Taylor likewise played Iago. He also performed True-wit in The Silent Woman, and Face in The Alchymist^t ^note. He represented Ferdinand in The Dutchess of Malfy, after the death of Burbage. He acted Matthias in The Picture, by Massinger; Paris in The Roman Actor; the Duke in Carlell's Deserving Favourite; Rollo in The Bloody Brother; and, Mirabel in The Wild Goose Chase.

He died at Richmond in Surry, some time after the year 1653, and was buried there.

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He is said by some to have painted the only original picture of Shakspeare now extant, in the possession of the duke of Chandos. By others, Burbage is reported to have been the painter.

appears to have been a second-rate actor. He performed Antonio in The Dutchess of Malfy, after the death of Ostler. He also acted the part of the King in The Deserving Favourite; Ladislaus in The Picture; Junius Rusticus in The Roman Actors; and De-gard in The Wild Goose Chase.

He was alive in 1647, being one of the players who signed the dedication to the folio edition of Fletcher's plays, published in that year.

This actor probably performed female characters. In The Seven Deadly Sins, he played Aspatia.

is said by Wright to have been a comedian. He acted in Jonson's Catiline in 1611; and, it should seem from a passage in The Devil is an Ass, [act II. sc. viii.] 1616, that at that time he usually represented female characters. I have not learned what parts in our author's plays were performed by this actor. In The Deserving Favourite, he played Orsinio; and in The Wild Goose Chase La Castre. In Massinger's Roman Actor, he performed Æsopus; and in The Dutchess of Malfy, after the death of Condell, he played the Cardinal. Hart, the celebrated actor, was originally his boy or apprentice. Robinson was alive in 1647, his name being signed, with several others, to the dedication prefixed to the first folio edition of Fletcher's plays. In the civil wars he served in the king's army, and was killed in an engagement, by Harrison, who was afterwards hanged at Charing-Cross. Harrison refused him quarter, after he had laid down his arms, and shot him in the head, saying at the same time, “Cursed is he that doth the work of the Lord negligently^u ^note.”

was, according to Wright, a comedian. He was but in a low class, having performed the part of the Curate in Fletcher's Scornful Lady, and that of Hillario (a servant) in The Wild Goose Chase.

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The only information I have met with concerning this player, is, that he performed the Marquis of Pescara, an inconsiderable part in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy.

The foregoing list is said, in the first folio, to contain the names of the principal actors in these plays.

Besides these, we know that John Wilson played an insignificant part in Much Ado about Nothing; but it was not this performer who was celebrated by Meres for learning and extemporal witte, [as Mr. Steevens imagined—See vol. I. p. 233, Prolegomena] but one Thomas Wilson^w ^note.

Gabriel was likewise an inferior actor, as appears from the old editions of the third part of K. Henry VI. See the first folio, p. 150, where we find “enter Gabriel.” The quartos here read, “Enter a messenger.”

Sinkler or Sinklo, was likewise a player of the same class^x ^note.9Q1279

With respect to Edward Alleyn, who, according to Langbaine, was an ornament to Black-fryars, Wright, who seems to have been better acquainted with the ancient stage, says, “He had never heard that Alleyn acted there.”

To this short account of the original actors in Shakspeare's plays, I shall subjoin a transcript of a very curious paper now in my possession, entitled, The Platt of the Secound Parte of the Seven Deadlie Sinns, as it serves in some measure to mark the various degrees of consequence of several of these performers.

The piece entitled The Seven Deadly Sins, in two parts, (of one of which the annexed paper contains the outlines) was written by Tarleton the comedian^y ^note

. From the manner

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in which it is mentioned by Gabriel Harvey, his contemporary, it appears to have been a new and unexampled species of dramatick exhibition. He expressly calls it a play. I think it probable, that it was first produced soon after a violent attack had been made against the stage. Several invectives against plays were published in the latter part of the reign of queen Elizabeth. It seems to have been the purpose of the author of this exhibition, to concenter in one performance the principal subjects of the serious drama, and to exhibit at one view those uses to which it might be applied with advantage. That these Seven Deadly Sins, as they are here called, were esteemed the principal subjects of tragedy, may appear from the following words of Heywood, who, in his Apology for Actors, introduces Melpomene thus speaking:

“Have I not whipt vice with a scourge of steele,
“Unmaskt sterne Murther, sham'd lascivious Lust,
“Pluckt off the visar from grimme treason's face,
“And made the sunne point at their ugly sinnes?
“Hath not this powerful hand tam'd fiery Rage,
“Kill'd poysonous Envy with her own keene darts,

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“Choak'd up the covetous mouth with moulten gold,
“Burst the vast wombe of eating Gluttony,
“And drown'd the drunkard's gall in juice of grapes?
“I have shew'd Pride his picture on a stage,
“Layde ope the ugly shapes his steel-glasse hid,
“And made him passe thence meekely &lblank;”

As a very full and satisfactory account of the exhibition described in this ancient fragment, by Mr. Steevens, will be found in the following pages, it is unnecessary to add any thing upon the subject.—What dramas were represented in the first part of the Seven Deadly Sins, we can now only conjecture, as probably the Plat of that piece is long since destroyed. The ill consequences of Rage, I suppose, were inculcated by the exhibition of Alexander and the death of Clitus, on which subject, it appears there was an ancient play^z ^note. Some scenes from the drama of Mydas^a ^note were probably introduced to exhibit the odiousness and folly of Avarice. Lessons against Pride and ambition were perhaps furnished, either by the play of Ninus and Semiramis^b ^note, or by a piece formed on the story of Phaeton^c ^note: And Gluttony, we may suppose, was rendered odious in the person of Heliogabalus.

Malone.

-- --

A tent being plast on the stage for Henry the Sixt. He in it asleepe. To him the Lieutenant, a Purcevant, R. Cowley Jo Duke, & 1 Warder, R Pollant, to them Pride, Gluttony, Wrath and Covetousnes at one dore. at another dore Envie, Sloth and Lechery. The three put back the foure and so exeunt.

Henry awaking Enter a Keeper J Sincler. to him a Servaunt T. Belt. To him Lidgate, & the Keeper Exit, then enter againe. Then Envy passeth over the stag. Lidgate speakes.

A Senitt. Dumb Show.

Enter King Gorboduk w^th. 2 Counsailers. R. Burbadg Mr Brian Th. Goodale. The Queene with Ferrex and Porrex and som attendaunts follow. Saunder. W. Sly. Harry. J Duke. Kitt. R^o Pallant. J Holland. After Gorboduk hath consulted with his lords he brings his 2 sonns to to severall seates. They enving on on other Ferrex offers to take Porex his Corowne. he draws his weapon. The King Queene and Lords step between them. They thrust them away and menasing ech other exit. The Queene and Lords depart hevilie. Lidgate speaks.

Enter Ferrex crownd with drum & coulers and soldiers one way. Harry. Kitt. R. Cowley John Duke to them at another dore Porrex drum & collors & soldiers. W. Sly. R Pallant. John Sincler. J. Holland.

Enter queene with 2 counsailors Mr Brian Tho. Goodale. to them Ferrex and Porrex several waies with drums and powers. Gorboduk entering in the midst between. Henry speaks.

Alarum with excurtions. After Lidgate speakes.

Enter Ferrex & Porrex severally Gorboduk still following them. Lucius & Damasus Mr Bry T. Good.

Enter Ferrex at one dore. Porrex at another. The fight. Ferrex is slayne. To them Videna the Queene. to her Damasus. to him Lucius.

Enter Porrex sad with Dordan his man. R. P. W. Sly. To them the Queene and a Ladie. Nich. Saunder. and Lords R. Cowly Mr. Brian. To them Lucius running.

Henry and Lidgat speaks. Sloth passeth over.

Enter Giraldus Phronesius Aspatia Pompeia Rodope. R. Cowly. Th. Goodale. R. Go. Ned. Nick.

Enter Sardinapalus Arbactus Nicanor and Captaines marching. Mr. Philipps. Mr. Pope. R. Pa. Kit. J. Sincler. J Holland.

Enter a Captaine with Aspatia and the Ladies. Kitt.

Lidgat speake.

Enter Nicanor w^th. other Captaines R. Pall. J. Sincler. Kitt. J. Holland. R. Cowly. to them Arbactus Mr Pope. to him Will Foole² ^note J. Duke. to him Rodopeie Ned. to her Sardanapalus like a woman w^th. Aspatia Rodope Pompeia Will. Foole. to them Arbactus & 3 musitions Mr Pope J. Sincler. Vincent. R Cowley. to them Nicanor and others R. P. Kitt.

Enter Sardanapa. w^th. the Ladies. to them a Messenger Tho Goodale. to him Will Foole running. Alarum.

Enter Arbactus pursuing Sardanapalus, and the Ladies fly. After enter Sarda. with as many jewels robes and gold as he can cary.

alarum.

Enter Arbactus Nicanor and the other Captains in triumph. Mr Pope R. Pa. Kitt. J. Holl. R. Cow. J. Sinc.

Henry speakes and Lidgate. Lechery passeth over the stag.

Enter Tereus Philomela Julio. R. Burbadge Ro. R. Pall. J. Sink.

Enter Progne Itis and Lords. Saunder. Will. J. Duke. W. Sly. Harry.

Enter Philomele and Tereus. to them Julio.

Enter Progne Panthea Itis and Lords. Sander T. Belt. Will. W Sly. Hary. Th. Goodale. to them Tereus with Lords R. Burbadge. J. Duk. R. Cowley.

A dumb show. Lidgate speakes.

Enter Progne with the sampler. to her Tereus from hunting w^th. his Lords. to them Philomele with Itis hed in a dish. Mercury comes and all vanish. to him 3 Lords. Th. Goodale. Hary. W. Sly.

Henry speaks. to him Lieutenant Pursevaunt and Warders. R. Cowley J. Duke J. Holland. Joh. Sincler. to them Warwick Mr. Brian.

Lidgate speaks to the audiens and so Exitts.

[unresolved image link]

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This singular curiosity was met with in the library of Dulwich college, where it had remained unnoticed from the time of Alleyn who founded that society, and was himself the chief or only proprietor of the Fortune play-house.

The Platt (for so it is called) is fairly written out on pasteboard in a large hand, and undoubtedly contained directions appointed to be stuck up near the prompter's station. It has an oblong hole in its centre, sufficient to admit a wooden peg; and has been converted into a cover for an anonymous manuscript play entitled The Tell-tale. From this cover^d ^note I made the preceding transcript; and the best conjectures I am able to form about its supposed purpose and operation, are as follows.

It is certainly (according to its title) the ground-work of a motley exhibition, in which the heinousness of the seven deadly sins^e ^note9Q1280 was exemplified by aid of scenes and circumstances adapted from different dramas, and connected by means of choruses or occasional speakers. As the first part of this extraordinary entertainment is wanting, I cannot promise myself the most complete success in my attempts to explain the nature of it.

The period is not exactly fixed at which moralities gave way to the introduction of regular tragedies and comedies. Perhaps indeed this change was not effected on a sudden, but the audiences were to be gradually weaned from their accustomed modes of amusement. The necessity of half indulging and half repressing a gross and vicious taste, might have given rise to such pieces of dramatick patch-work as this. Even the most rigid puritans might have been content to behold exhibitions in which Pagan histories were rendered subservient to Christian purposes. The dullness of the intervening homilist would have half absolved the deadly sin of the poet. A sainted audience would have been tempted to think the representation of Othello laudable, provided the piece

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were at once heightened and moralized by choruses spoken in the characters of Ireton and Cromwell.—Let it be remembered, however, that to perform several short and distinct plays in the course of the same evening, was a practice continued much below the imagined date of this theatrical directory. Shakspeare's Yorkshire Tragedy was one out of four pieces acted together; and Beaumont and Fletcher's works supply a further proof of the existence of the same custom.

This “Platt of the second part of the seven deadly sins” seems to be formed out of three plays only, viz. Lord Buckhurst's Gorboduc, and two others with which we are utterly unacquainted, Sardanapalus and Tereus^f ^note

. It is easy to conceive how the different sins might be exposed in the conduct of the several heroes of these pieces. Thus Porrex through Envy destroys his brother—Sardanapalus was a martyr to his sloth:

Et venere, et cænis, et pluma Sardanapali. Juv. Sat. x.

Tereus gratified his lechery by committing a rape on his wife's sister. I mention these three only, because it is apparent that the danger of the four preceding vices had been illustrated in the former part of the same entertainment. “These three put back the other four,” as already done with, at the opening of the present exhibition. Likewise Envy crosses the stage before the drama of Gorboduc, and Sloth and Lechery appear before those of Sardanapalus and Tereus.—It is probable also that these different personages might be meant to appear as

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in a vision to King Henry VI. while he slept; and that as often as he awaked, he introduced some particular comment on each preceding occurrence. His piety would well enough entitle him to such an office. In this task he was occasionally seconded by Lidgate the monk of Bury, whose age, learning, and experience, might be supposed to give equal weight to his admonitions. The latter cetrainly, at his final exit, made a formal address to the spectators.

As I have observed that only particular scenes from these dramas appear to have been employed, so probably even these were altered as well as curtailed. We look in vain for the names of Lucius and Damasus in the list of persons prefixed to the tragedy of Gorboduc. These new characters might have been added, to throw the materials that composed the last act into narrative, and thereby shorten the representation; or perhaps all was tragick pantomime, or dumb show^g ^note, except the alternate monologues of Henry and Lidgate; for from the Troie Boke of the latter I learn that the reciters of dramatick pieces were once distinct from the acting performers or gesticulators. But at what period this practice (which was perhaps the parent of all the pageantry and dumb shows in theatrical pieces during the reign of Elizabeth) was begun or discontinued, I believe (like many customs of greater importance) is not to be determined.

“In the theatre there was a small aulter
“Amyddes sette that was halfe circuler
“Which into easte of custome was directe
“Upon the which a pulpet was erecte
“And therein stode an auncient poete
“For to reherse by rethorykes swete
“The noble dedes that were hystoryall
“Of kynges and prynces for memoryall,
“And of these olde worthy emperours
“The great empryse eke of conquerours,
“And how they gat in Martes hye honour
“The lawrer grene for syne of their labour,

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“The palme of knighthood diserved by old date,
“Or Parchas made them passen into fate.
“And after that with chere and face pale,
“With style enclyned gan to tourne his tale,
“And for to synge after all their loose,
“Full mortally the stroke of Attropose,
“And tell also for all their worthy head
“The sodeyne breaking of their lives threde,
“How piteously they made their mortall ende
“Thrugh false fortune that al the world wil shende,
“And how the fyne of all their worthynesse
“Ended in sorowe and in high tristesse
“By compassynge of fraud or false treason,
“By sodaine murder or vengeance of poyson,
“Or conspyryng of fretyng false envye
“How unwarily that they dydden dye,
“And how their renowne and their mighty fame
“Was of hatred sodeynly made lame,
“And how their honour downward gan decline,
“And the mischiefe of their unhappy fyne,
“And how fortune was to them unswete,
“All this was told and red by the poete.
“And whyle that he in the pulpit stode
“With deadly face all devoyde of blode,
“Synging his ditees with muses all to rent,
“Amyd the theatre shrowded in a tent,
“There came out men gastfull in their cheres,
“Disfygured their faces with viseres,
“Playing by sygnes in the peoples syght
“That the pocte songe hath on heyght,
“So that there was no manner discordaunce
“Atwene his ditees and their countenaunce;
“For lyke as he alofte dyd expresse
“Words of joye or of heavinesse,
“Meaning and chere beneth of them playing
“From poynt to poynt was alway answering;
“Now triste, now glad, now hevy, and now light,
“And face ychaungid with a sodeyne slyght
“So craftely they coulde them transfygare,
“Conforming them unto the chante pure,
“Now to synge and sodaynely to wepe
“So well they could their observaunces kepe.
“And this was done, &c.” —Troie Boke, B. ii. c. 12.

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I think Gravina has somewhere alluded to the same contrivance in the rude exhibitions of very early dramatick pieces.

It may be observed, that though Lidgate assures us both tragedies and comedies were thus represented in the city of Troy, yet Guido of Colonna (a civilian and poet of Messina in Sicily) whom he has sometimes very closely followed, makes mention of no such exhibitions. The custom however might have been prevalent here, and it is probable that Lidgate, like Shakspeare, made no scruple of attributing to a foreign country the pecularities of his own.

To conclude, the mysterious fragment of ancient stage-directions, which gave rise to the present remarks, must have been designed for the use of those who were familiarly acquainted with each other, as sometimes, instead of the surname of a performer, we only meet with Ned or Nich^h ^note

Edmond Malone [1780], Supplement to the edition of Shakspeare's plays published in 1778 By Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. In two volumes. Containing additional observations by several of the former commentators: to which are subjoined the genuine poems of the same author, and seven plays that have been ascribed to him; with notes By the editor and others (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10911].

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SUPPLEMENT TO THE LAST EDITION OF SHAKSPEARE, 1778. 10911001

After Mr. Steevens's note at the bottom of p. 85, the following imperfect account of our ancient theatres may be added.

In the preceding page the antiquarian has been gratified with a view of the Globe Play-house. It may not be wholly unamusing to examine the inside of the building, and to exhibit as accurate a delineation of the internal form and œconomy of our ancient theatres, as the distance at which we stand, and the obscurity of the subject, will permit.

The drama, before the time of Shakspeare, was so little cultivated, or so ill understood, that it is unnecessary to carry our researches higher than that period. Dryden has truly observed, that he “found not, but created first the stage;” of which no one can doubt, who considers, that of all the plays issued from the press antecedent to the year 1592, when there is good reason to believe he commenced a dramatick writer, the titles are scarcely known, except to antiquarians; nor is there one of them that will bear a second perusal. Yet these, contemptible and few as they are, we may suppose to have been the most popular productions of the time, and the best that had been exhibited before the appearance of Shakspeare^a ^note

-- 2 --

The most ancient English play-houses of which I have met any accounts, are the Curtain in Shore-ditch, and the Theatre^b ^note.

-- 3 --

In the time of our author, there were no less than ten theatres open: four private houses, viz. that in Black-friars, the Cockpit or Phœnix in Drury Lane, a theatre in White-friars, and one in Salisbury Court; and six that were called public theatres; viz. the Globe, the Swan, the Rose, and the Hope^c ^note, on the Bank-side; the Red Bull at the upper end of St. John's street, and the Fortune in White-cross street. The two last were chiefly frequented by citizens^d ^note.

Most, if not all of Shakspeare's plays were performed either at the Globe, or at the theatre in Black-friars. I shall therefore confine my enquiries chiefly to these two. It appears that they both belonged to the same company of comedians, viz. his majesty's servants, which title they assumed, after a licence had been granted to them by king James in 1603; having before that time been called the servants of the lord chamberlain.

The theatre in Black-friars was, as has been mentioned, a private house; but what were the peculiar and distinguishing marks of a private play-house, it is not easy to ascertain. We know only that it was very small^e ^note

; and that plays were there usually represented by candlelight^f ^note.

-- 4 --

The Globe, which was situated on the southern side of the river Thames, was an hexagonal building, partly open to the weather, partly covered with reeds It was a public theatre, and of considerable size^g ^note

; and there they always acted by day-light^h ^note. On the roof of the Globe, and the other public theatres, a pole was erected, to which a flag was affixedⁱ ^note

. These flags were probably displayed only

-- 5 --

during the hours of exhibition; and it should seem from a passage in one of the old comedies, that they were taken down during Lent, in which season no plays were presented^k ^note.

The Globe, though hexagonal at the outside, was probably a rotunda within, and perhaps had its name from its circular form^l ^note

. It might, however, have been denominated only from its sign; which was a figure of Hercules supporting the Globe. This theatre was burnt down in 1613; but it was rebuilt in the following year, and decorated with more ornament than had been originally bestowed upon it^m ^note

-- 6 --

The exhibitions at the Globe seem to have been calculated chiefly for the lower class of peopleⁿ ^note

; those at Black-friars, for a more select and judicious audience. This appears from the following prologue to Shirley's Doubtful Heir, which is inserted among his poems, printed in 1646, with this title:

-- 7 --

Prologue at the Globe, to his Comedy called the Doubtful Heir, which should have been presented at the Black-friars^o ^note.

“Gentlemen, I am only sent to say,
“Our author did not calculate his play
“For this meridian. The Bank-side, he knows,
“Is far more skilful at the ebbs and flows
“Of water than of wit; he did not mean
“For the elevation of your poles, this scene.
“No shews—no dance—and what you most delight in,
“Grave understanders^p ^note, here's no target-fighting
“Upon the stage; all work for cutlers barr'd;
“No bawdry, nor no ballads;—this goes hard:
“But language clean, and what affects you not,
“Without impossibilities the plot;
“No clown, no squibs, no devil in't.—Oh now,
“You squirrels that want nuts, what will you do?
“Pray do not crack the benches, and we may
“Hereafter fit your palates with a play.
“But you that can contract yourselves, and sit,
“As you were now in the Black-friars pit,
“And will not deaf us with lewd noise and tongues,
“Because we have no heart to break our lungs,
“Will pardon our vast stage, and not disgrace
“This play, meant for your persons, not the place.”

The superior discernment of the Black-friars audience may be likewise collected from a passage in the preface prefixed by Heminge and Condell to the first folio edition of our author's works: “And though you be a magistrate of wit, and sit on the stage at Black-friars or the Cockpit, to arraigne plays dailie, know these plays have had their tryal already, and stood out all appeales.”

A writer, already quoted^q ^note, informs us that one of these

-- 8 --

theatres was a winter, and the other a summer house. As the Globe was partly exposed to the weather, and they acted there usually by day-light, it was probably the summer theatre. The exhibitions here seem to have been more frequent^r ^note than at Black-friars, at least till the year 1604 or 1605, when the Bank-side appears to have become less fashionable, and less frequented than it formerly had been^s ^note.

Many of our ancient dramatic pieces were performed in the yards of carriers' inns, in which, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the comedians, who then first united themselves in companies, erected an occasional stage^t ^note

. The form of these temporary play-houses seems to be preserved in our modern theatre. The galleries are, in both, ranged over each other on three sides of the building. The small rooms under the lowest of these galleries, answer to our present boxes; and it is observable that these even in theatres which were built in a subsequent period expressly for dramatic exhibitions, still retained their old name, and are frequently called rooms by our ancient writers. The yard bears a sufficient resemblance to the pit, as at present in use. We may suppose the stage to have been raised in this area, on the fourth side, with its back to the gateway of the inn, at which the money for admission was taken. Thus, in fine weather, a play-house not incommodious might have been formed.

Hence, in the middle of the Globe, and I suppose of the other public theatres, in the time of Shakspeare, there was an

-- 9 --

open yard or area^u ^note

, where the common people stood to see the exhibition; from which circumstance they are called by our author groundlings, and by Ben Jonson, “the understanding gentlemen of the ground.”

In the ancient play-houses there appears to have been a private box; of which it is not easy to ascertain the situation. It seems to have been placed at the side of the stage, towards the rear, and to have been at a lower price; in this some people sat, either from œconomy or singularity^w ^note

. The galleries or scaffolds, as they are sometimes

-- 10 --

called, and that part of the house, which in private theatres was named the pit^x ^note

, seem to have been at the same price; and probably in houses of reputation, such as the Globe, and that in Black-friars, the price of admission into those parts of the theatre was six-pence^y ^note

, while in some meaner play-houses

-- 11 --

it was only a penny^z ^note

, in others two-pence^a ^note

. The price of admission into the best rooms or boxes^b ^note

, was, I believe,

-- 12 --

in our author's time, a shilling^c ^note

; though afterwards it appears to have risen to two shillings^d ^note

and half a crown^e ^note

-- 13 --

From several passages in our old plays we learn, that spectators were admitted on the stage^f ^note

, and that the critics and wits of the time usually sat there^g ^note

. Some were placed on the ground^h ^note

; others sat on stools, of which the price was either sixpenceⁱ ^note or a shilling^k ^note

, according, I suppose, to the commodiousness of the situation. And they were attended by pages, who furnished them with pipes and tobacco, which

-- 14 --

was smoked here as well as in other parts of the house^l ^note

. Yet it should seem that persons were suffered to sit on the stage only in the private play-houses, (such as Black-friars, &c.) where the audience was more select, and of a higher class; and that in the Globe and the other public theatres, no such licence was permitted^m ^note

The stage was strewed with rushesⁿ ^note, which we learn from Hentzner and Caius de Ephemera, was in the time of Shakspeare, the usual covering of floors in England^o ^note. The curtain which hangs in the front of the present stage, drawn up by lines and pullies, though not a modern invention, (for it was used by Inigo Jones in the masques at court) was yet an apparatus to which the simple mechanism of our ancient theatres had not arrived; for in them the curtains opened in the middle, and were drawn backwards and forwards on an iron rod^p ^note

. In some play-houses they were

-- 15 --

woollen, in others, made of silk^q ^note

. Towards the rear of the stage there appears to have been a balcony^r ^note

, the platform

-- 16 --

of which was probably eight or ten feet from the ground. I suppose it to have been supported by pillars. From hence in many of our old plays, part of the dialogue was spoken; and in the front of this balcony, curtains likewise were hung^s ^note.

A doubt has been entertained, whether in our ancient theatres there were side and other scenes. The question is involved in so much obscurity, that it is very difficult to form any decided opinion upon it. It is certain, that in the year 1605, Inigo Jones exhibited an entertainment at Oxford, in which moveable scenes were used^t ^note; but he appears to have introduced several pieces of machinery in the masques at court, with which undoubtedly the public theatres were unacquainted. A passage which has been produced from one of the old comedies^u ^note, proves, it must be owned, that even these were furnished with some pieces of machinery, which were used when it was requisite to exhibit the descent of some god or saint; but from all the contemporary accounts, I am inclined to believe, that the mechanism of our ancient stage

-- 17 --

seldom went beyond a painted chair, or a trap-door, and that few, if any of them, had any moveable scenes^x ^note

. When

-- 18 --

king Henry VIII. is to be discovered by the dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, reading in his study, the scenical direction in the first folio, 1623, (which was printed apparently from play-house copies) is, “The king draws the curtaine, [i. e. draws it open] and sits reading pensively;” for, besides the principal curtaines that hung in the front of the stage, they used others as substitutes for scenes^y ^note. If a bed-chamber is to be exhibited, no change of scene is mentioned; but the property-man is simply ordered to thrust forth a bed. When the fable requires the Roman capitol to be exhibited, we find two officers enter, “to lay cushions, as it were in the capitol.” So, in King Richard II. act iv. sc. i. “Bolingbroke, &c. enter as to the parliament^z ^note.” Again, in Sir John Oldcastle, 1600: “Enter Cambridge, Scroop, and Gray, as in a chamber.” In Romeo and Juliet, I doubt much whether any exhibition of Juliet's monument was given on the stage. I imagine Romeo only opened with his mattock one of the stage trap-doors, (which might have represented a tomb-stone) by which he descended to a vault

-- 19 --

beneath the stage, where Juliet was deposited; and this idea is countenanced by a passage in the play, and by the poem on which the drama was founded^a ^note

How little the imaginations of the audience were assisted by scenical deception, and how much necessity our author had to call on them to “piece out imperfections with their thoughts,” may be also collected from Sir Philip Sidney, who, describing the state of the drama and the stage, in his time, says, “Now you shall see three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By and by we heare news of a shipwracke in the same place; then we are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. Upon the back of that, comes out a hideous monster with fire and smoke; then the miserable beholders are bound to take it for a cave; while in the mean time two armies fly in, represented with four swords and bucklers, and then what hard heart will not receive it for a pitched field^b ^note.”

All these circumstances induce me to believe that our ancient theatres, in general, were only furnished with curtains, and a single scene composed of tapestry^c ^note

^notemachinery is known to have existed, in 1592 (when Shakspeare commenced a play-wright) a greater number of ornaments might naturally be expected, as it is usual for one improvement to be soon followed by another. That the plays of Shakspeare were exhibited with the aid of machinery, the following stage-directions, copied from the folio 1623, will abundantly prove.— In The Tempest, Ariel is said to enter “like a harpey, claps his wings on the table, and with a quaint device the banquet vanishes.” In a subsequent scene of the same play, Juno “descends;” and in Cymbeline, Jupiter “descends likewise, in thunder and lightening, sitting upon an eagle.” In Macbeth, “the cauldron sinks, and the apparitions rise.” It may be added, that the dialogue of Shakspeare has such perpetual reference to objects supposed visible to the audience, that the want of scenery could not have failed to render many of the descriptions uttered by his speakers absurd and laughable.—Macduff examines the outside of Inverness castle with such minuteness, that he distinguishes even the nests which the martins had built under the projecting parts of its roof.—Romeo, standing in a garden, points to the tops of fruit trees gilded by the moon.—The prologue-speaker to the second part of K. Henry IV. expressly shews the spectators “this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,” in which Northumberland was lodged. Jachimo takes the most exact inventory of every article in Imogen's bed-chamber, from the silk and silver of which her tapestry was wrought, down to the Cupids that support her andirons. Had not the inside of this apartment, with its proper furniture, been represented, how ridiculous must the action of Jachimo have appeared! He must have stood looking out of the room for the particulars supposed to be visible within it. In one of the parts of K. Hen. VI. a cannon is discharged against a tower; and conversations are held in almost every scene from different walls, turrets, and battlements. Nor is my belief in ancient scenery entirely founded on conjecture. In the folio edition of Shakspeare's plays, 1623, the following traces of it are preserved. In King John: “Enter, before Angiers, Philip king of France, &c.”—“Enter a citizen upon the walls”—“Enter the herald of France with trumpets to the gates.”—“Enter Arthur on the walls.” In K. Hen. V. “Enter the king, &c. with scaling ladders at Harfleur.”—“Enter the king with all his train before the gates.” In K. Hen. VI. “Enter to the protector at the Tower gates, &c.”—“Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the walls.”—The French leap over the walls in their shirts.”—“Enter Pucelle on the top of the tower, thrusting out a torch burning.”—“Enter lord Scales upon the tower walking. Then enter two or three citizens below.”— “Enter king and queen and Somerset on the terrace.”—“Enter three watchmen to guard the king's tent.” In Coriolanus: “Marcius follows them to the gates, and is shut in.” In Timon: “Enter Timon in the woods* ^note

.”—“Enter Timon from his cave.” In Julius Cæsar: “Enter Brutus in his orchard,” &c. &c.—In short, without characteristick discriminations of place, the historical dramas of Shakspeare in particular, would have been wrapped in tenfold confusion and obscurity; nor could the spectator have felt the poet's power, or accompanied his rapid transitions from one situation to another, without such guides as painted canvas only could supply. The audience would with difficulty have received the catastrophe of Romeo and Juliet as natural and affecting, unless the deception was confirmed to them by the appearance of a tomb. The managers who could raise ghosts, bid the cauldron sink into the earth, and then exhibit a train of royal phantoms in Macbeth, could with less difficulty supply the flat paintings of a cavern or a grove. The artists who can put the dragons of Medea in motion, can more easily represent the clouds through which they are to pass. But for these, or such assistances, the spectator, like Hamlet's mother, must have bent his gaze on mortifying vacancy; and with the guest invited by the Barmecide, in the Arabian tale, must have furnished from his own imagination the entertainment of which his eyes were solicited to partake.

“It should likewise be remembered, that the intervention of civil war would easily occasion many customs of our early theatres to be silently forgotten. The times when Wright and Downes produced their respective narratives, were by no means times of exactness or curiosity. What they heard, might have been heard imperfectly; it might have been unskilfully related; or their own memories might have deceived them:”

“Ad nos vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura.

“One assertion made by the latter of these writers, is chronologically disproved. We may remark likewise, that in private theatres, a part of the audience was admitted on the stage, but that this licence was refused in the public play-houses. To what circumstance shall we impute this difference between the customs of the one and the other? Perhaps the private theatres had no scenes, the public had; and a crowded stage would prevent them from being commodiously beheld, or conveniently shifted* ^note

. The fresh pictures mentioned by Ben Jonson in the induction to his Cynthia's Revels, might be properly introduced to cover old tapestry; for to hang pictures over faded arras, was then and is still sufficiently common in antiquated mansions, such as those in which the scenes of dramatic writers are often laid. That Shakspeare himself was no stranger to the magic of theatrical ornaments, may be inferred from a passage in which he alludes to the scenery of pageants, the fashionable shews of his time:

“Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish,
“A vapour sometimes like a lion, a bear,
“A towred citadel, a pendent rock,
“A forked mountain, or blue promontory
“With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
“And mock our eyes with air:—these thou hast seen,
“They are black Vesper's pageants* ^note.” Antony and Cleopatra.

“To conclude, the richest and most expensive scenes had been introduced to dress up those spurious children of the muse called Masques; nor have we sufficient reason for believing that Tragedy, her legitimate offspring, continued to be exposed in rags, while appendages more suitable to her dignity were known to be within the reach of our ancient managers. Shakspeare, Burbage, and Condell, must have had frequent opportunities of being acquainted with the mode in which both masques, tragedies, and comedies, were represented in the inns of court, the halls of noblemen, and in the palace itself. Steevens.”

, which appears to

-- 20 --

have been sometimes ornamented with pictures^d ^note: and some passages in our old dramas incline one to think, that

-- 21 --

when tragedies were performed, the stage was hung with black^e ^note

-- 22 --

In the early part, at least, of our author's acquaintance with the theatre, the want of scenery seems to have been supplied

-- 23 --

by the simple expedient of writing the names of the different places where the scene was laid in the progress of

-- 24 --

the play, which were disposed in such a manner as to be visible to the audience^f ^note.

Though the apparatus for theatrick exhibitions was thus scanty, and the machinery of the simplest kind, the invention of trap-doors appears not to be modern; for in an old morality, entitled, All for Money, we find a marginal direction, which implies that they were very early in use^g ^note

It appears from Heywood's Apology for Actors^h ^note, that the covering, or internal roof of the stage, was anciently termed the heavens. It was probably painted of a sky-blue colour; or perhaps pieces of drapery tinged with blue were suspended across the stage, to represent the heavens.

-- 25 --

From a plate prefixed to Kirkman's Drolls, printed in 1672, in which there is a view of a theatrical booth, it should seem that the stage was formerly lighted by two large branches, of a form similar to those now hung in churches. They being, I suppose, found incommodious, as they obstructed the sight of the spectatorsⁱ ^note, gave place in a subsequent period to small circular wooden frames, furnished with candles, eight of which were hung on the stage, four at either side: and these within a few years were wholly removed by Mr. Garrick, who, on his return from France, first introduced the present commodious method of illuminating the stage by lights not visible to the audience.

If all the players whose names are enumerated in the first folio edition of our author's works, belonged to the same theatre, they composed a numerous company; but it is doubtful whether they all performed at the same period, or in the same house^k ^note. Many of the companies, certainly were so thin, that one person played two or three parts^l ^note;

-- 26 --

and a battle on which the fate of an empire was supposed to depend, was decided by half a dozen combatants^m ^note

. It appears to have been a common practice in their mock engagements, to discharge small pieces of ordnance on the stageⁿ ^note

Before the exhibition began, three flourishes or pieces of musick were played, or, in the ancient language, there were three soundings^o ^note

. Musick was likewise played between the acts^p ^note. The instruments chiefly used were trumpets, cornets, and hautboys. The band, which did not consist of more than five or six performers, sat (as I have been told by a very ancient stage veteran, who had his information

-- 27 --

from Bowman, the contemporary of Betterton) in an upper balcony, over what is now called the stage-box.

The person who spoke the prologue, was ushered in by trumpets^q ^note, and usually wore a long black velvet cloak^r ^note

, which, I suppose, was considered as best suited to a supplicatory address. Of this custom, whatever might have been its origin, some traces remained till very lately; a black coat having been, if I mistake not, within these few years, the constant stage-habiliment of our modern prologue-speakers. The dress of the ancient prologue-speaker is still retained in the play that is exhibited in Hamlet, before the king and court of Denmark.

An epilogue does not appear to have been a regular appendage to a play in Shakspeare's time; for many of his dramas had none; at least, they have not been preserved. In All's Well that Ends Well, the Midsummer Night's Dream, As you like It, Troilus and Cressida, and The Tempest, the epilogue is spoken by one of the persons of the drama, and adapted to the character of the speaker; a circumstance that I have not observed in the epilogues of any other author of

-- 28 --

that age. The epilogue was not always spoken by one of the performers in the piece, for that subjoined to The Second Part of King Henry IV. appears to have been delivered by a dancer.

The performers of male characters generally wore periwigs^s ^note

, which in the age of Shakspeare were not in common use. It appears from a passage in Puttenham's Art of English Poesy, 1589, that vizards were on some occasions used by the actors of those days^t ^note; and it may be inferred from a scene in one of our author's comedies, that they were sometimes worn in his time, by those who performed female characters^u ^note. But this, I imagine, was very rare. Some of the female part of the audience likewise appeared in masks^w ^note

-- 29 --

The stage-dresses, it is reasonable to suppose, were much more costly at some theatres than others. Yet the wardrobe of even the king's servants at the Globe and Black-friars, was, we find, but scantily furnished; and our author's dramas derived very little aid from the splendor of exhibition^x ^note

It is well known, that in the time of Shakspeare, and for many years afterwards, female characters were represented by boys or young men. Sir William D'Avenant, in imitation of the foreign theatres, first introduced females in the scene, and Mrs. Betterton is said to have been the first woman that appeared on the English stage. Andrew Pennycuicke played the part of Matilda, in a tragedy of Davenport's, in 1655; and Mr. Kynaston acted several female

-- 30 --

parts after the Restoration. Downes, a contemporary of his, assures us, “that being then very young, he made a complete stage beauty, performing his parts so well, (particularly Arthiope and Aglaura) that it has since been disputable among the judicious, whether any woman that succeeded him, touched the audience so sensibly as he^y ^note.”

Both the prompter, or book-holder, as he was sometimes called, and the property-man, appear to have been regular appendages of our ancient theatres^z ^note.

No writer that I have met with, intimates that, in the time of Shakspeare, it was customary to exhibit more than a single dramatick piece on one day.

The Yorkshire Tragedy, or All's one, indeed, appears to have been one of four pieces that were represented on the same day; and Fletcher has also a piece called Four Plays in One; but probably, these were either exhibited on some particular occasion, or were ineffectual efforts to introduce a new species of amusement; for we do not find any other instances of the same kind. Had any shorter pieces been exhibited after the principal performance, some of them probably would have been printed: but there are none extant of an earlier date than the time of the Restoration. The practice therefore of exhibiting two dramas successively in the same evening, we may be assured, was not established before that period^a ^note. But though the audiences in the time of our author, were not gratified by the representation of more than one drama in the same

-- 31 --

day, the entertainment was diversified, and the populace diverted, by vaulting^b ^note, tumbling, slight of hand, and morris-dancing; a mixture not much more heterogeneous than that with which we are daily presented, a tragedy and a farce.

The amusements of our ancestors, before the commencement of the play, were of various kinds. While some part of the audience entertained themselves with reading^c ^note

, or playing at cards^d ^note, others were employed in less refined occupations; in drinking ale^e ^note, or smoaking tobacco^f ^note

-- 32 --

with these they were furnished by male attendants, of whose clamour, a satirical writer of the time of James I. loudly complains^g ^note

.

It was a common practice to carry table-books^h ^note

to the theatre, and either from curiosity, or enmity to the author, or some other motive, to write down passages of the play that was represented: and there is reason to believe that the imperfect and mutilated copies of some of Shakspeare's dramas, which are yet extant, were taken down in shorthand during the exhibitionⁱ ^note.

-- 33 --

At the end of the piece, the actors, in noblemens' houses and in taverns, where plays were frequently performed^k ^note

, prayed for the health and prosperity of their patrons; and in the publick theatres, for the king and queen^l ^note. This prayer sometimes made part of the epilogue^m ^note. Hence, probably, as Mr. Steevens has observed, the addition of Vivant rex et regina, to the modern play-bills.

Plays in the time of our author, began at one o'clock in the afternoonⁿ ^note

; and the exhibition was usually finished

-- 34 --

in two hours^o ^note. Even in 1667, they commenced at three o'clock^p ^note

When Gosson wrote his School of Abuse in 1579, it seems that dramatick entertainments were usually exhibited on Sundays^q ^note

. Afterwards they were performed on that and other days indiscriminately. From the silence of Prynne on this subject, it has been supposed that the practice of exhibiting plays on the Lord's day was discontinued when he published his Histriomastix, in 1633; but I doubt whether this conjecture be well founded, for it appears from a contemporary writer, that it had not been abolished in the third year of king Charles I^r ^note

.

-- 35 --

It has been a question whether it was formerly a common practice to ride on horseback to the play-house; a circumstance that would scarcely deserve consideration, if it were not in some sort connected with our author's history,^s ^note, a plausible story having been built on this foundation, relative to his first introduction to the stage.

The modes of conveyance to the theatre, anciently, as at present, seem to have been various; some going in coaches^t ^note

, others on horseback^u ^note, and many by water^w ^note

. To the Globe

-- 36 --

playhouse the company probably were conveyed by water^x ^note

; to that in Black-fryars, the gentry went either in coaches^y ^note

, or on

-- 37 --

horseback; and the common people on foot. In an epigram by Sir John Davis, the practice of riding to the theatre is ridiculed as a piece of affectation or vanity; and therefore we may presume it was not very general^z ^note

.

Though from the want of news-papers and other periodical publications, intelligence was not so speedily circulated

-- 38 --

in former times as at present, our ancient theatres do not appear to have laboured under any disadvantage in this respect; for the players printed and exposed accounts of the pieces that they intended to exhibit^a ^note

, which, however, did not contain a complete list of the characters, or the names of the actors by whom they were represented^b ^note

.

The long and whimsical titles that are prefixed to the quarto copies of our author's plays, I suppose to have been transcribed from the play-bills of the time. They were equally calculated to attract the notice of the idle gazer in

-- 39 --

the walks at St. Paul's, or to draw a crowd about some vociferous Autolycus, who perhaps was hired by the players thus to raise the expectations of the multitude. It is indeed highly improbable that the modest Shakspeare, who has more than once apologized for his untutored lines, should in his manuscripts have entitled any of his dramas most excellent and pleasant performances^c ^note

. A contemporary writer has preserved

-- 40 --

something like a play-bill of those days, which seems to corroborate this observation; for if it were divested

-- 41 --

of rime, it would bear no very distant resemblance to the title pages that stand before some of our author's dramas:

“&lblank; Prithee, what's the play?
“(The first I visited this twelvemonth day)
“They say—“A new invented boy of Purle,
“That jeoparded his necke to steale a girl
“Of twelve; and lying fast impounded for't
“Has hither sent his bearde to act his part;
“Against all those in open malice bent,
“That would not freely to the theft consent:
“Faines all to's wish, and in the epilogue
“Goes out applauded for a famous—rogue.”
“—Now hang me if I did not look at first
“For some such stuff, by the fond people's thrust^d ^note.”

It is uncertain at what time the usage of giving authors a benefit on the third day of the exhibition of their piece, commenced. Mr. Oldys, in one of his manuscripts, intimates that dramatick poets had anciently their benefit on the first day that a new play was represented; a regulation which would have been very favourable to some of the ephemeral productions of modern times. But for this there is not, I believe, any sufficient authority. From D'Avenant, indeed, we learn, that in the latter part of the reign of queen Elizabeth, the poet

-- 42 --

had his benefit on the second day^e ^note

. As it was a general practice, in the time of Shakspeare, to sell the copy of the play to the theatre, I imagine, in such cases, an author derived no other advantage from his piece, than what arose from the sale of it. Sometimes, however, he found it more beneficial to retain the copy-right in his own hands; and when he did so, I suppose he had a benefit. It is certain that the giving authors the profits of the third exhibition of their play, which seems to have been the usual mode during almost the whole of the last century, was an established custom in the year 1612; for Decker, in the prologue to one of his comedies, printed in that year, speaks of the poet's third day^f ^note

. The unfortunate Otway had no more than one

-- 43 --

benefit on the production of a new play; and this too, it seems, he was sometimes forced to mortgage, before the piece was acted^g ^note

.

Southerne was the first dramatick writer who obtained the emoluments arising from two representation^h ^note

; and to Farquhar, in the year 1700, the benefit of a third was grantedⁱ ^note. To the honour of Mr. Addison, it should be remembered, that he first discontinued the ancient, but humiliating, practice of distributing tickets, and soliciting company to attend at the theatre, on the poet's nights^k ^note.

When an author sold his piece to the sharers or proprietors of a theatre, it remained for several years unpublished; but, when that was not the case, he printed it for sale, to which many seem to have been induced, from an apprehension that an imperfect copy might be issued from the press without their consent^l ^note. The customary price of the copy of a play, in the time of Shakspeare, appears to have been twenty nobles,

-- 44 --

or six pounds thirteen shillings and four-pence^m ^note

. The play when printed was sold for sixpenceⁿ ^note

; and the usual present

-- 45 --

from a patron, in return for a dedication, was forty shillings^o ^note

On the first day of exhibiting a new play, the prices of admission appear to have been raised^p ^note

; and this seems to have been occasionally practised on the benefit-nights of authors, to the end of the last century^q ^note.

Dramatick poets in those times, as at present, were admitted gratis into the theatre^r ^note

-- 46 --

The custom of passing a final censure on plays at their first exhibition^s ^note, is as ancient as the time of our author; for no less than three plays^t ^note

of his rival, Ben Jonson, appear to have been damned^u ^note

; and Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess^x ^note,

-- 47 --

and The Knight of the Burning Pestle, written by him and Beaumont^y ^note, underwent the same fate.

It is not easy to ascertain what were the emoluments of a successful actor in the time of Shakspeare. They had not then annual benefits, as at present^z ^note. The performers at each theatre seem to have shared the profits arising either from each day's exhibition, or from the whole season, among them^a ^note

. I think it is not unlikely, that the clear emoluments of the theatre, after deducting whatever was appropriated to the proprietors of the house, were divided into one hundred parts, of which the actors had various shares, according to their rank and merit^b ^note

. From Ben Jonson's Poetaster,

-- 48 --

we learn, that one of either the performers or proprietors had seven shares and a half^c ^note

; but of what integral sum is not mentioned.

From the prices of admission into our ancient theatres, which have been already mentioned, I imagine, the utmost that the sharers of the Globe play-house could have received on any one day, was about thirty-five pounds^d ^note. So

-- 49 --

lately as the year 1685, Shadwell received, by his third day, on the representation of The 'Squire of Alsatia, 130£. which Downes the prompter says was the greatest receipt that had been ever taken at Drury-Lane play-house, at single prices^e ^note.

It appears from the Mss. of lord Stanhope, treasurer of the chambers to king James I. that the customary sum paid to John Heminge and his company, for the performance of a play at court, was twenty nobles, or six pounds thirteen shillings and four pence^f ^note. And Edward Alleyn mentions in his Diary, that he once had so slender an audience in his theatre called the Fortune, that the whole receipts of the house amounted to no more than three pounds and some odd shillings^g ^note

Thus scanty and meagre were the apparatus and accommodations of our ancient theatres, on which those dramas

-- 50 --

were first exhibited, that have since engaged the attention of so many learned men, and delighted so many thousand spectators. Yet even then, we are told by a writer of that age^h ^note, “that dramatick poesy was so lively expressed and represented on the publick stages and theatres of this city, as Rome in the auge of her pomp and glory, never saw it better performed; in respect of the action and art, not of the cost and sumptuousness.”

Of the actors on whom this high encomium is pronounced, the original performers in our author's plays were probably the most eminent. The following are the only notices that I have met with, relative to them.

Names of the Original Actors in the Plays of Shakspeare: From the Folio 1623. William Shakspeare. Richard Burbage John Heminge Augustine Philips. William Kempe Thomas Pope. George Bryan. Henry Condell William Sly Richard Cowley John Lowin Samuel Cross. Alexander Cooke. Samuel Gilburne. Robert Armin William Ostler. Nathan. Field. John Underwood. Nicholas Tooley William Ecclestone. Joseph Taylor. Robert Benfield Robert Goughe. Richard Robinson John Shanke John Rice. The Platt¹ ^note

of the Second Parte of the Seven Deadlie Sinns. FINIS.


	^note.
Lieutenant,	Rich. Cowley* ^note.
Pursuivant,	John Duke‡ ^note.
Warder,	R. Pallant.
Gorboduc,	R. Burbage* ^note.
Porrex,	W. Sly* ^note.
Ferrex,	Harry, (i. e. Condell)* ^note.
Lucius,	G. Bryan.
Damasus,	T. Goodale.
Videna, (the Queen)	Saunder (i. e. Alexander Cooke)* ^note
Tereus,	R. Burbage.
Philomela,	R. Pallant.
Panthea,	T. Belt.
Itys,	Will. (perhaps William Shakspeare.)
Julio,	J. Sincler† ^note.
Progne,	Saunder.
Sardanapalus,	Aug. Phillips* ^note.
Arbactus,	Tho. Pope* ^note.
Nicanor,	R. Pallant.
Giraldus,	R. Cowley.
Phronesius,	T. Goodale.
Will. Fool,	J. Duke.
Aspatia,	R. Gough* ^note.
Pompeia,	Ned, (perhaps Edward Alleyn).
Rodope,	Nich. (Nicholas Tooley)* ^note.

. Let me add, that on the whole this paper describes a species of dramatick entertainment of which no memorial is preserved in any annals of the English stage.

Steevens.

-- 66 --

10911002P. 76. How little Shakespeare himself was once read, &c.]

Though no author appears to have been more admired in his lifetime than Shakspeare, at no very distant period after his death, his compositions seem to have been neglected. Jonson had long endeavoured to depreciate him, but he and his partisans were unsuccessful in their efforts; yet about the year 1640, whether from some capricious vicissitude in the publick taste, or from a general inattention to the drama, we find Shirley complaining that no company came to our author's performances.

&lblank; “You see
“What audience we have; what company
“To Shakespeare comes? whose mirth did once beguile
“Dull hours, and buskin'd made even sorrow smile;
“So lovely were the wounds, that men would say
“They could endure the bleeding a whole day;
“He has but few friends lately.” Prologue to The Sisters.9Q1281

After the Restoration, on the revival of the theatres, the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher were esteemed so much superior to those of our author, that we are told by Dryden, “two of their pieces were acted, through the year, for one of Shakspeare's.” If his testimony needed any corroboration, the following lines in a Satire published in 1680, would afford it:

-- 67 --

“At every shop while Shakspeare's lofty stile
“Neglected lies, to mice and worms a spoil,
“Gilt on the back, just smoking from the press,
“The Apprentice shews you D'Urfey's Hudibras,
“Crown's Mask, bound up with Settle's choicest labours,
“And promises some new essay of Babor's.”

See also the prologue to Shirley's Love Tricks, 1667.

“In our old plays the humour, love and passion,
“Like doublet, hose, and cloak, are out of fashion;
“That which the world call'd wit in Shakspeare's age,
“Is laugh'd at, as improper for our stage.”

From the instances mentioned by Mr. Steevens, he appears to have been equally neglected in the time of Queen Anne. During these last fifty years ample compensation has been made to him for the bad taste and inattention of the periods above mentioned.

Malone. 1091100394.

At the end of the translations of Ovid, add:

Ovidius Naso, his Remedie of Love, translated and entituled to the youth of England, 4to. Lond. 1600.

10911004167. &lblank; and their caution against prophaneneness, is in my opinion, the only thing for which we are indebted to the editors of the folio.] I doubt whether we are so much indebted to the judgment of the editors of the folio edition, for their caution against prophaneness, as to the statute 3 Jac. I. c. 21. which prohibits under severe penalties the use of the sacred name in any plays or interludes. This occasioned the playhouse copies to be altered, and they printed from the playhouse copies. &wblank;e. 10911005177. He was received into the company then in being, at first in a very mean rank.] There is a stage tradition that his first office in the theatre was that of prompter's attendant; whose employment it is to give the performers notice to be ready to enter, as often as the business of the play requires their appearance on the stage. Malone. 10911006180. Ten in the hundred lies here engrav'd &lblank;]

In The more the Merrier, containing Threescore and odde headlesse Epigrams, shot (like the Fooles bolts) amongst you, light where they will. By H. P. Gent. &c. 1608, I find the following

-- 68 --

couplet, which is almost the same as the two beginning lines of Shakspeare's Epitaph on John a Combe.

Fæneratoris Epitaphium. Epigram 24.
“Ten in the hundred lies under this stone,
“And a hundred to ten to the Devil he's gone.” Steevens.

So in Camden's Remains, 1614:

“Here lies ten in the hundred
“In the ground fast ramm'd,
“'Tis a hundred to ten
“But his soul is damn'd.” Malone. 10911007181. And curst be he that moves my bones.] It is uncertain whether this epitaph was written by Shakespeare himself, or by one of his friends after his death. The imprecation contained in this last line, might have been suggested by an apprehension that our author's remains might share the same fate with those of the rest of his countrymen, and be added to the immense pile of human bones deposited in the charnel-house at Stratford. This, however, is mere conjecture; for similar execrations are found in many ancient Latin epitaphs. Malone. 10911008204. &lblank; and this was the reason he omitted it.]

Mr. Oldys might have added, that he was the person who suggested to Mr. Pope the singular course which he pursued in his edition of Shakspeare. “Remember (says Oldys in a Ms. note to his copy of Langbaine, Article Shakspeare) what I observed to my Lord Oxford for Mr. Pope's use, out of Cowley's preface.” The observation here alluded to, I believe, is one made by Cowley in his preface, p. 52. edit. 1710. “This has been the case with Shakespeare, Fletcher, Johnson, and many others, part of whose poems I should take the boldness to prune and lop away, if the care of replanting them in print did belong to me; neither would I make any scruple to cut off from some the unnecessary young suckers, and from others the old withered branches.”—Pope adopted this very unwarrantable idea; striking out from the text of his author whatever he did not like: and Cowley himself has suffered a sort of poetical punishment for having suggested it, the learned bishop of Litchfield having pruned and lopped away his beautiful luxuriances, as Pope, on Cowley's suggestion, did those of Shakspeare. Malone.

-- 69 --

Ibid. line 7.]

I have been favoured with the following observations on the tradition here mentioned, by the learned author of The History of English Poetry. Malone.

Antony Wood is the first and original author of the anecdote that Shakspeare, in his journies from Warwickshire to London, used to bait at the Crown-inn on the west side of the corn-market in Oxford. He says, that Davenant the poet was born in that house in 1606. “His father (he adds) John Davenant, was a sufficient vintner, kept the tavern now known by the sign of the Crown, and was mayor of the said city in 1621. His mother was a very beautiful woman, of a good wit and conversation, in which she was imitated by none of her children but by this William [the poet]. The father, who was a very grave and discreet citizen, (yet an admirer and lover of plays and play-makers, especially Shakespeare, who frequented his house in his journies between Warwickshire and London) was of a melancholick disposition, and was seldom or never seen to laugh, in which he was imitated by none of his children but by Robert his eldest son, afterwards fellow of St. John's college, and a venerable Doctor of Divinity.” Wood Ath. Oxon. vol. ii. p. 292. edit. 1692. I will not suppose that Shakspeare could have been the father of a Doctor of Divinity who never laughed: but it was always a constant tradition in Oxford that Shakspeare was the father of Davenant the poet. And I have seen this circumstance expressly mentioned in some of Wood's papers. Wood was well qualified to know these particulars; for he was a townsman of Oxford, where he was born in 1632. Wood says, that Davenant went to school in Oxford. Ubi supr.

As to the Crown-Inn, it still remains as an inn, and is an old decayed house, but probably was once a principal inn in Oxford. It is directly in the road from Stratford to London. In a large upper room, which seems to have been a sort of Hall for entertaining a large company, or for accommodating (as was the custom) different parties at once, there was a bow window, with three pieces of excellent painted glass. About eight years ago, I remember visiting this room, and proposing to purchase of the landlord the painted glass, which would have been a curiosity as coming from Shakspeare's inn. But going thither soon after, I found it was removed; the inn-keeper having communicated my intended bargain to the owner of the house, who began to

-- 70 --

suspect that he was possessed of a curiosity too valuable to be parted with, or to remain in such a place: and I never could hear of it afterwards. If I remember right, the painted glass consisted of three armorial shields beautifully stained. I have said so much on this subject, because I think that Shakspeare's old hostelry at Oxford deserves no less respect than Chaucer's Tabarde in Southwark.

T. Warton. 10911009216. To the Ancient and Modern Commendatory Verses on Shakspeare, add the following: Upon Master William Shakspeare, the deceased authour, and his poems.
Poets are born, not made. When I would prove
This truth, the glad remembrance I must love
Of never-dying Shakspeare, who alone
Is argument enough to make that one.
First, that he was a poet, none would doubt
That heard the applause of what he sees set out
Imprinted; where thou hast (I will not say,
Reader, his works, for, to contrive a play,
To him 'twas none) the pattern of all wit,
Art without art unparallel'd as yet.
Next Nature only help'd him, for look thorough
This whole book* ^note, thou shalt find he doth not borrow
One phrase from Greeks, nor Latins imitate,
Nor once from vulgar languages translate;
Nor plagiary-like from others gleane,
Nor begs he from each witty friend a scene
To piece his acts with: all that he doth write
Is pure his own; plot, language, exquisite.
But O what praise more powerful can we give
The dead, than that, by him, the king's-men live,
His players, which should they but have shar'd his fate,
(All else expir'd within the short term's date)
How could The Globe have prosper'd, since through want
Of change, the plays and poems had grown scant.
But, happy verse, thou shalt be sung and hear'd,
When hungry quills shall be such honour barr'd.

-- 71 --

Then vanish upstart writers to each stage,
You needy poetasters of this age!
Where Shakespeare liv'd or spake, Vermin forbeare,
Left with your froth ye spot them, come not near.
But if you needs must write, if poverty
So pinch, that otherwise you starve and die;
On God's name may the Bull or Cockpit have
Your lame blank verse, to keep you from the grave:
Or let new Fortune's* ^note younger brethren see,
What they can pick from your lean industry.
I do not wonder when you offer at
Black-fryars, that you suffer: 'tis the fate
Of richer veins; prime judgments, that have far'd
The worse, with this deceased man compar'd.
So have I seen, when Cæsar would appear,
And on the stage at half-sword parley were
Brutus and Cassius, O how the audience
Were ravish'd! with what wonder they went thence!
When, some new day, they would not brook a line
Of tedious, though well-labour'd, Catiline;
Sejanus too was irksome; they priz'd more
“Honest” Jago, or the jealous Moor.
And though the Fox and subtil Alchymist,
Long intermitted, could not quite be mist,
Though these have sham'd all th' ancients, and might raise
Their author's merit with a crown of bays,
Yet these sometimes, even at a friend's desire
Acted, have scarce defray'd the sea-coal fire,
And door-keepers: when, let but Falstaff come,
Hal, Poins, the rest,—you scarce shall have a room,
All is so pester'd: Let but Beatrice
And Benedick be seen, lo! in a trice
The cock-pit, galleries, boxes, all are full,
To hear Malvolio that cross-garter'd gull.
Brief, there is nothing in his wit-fraught book,
Whose sound we would not hear, on whose worth look:
Like old-coin'd gold, whose lines, in ev'ry page,
Shall pass true current to succeeding age.

-- 72 --

But why do I dead Shakspeare's praise recite?
Some second Shakspeare must of Shakspeare write;
For me, 'tis needless; since an host of men
Will pay, to clap his praise, to save my pen* ^note. Leon. Digges. An Elegy on the death of that famous writer and actor, M. William Shakspeare.
I dare not do thy memory that wrong,
Unto our larger griefs to give a tongue.
I'll only sigh in earnest, and let fall
My solemn tears at thy great funeral.
For ev'ry eye that rains a show'r for thee,
Laments thy loss in a sad elegy.
Nor is it fit each humble muse should have
Thy worth his subject, now thou'rt laid in grave.
No, it's a flight beyond the pitch of those,
Whose worth-less pamphlets are not sense in prose.
Let learned Jonson sing a dirge for thee,
And fill our orb with mournful harmony:
But we need no remembrancer; thy fame
Shall still accompany thy honour'd name
To all posterity; and make us be
Sensible of what we lost, in losing thee:
Being the age's wonder; whose smooth rimes
Did more reform than lash the looser times.
Nature herself did her own felt admire,
As oft as thou wert pleased to attire
Her in her native lustre; and confess,
Thy dressing was her chiefest comliness.
How can we then forget thee, when the age
Her chiefest tutor, and the widow'd stage
Her only favourite, in thee, hath lost,
And Nature's self, what she did brag of most?
Sleep then rich soul of numbers! whilst poor we
Enjoy the profits of thy legacy;
And think it happiness enough, we have
So much of thee redeemed from the grave,
As may suffice t'enlighten future times
With the bright lustre of thy matchless rimes* ^note.

-- 73 --

In Memory of our famous Shakspeare.
Sacred Spirit, whiles thy lyre
  Echoed o'er the Arcadian plains,
Even Apollo did admire,
  Orpheus wondered at thy strains:
Plautus sigh'd, Sophocles wept
  Tears of anger, for to hear,
After they so long had slept,
  So bright a genius should appear;
Who wrote his lines with a sun-beam,
  More durable than time or fate:—
Others boldly do blaspheme,
  Like those that seem to preach, but prate.
Thou wert truly priest elect,
  Chosen darling of the Nine,
Such a trophy to erect
  By thy wit and skill divine,
That were all their other glories
  (Thine excepted) torn away,
By thy admirable stories
  Their garments ever shall be gay.
Where thy honour'd bones do lie,
  (As Statius once to Maro's urn)
Thither every year will I
  Slowly tread, and sadly mourn. S. Sheppard* ^note. In remembrance of Master William Shakespeare.

Ode.

I.
Beware, delighted poets when you sing
To welcome nature in the early spring,
Your num'rous feet not tread
The banks of Avon; for each flow'r,
As it ne'er knew a sun or show'r,
Hangs there the pensive head.

-- 74 --

II.
Each tree whose thick and spreading growth hath made
Rather a night beneath the boughs than shade,
Unwilling now to grow,
Looks like the plume a captain wears
Whose rifled falls are steep'd i'the tears
Which from his last rage flow.

III.
The piteous river wept itself away
Long since alas! to such a swift decay,
That reach the map, and look
If you a river there can spy,
And, for a river, your mock'd eye
Will find a shallow brook. William Davenant.
In such an age immortal Shakespeare wrote,
By no quaint rules nor hamp'ring criticks taught;
With rough majestick force he mov'd the heart,
And strength and nature made amends for art. Rowe's prologue to Jane Shore. Upon Shakspeare's Monument at Stratford upon Avon.
Great Homer's birth sev'n rival cities claim,
Too mighty such monopoly of fame;
Yet not to birth alone did Homer owe
His wond'rous worth; what Egypt could bestow,
With all the schools of Greece and Asia join'd,
Enlarg'd the immense expansion of his mind:
Nor yet unrival'd the Mæonian strain;
The British Eagle* ^note and the Mantuan Swan
Tow'r equal heights. But, happier Stratford, thou
With incontested laurels deck thy brow;
Thy bard was thine unschool'd, and from thee brought
More than all Egypt, Greece, or Asia taught;
Not Homer's self such matchless laurels won,
The Greek has rivals, but thy Shakspeare none. T. Seward.

-- 75 --

10911010217.

The Epitaph on Shakspeare beginning

“Renowned Spencer lie a thought more nigh”—

is subscribed, in an edition of his poems printed in 1640, with the letters W. B. which I learn from the Ms. notes of Mr. Oldys, were placed for William Basse. I have not found these verses in any edition of Dr. Donne's works.

Malone. 10911011241. line 1.] After 1605. add T. C. for Nathaniel Butter. 10911012Ibid. line 12. from the bottom. The story of this play, &c.] This observation is misplaced. It belongs to the Article Pericles, and should follow the last line but one—“As the shrieve's crusts, &c.” Steevens. 10911013242.

Add to the List of Plays altered from Shakspeare:

The Tempest, made into an opera by Shadwell, in 1673. See Downes, p. 34.

10911014249. Add to the List of detached pieces of critcism, on Shakspeare, his Editors, &c.]

A Word or two of Advice to William Warburton, a Dealer in many words. By a Friend, [Dr. Grey.] With an Appendix containing a taste of William's spirit of railing. 8vo. 1746.

A free and familiar Letter to that great refiner of Pope and Shakspear, the Rev Mr. William Warburton, preacher of Lincoln's Inn. With Remarks upon the Epistle of Friend A. E. In which his unhandsome treatment of this celebrated writer is exposed in the manner it deserves. By a Country Curate [Dr. Grey]. 8vo. 1750.

10911015284.

Add to note ^w:

Since I wrote the above, I have learned that there was an antient play with the title of Jane Shore. “The history of the life and death of Mr. Shore and Jane Shore his wife, as it was lately acted by the Earl of Derbie his servants,” was entered in the Stationer's books by John Oxenbridge and John Busby, Aug. 28, 1599.

This play is likewise mentioned (together with another very ancient piece not now extant) in The Knight of the Burning Pestle, 1613. “I was ne'er at one of these plays before; but I should have seen Jane Shore once; and my husband hath promised me any time this twelvemonth to carry me to the Bold Beauchamps.”

Malone.

-- 76 --

10911016286. Note ^a.] For p. 282, read p. 280. 10911017Ibid. Note ^b, line 11.] For 1599. read 1598. 10911018288. Note ^e.]

Add:

It should likewise be remembered that Verses by Spenser are prefixed to Lewknor's Commonwealth and Government of Venice, printed in 1599.

Malone. 10911019292.

Add to the observations on the Comedy of Errors:

The alternate rhimes that are found in this play, as well as in Love's Labour Lost, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Romeo and Juliet, are a farther proof that these pieces were among our author's earliest dramatick productions. We are told by himself that Venus and Adonis was his first composition. The Rape of Lucrece was probably the next. When he turned his thoughts to the stage, the measure that he had used in these poems, naturally presented itself to him in his first dramatick essays.

Malone. 10911020294. line 17. &lblank; with a few of our trivial translators.]

Add, as a note:

The person whom Nashe had in contemplation in this passage, was, I believe, Thomas Kyd. The only play to which his name is affixed (Cornelia), is a professed translation from the French of Garnier, who imitated Seneca, as did also Kyd.

Malone. 10911021303.

Note ^g. Add, after the words, attempted to be ridiculed:

In The Devil's an Ass, acted in 1616, all his historical plays are obliquely censured.

Meer-er.

“By my faith you are cunning in the chronicles.

Fitz-dot.

“No, I confess, I ha't from the play-books, and think they are more authentick.”

They are again attacked in the Induction to Bartholomew Fair:

“An some writer that I know, had but the penning o' this matter, he would ha' made you such a jig-a-jog i' the booths, you should ha' thought an earthquake had been in the fair. But these master-poets, they will ha' their own absurd courses, they will be informed of nothing.”

The following passage in Cynthia's Revels, 1601, was, I think, likewise pointed against Shakspeare:

“Besides they would wish your poets would leave to be promoters of other mens' jests, and to way-lay all the stale

-- 77 --

apothegms or old books they can hear of, in print or otherwise, to farce their scenes withal:—Again that feeding their friends with nothing of their own, but what they have twice or thrice cooked, they should not wantonly give out how soon they had dress'd it, nor how many coaches came to carry away the broken meat, besides hobby-horses and foot-cloth nags.”

Jonson's plots were all his own invention; our author's chiefly taken from preceding plays or novels. The former employed a year or two in composing a play; the latter probably produced two every year, while he remained in the theatre.

Malone. 10911022304.

In note ^g, towards the end, dele the paragraph,

“In short he was in his personal character, &c.”

This paragraph, I find, is no part of Drummond's character of Ben Jonson. Not having the works of the former when the last impression of Shakspeare went to the press, I relied on the fidelity of the author of Jonson's Life in the Biographia Britannica, who has ascribed to Mr. Drummond what he did not write.

The reader is likewise desired to correct the following expressions in Jonson's character, which the above-mentioned writer of his life had also represented unfaithfully:

For rather chusing, read given rather.

For nothing right but what either himself or some of his friends had done, read, nothing well done but what he himself or some of his friends had said or done.

After the best sayings, add, and deeds.

For being versed in all, read, as being versed in both; and add, oppressed with fancy which overmastered his reason, a general disease in many poets. His inventions, &c.

Malone. 10911023313. Line 13.] For lord Harrington, read lord Stanhope. 10911024Ibid.

line 32. Add

King Henry VIII. not being then published, the fallacy of calling it a new play on its revival, was not easily detected.

Malone. 10911025314. Note ^q. line 6 from the bottom.] For lord Harrington, read lord Stanhope. 10911026320. line 14. &lblank; and highly praises his Venus and Adonis.]

Add as a note on these words:

See the verses alluded to, ante p. 254. note *.

This writer does not seem to have been very scrupulous

-- 78 --

about adopting either the thoughts or expressions of his contemporaries; for in this poem are found two lines taken verbatim from Marston's Insatiate Countess, printed four years before Myrrha the Mother of Adonis, &c.

“Night like a masque was enter'd heaven's great hall,
“With thousand torches ushering the way.”

It appears from B. Jonson's Silent Woman, that W. Barksted was an actor, and was employed in the theatre where our author's plays were represented. He might therefore have performed a part in Measure for Measure, or have seen the copy before it was printed.

Malone. 10911027331. Article, Macbeth.]

To the list of unpublished plays, add the following:

Catiline's Conspiracy, a tragedy—and Captain Mario, a comedy; both by Stephen Gosson.—The True Historie of George Granderburye, as played by the right hon. the Earl of Oxenforde's servants—The Tragedie of Richard Grinvyle, Knight—Jane Shore—The Bold Beauchamps—The Second Part of Sir John Oldcastle—The General—The Toy— The Tell-tale* ^note, a comedy—The Woman's Plot—The Woman's too hard for Him [both acted at court in 1621.]—Fulgius and Lucrelle—The Fool Transformed, a comedy—The History of Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, a tragi-comedy—The Chaste woman against her Will, a comedy—The Tooth Drawer, a comedy—Honour in the End, a comedy—The History of Don Quixote, or the Knight of the Ill-favoured Countenance, a comedy—The Fair Spanish Captive, a tragi-comedy.

Malone. 10911028332. Line 16. Dele the words—“though not printed till 1617.”

-- 79 --

10911029Page 4.] This play must have been written after 1609, when Bermudas was discovered, and before 1614, when Jonson sneers at it in his Bartholomew Fair. In the latter plays of Shakspeare, he has less of pun and quibble than in his early ones. In The Merchant of Venice, he expressly declares against them. This perhaps might be one criterion to discover the dates of his plays. &wblank;e. 109110305. Play the men.]

So, in K. Henry VIII:

“But thou hast forc'd me
“Out of thy honest truth to play the woman.”

Again, in Macbeth:

“O I could play the woman with mine eyes.”

Again, in Scripture, 2 Sam. x. 12: “Be of good courage and let us play the men for our people.”

Malone. 109110317. To follow Mr. Steevens's note ¹.] Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634:
“Up with a course or two, and tack about boys.” Malone. 1091103218. Pro. Now I arise.]

Why does Prospero arise? Or, if he does it to ease himself by change of posture, why need he interrupt his narrative to tell his daughter of it? Perhaps these words belong to Miranda, and we should read:

Mir.
Would I might
But ever see that man!—Now I arise. Pro.
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea sorrow.

Prospero in page 11. had directed his daughter to sit down, and learn the whole of this history; having previously by some magical charm disposed her to fall asleep. He is watching

-- 80 --

the progress of this charm; and in the mean time tells her a long story, often asking her whether her attention be still awake. The story being ended (as Miranda supposes) with their coming on shore, and partaking of the conveniences provided for them by the loyal humanity of Gonzalo, she therefore first expresses a wish to see the good old man, and then observes that she may now arise, as the story is done. Prospero, surprised that his charm does not yet work, bids her sit still; and then enters on fresh matter to amuse the time, telling her (what she knew before) that he had been her tutor, &c. But soon perceiving her drowziness coming on, he breaks off abruptly, and leaves her still sitting to her slumbers. &wblank;e.

Ibid.

And now I pray you, Sir,
For still 'tis beating in my mind &lblank;]

I believe our author wrote:

For still 'tis beating on my mind &lblank;

So, in the The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634:

“This her mind beats on.”

The allusion seems to be to the waves of the sea beating on the shore.”

Malone. 1091103322. Past the mid season.] Mr. Upton proposes to regulate this passage differently: Ariel.
Past the mid season, at least two glasses. Prosp.
The time, &c. 1091103424. To do me business.]

I suspect that Shakspeare wrote &lblank;

To do my business.

There is good ground for supposing that the person who transcribed these plays for the press, trusted to his ear and not to his eye; another dictating what he wrote.—My, as it is frequently pronounced, is undistinguishable from me.

Malone. 1091103529. &lblank; I have us'd thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care.]

The first folio reads, perhaps rightly:

&lblank; with humane care.

It must however be acknowledged that this was the old way of spelling human.

Malone.

-- 81 --

1091103631. note ⁶.] Race and raciness in wine, signifies a kind of tartness. &wblank;e. 1091103734. Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark! now I hear them,—Ding, dong bell.
Burden, ding dong.]

So, in The Golden Garland of Princely Delight, &c. 13th edition, 1690:

“Corydon's doleful knell to the tune of Ding, dong.”
  “I must go seek a new love,
    “Yet will I ring her knell,
      Ding, dong.”

The same burthen to a song occurs in the Merchant of Venice, p. 192.

Steevens. 1091103843. Widow Dido.] Perhaps there is here an allusion to some old ballad. In the Pepysian Collection at Magdalen College in Cambridge, there is a ballad to the tune of Queen Dido. Malone. 10911039Ibid. Note ⁴. Which was acted before queen Elizabeth in 1594.] Queen Elizabeth was not at Cambridge in 1594;— she was there in 1564. But the play of Dido, then performed before her majesty, was not that written by Marlowe and Nashe. See a note on the words—The rugged Pyrrhus, &c. in Hamlet, post. Malone. 1091104045. But rather lose her to an African.]

The old copy reads: —loose her—which may be right. So, in Hamlet:

“At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him.” Ibid. &lblank; to wet the grief on't.]

I suspect the author wrote:

Who hath cause to whet the grief on't.

Whet and wet are often confounded in pronunciation.

Malone. 1091104147. You are gentlemen of brave metal.]

This is the reading of the old copy; but mettle and metal are frequently confounded in the first folio.

The epithet brave, shews, I think, clearly, that we ought to read:

You are gentlemen of brave mettle. Malone. 1091104249. I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
Trebles thee o'er.] This passage is represented to me as an obscure one. The meaning of it seems to be—You must put on more than your usual seriousness, if you are disposed to pay a proper attention

-- 82 --

to my proposal; which attention if you bestow, it will in the end make you thrice what you are. Sebastian is already brother to the throne; but being made a king by Antonio's contrivance, would be (according to our author's idea of greatness) thrice the man he was before. In this sense he would be trebled o'er. So, in Pericles, 1609:
“&lblank; the master calls
“And trebles the confusion.”

Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634:

“&lblank; thirds his own worth.” Steevens. 1091104364. Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish.] It should be remembered, that trenchers, which, in the time of our author, were generally used, were cleansed by scraping only, and were never washed. They were scraped daily, till they were entirely worn away. This practice is again alluded to in Romeo and Juliet: “Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!” White. 1091104467 Beyond all limit of what else i' the world.]

I once thought that we should read:

&lblank; of aught else i' the world.

but what else is right. So in K. Henry VI. P. III:

“With promise of his sister and what else,
“To strengthen and support king Edward's place.” Malone. 10911045Ibid. I am your wife &c.]
“Si tibi non cordi fuerant connubia nostra,
“Attamen in vestras potuisti ducere sedes,
“Quæ tibi jucundo famularer serva labore,
“Candida permulcens liquidis vestigia lymphis,
“Purpureave tuum consternens veste cubile.” Catul. 62. Malone. 1091104673. This is the tune of our catch, play'd by the picture of nobody.] A ridiculous figure, sometimes represented on signs. Westward for Smelts, a book which our author appears to have read, was printed for John Trundle in Barbican, at the signe of the No-body. Malone. 1091104777. Each putter out on five for one.]

The old copy has:

&lblank; of five for one.

I believe the words are only transposed, and that the author wrote:

Each putter out of one for five.

So, in The Scourge of Folly, by J. Davies of Hereford, printed about the year 1611:

-- 83 --

“Sir Solus straight will travel, as they say,
“And gives out one for three, when home comes he.” Malone. 1091104879. To follow Mr. Steevens's note.] The word is also used by John Davies of Hereford, in his Scourge of Folly, printed about the year 1611:
“Then here's a dowle, and there's a dab of fat,
“Which as unhandsome hangs about his ears.” Malone. 10911049Ibid. &lblank; whose wraths to guard you from,] The meaning, which is somewhat obscured by the expression, is,—a miserable fate, which nothing but contrition and amendment of life can avert. Malone. 1091105082. &lblank; a third of mine own life.]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note, p. 83.—I meet the same thought in Tancred and Gismund, a tragedy, 1592. Tancred, speaking of his intention to kill his daughter, says:

“Against all law of kinde, to shred in twaine
“The golden threede that doth us both maintaine.”

Again, ibid:

“But Nature that hath lock'd within thy breast
“Two lives, the same inclineth me to spare
“Thy blood, and so to keep mine own unspilt.” Malone. 1091105183. Do not smile at me, that I boast her off.]

The old copy reads:

&lblank; that I boast her of.

I suspect that the words were accidentally transposed at the press, and would read:

&lblank; that I boast of her.

So, in the last act of this play, hang on them this line, is printed instead of hang them on this line.

I know no such phrase as to boast off.

Malone. 1091105288. High queen of state.] The first folio (the only authentick copy of this play) reads:
Highest queen of state. Malone. 1091105389. Harmonious charmingly.] A similar inversion occurs in A Midsummer Night's Dream:
“But miserable most to live unlov'd.” Malone. 1091105491. And like an unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.] To feel the justice of this comparison, and the propriety of the epithet, the nature of these exhibitions should be remembered. The ancient English pageants were shows exhibited

-- 84 --

on the reception of a prince, or any other solemnity of a similar kind. They were presented on occasional stages erected in the streets. Originally they appear to have been nothing more than dumb shows; but before the time of our author, they had been enlivened by the introduction of speaking personages, who were characteristically habited. The speeches were in verse; and as the procession moved forward, the speakers, who constantly bore some allusion to the ceremony, either conversed together in the form of a dialogue, or addressed the noble person whose presence occasioned the celebrity. On these allegorical spectacles, very costly ornaments were bestowed. So early as in the reign of king Henry VI. in a pageant presented on that monarch's triumphal entry into London, after his coronation at Paris, the Seven Liberal Sciences, personified, were introduced in a tabernacle of curious worke, from whence their queen, Dame Sapience, spoke verses. At entering the city, he was met and saluted in metre by three ladies (the dames Nature, Grace and Fortune) richly cladde in golde and silkes, with coronets, who suddenly issued from a stately tower, hung with the most splendid arras. See Fabian. Chron. tom. II. fol. 382. Warton's Hist. of Eng. Poet. vol. II. p. 190. 202. Malone. 10911055Ibid. Leave not a rack behind; we are such stuff
As dreams are made of.]

After note ⁶.

Track, I am persuaded, was the author's word.

Rack is generally used for a body of clouds, or rather for the course of clouds in motion; so, in Antony and Cleopatra:

“That which is now a horse, even with a thought,
“The rack dislimns.”

But no instance has yet been produced where it is used to signify a single small fleeting cloud, in which sense only it is at all applicable here.

The stanza which immediately precedes the lines quoted by Mr. Steevens from lord Sterline's Darius, may serve still farther to confirm the conjecture that one of these poets imitated the other:

“And when the eclipse comes of our glory's light,
“Then what avails the adoring of our name?
“A mere illusion made to mock the sight,
“Whose best was but the shadow of a dream.” Malone. 1091105695. And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers: &lblank;]

-- 85 --

Shakspeare, when he wrote this description, perhaps recollected what the great lord Essex, in an hour of discontent, said of queen Elizabeth: “that she grew old and canker'd, and that her mind was become as crooked as her carcase”—a speech, which, according to Sir Walter Raleigh, cost him his head, and which, we may therefore suppose, was at that time much talked of. This play being manifestly written in the time of king James, these obnoxious words might be safely repeated. Malone. 10911057101. Ye elves of hills &c.]

To follow Dr. Farmer's note.

Whoever will take the trouble of comparing this whole passage with Medea's speech as translated by Golding, will see evidently that Shakspeare copied the translation, and not the original. The particular expressions that seem to have made an impression on his mind, are printed in Italicks:

“Ye ayres and windes, ye elves of hills, of brookes, of woodes alone,
“Of standing lakes and of the night, approche ye everych one.
“Through help of whom (the crooked bankes much wondering at the thing)
“I have compelled streames to run clean backward to their spring.
“By charms I make the calm sea rough, and make the rough seas playne,
“And cover all the skie with clouds, and chase them thence again.
“By charmes I raise and lay the windes, and burst the viper's jaw,
“And from the bowels of the earth both stones and trees do draw.
“Whole woods and forrests I remove, I make the mountains shake,
“And even the earth itself to groan and fearfully to quake.
“I call up dead men from their graves, and thee, O lightsome moone,
“I darken oft, though beaten brass abate thy peril soone.
“Our sorcerie dimmes the morning faire, and darks the sun at noone.
“The flaming breath of fierie bulles ye quenched for my sake,
“And caused their unwieldy neckes the bended yoke to take.
“Among the earth-bred brothers you a mortal warre did set,
“And brought asleep the dragon fell, whose eyes were never shet.” Malone.

-- 86 --

10911058Ibid. &lblank; by whose aid,
(Weak masters though ye be) That is; ye are powerful auxiliaries, but weak if left to yourselves; —your employment is then to make green ringlets, and midnight mushrooms, and to play the idle pranks mentioned by Ariel in his next song;—yet by your aid I have been enabled to invert the course of nature. We say proverbially, “Fire is a good servant, but a bad master.” &wblank;e. 10911059102. &lblank; boil'd within thy skull.] The old copy reads —boil. Perhaps the passage ought to be regulated thus:
“A solemn air, and the best comforter,
“To an unsettled fancy's cure!—Thy brains,
“Now useless, boil within thy skull; there stand,
“For you are spell-stop'd.” Malone. 10911060111. &lblank; with beating on
The strangeness &lblank;]

The same phrase is found in the Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634:

“This her mind beats on.”

The Jailor's daughter, whose mind was disordered, is the person spoken of.

A kindred expression occurs in Hamlet:

“Cudgel thy brains no more about it.” Malone. 10911061121. To follow Dr. Farmer's note.] Only the first part of the Diana of Montemayor was translated by Thomas Wilson, as I learn from a Ms. of Mr. Oldys. The story which is supposed to have been imitated by Shakspeare in this play, is in the second part. Malone. 10911062128. I a lost mutton &c.] Add to my note.—This appellation seems to have been as old as the time of king Henry III. “Item sequitur gravis pœna corporalis, sed sine amissione vitæ vel membrorum, si raptus fit de concubina legitima, vel aliâ quæstum faciente, sine delectu personarum: has quidem oves debet rex tueri pro pace suâ.” Bracton de Legibus, lib. ii. Malone.

-- 87 --

10911063135. You have a month's mind.] In my note, for remonstrance, read remembrance. Johnson. 10911064Ibid. To follow Johnson's note:] In Hampshire, and other western countries, for “I can't remember it,” they say, “I can't mind it.” &wblank;e. 10911065141. Val. Not mine, my gloves are on.
Speed. Why then, this may be yours; for this is but one.]

It appears from this passage, that the word one was anciently pronounced as if it were written on. Hence, probably, the mistake in a passage in K. John, where we meet in the old copy, “&lblank; sound on unto the drowsy” &c. instead of, “&lblank; sound one” &c.

The quibble here is lost by the change of pronunciation; a loss, however, which may be very patiently endured.

Malone. 10911066149. Line ult.]

Print thus:

Now come I to my mother (oh, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman:

Perhaps the humour would be heightened by reading: (oh, that the shoe could speak now!) &wblank;e.

10911067154. For Valentine, I need not cite him to it.] It should be printed:—'cite—i. e. incite. Malone. 10911068182. Trenched in ice.] Add to note ⁸.—Again, in Macbeth:
“With twenty trenched gashes on his head.” Malone. 10911069183. Therefore as you unwind her love from him.] The same phrase occurs in Webster's Dutchess of Malsy, 1623:
“You shall see me wind my tongue about his heart,
“Like a skeine of silk.” Malone. 10911070184. That may discover such integrity.] Perhaps the author wrote:—much integrity. Malone. 10911071185. Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet concert: to their instruments,
Tune a deploring dump;]

The old copy reads:

With some sweet consort &lblank;

I believe, rightly. The words immediately following, “&lblank; to their instruments,” shew, I think, that by consort was meant, a band or company of musicians. So, in Massinger's Fatal Dowry, a tragedy, 1632:

“Rom.
By your leave, sirs! “Aym.
Are you a consort? “Rom.
Do you take me for a fidler?”

-- 88 --

Again, in our author's Romeo and Juliet:

“Tyb.
Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo. “Mer.
Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels?”

Thurio's next speech confirms this interpretation:

“Let us into the city presently,
“To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in musick.” Malone. 10911072188. &lblank; awful men.]

Surely, awful, in the passage produced by Mr. Tyrwhitt, is an error of the press. I cannot help thinking the same also of the word introduced into the text here.

The old reading, however, may perhaps receive some support from a passage in Vittoria Corombona, a tragedy, by Webster, 1612:

“It is a wonder to your noble friends
“That you &lblank;
“&lblank; should in your prime age
“Neglect your awful throne.” Malone. 10911073Ibid. An heir and niece ally'd unto the duke.]

Mr. Theobald is often unfaithful in his account of the old copies. The first folio does not read An heir &c. but exhibits the line thus:

And heir and neece alide unto the duke.

I believe Shakspeare wrote:

An heir, and near ally'd unto the duke.

Near was anciently spelt neere; so that there is only the variation of one letter.

Malone. 10911074194. But, since your falsehood, shall become you well &lblank;] I incline strongly to Dr. Johnson's emendation. Falshood and false it, when indistinctly pronounced, are so like, that the transcriber's ear might easily have deceived him. Malone. 10911075199. It seems you lov'd not her to leave her token:]

To leave, seems to be here used for, to part with. It is used with equal licence, in a former place in this play, for to cease:

“&lblank; I leave to be,
“If I be not by her fair influence
“Foster'd.” &lblank;

The reading in the text is that of the second folio.

Malone. 10911076210. O 'tis the curse of love and still approv'd.] Approv'd is felt, experienced. Malone. 10911077211. Thou common friend that's without faith or love;] That's, is here used for id est, that is to say. Malone.

-- 89 --

10911078212. &lblank; and that my love &c.] Transfer these two lines to the end of Thurio's second speech in page 214, and all is right. Why then should Julia faint? It is only an artifice, seeing Silvia given up to Valentine, to discover herself to Protheus, by a pretended mistake of the rings. One great fault of this play is the hastening too abruptly, and without due preparation, to the denoüement, which shews that, if it be Shakspeare's, (which I cannot doubt) it was one of his very early performances. &wblank;e. 10911079219. To follow Dr. Johnson's note.]

A passage in the first sketch of the Merry Wives of Windsor, shews, I think, that it ought rather to be read between the First and the Second Part of King Henry IV. in the latter of which young Henry becomes king. In the last act, Falstaff says:

“Herne the hunter, quoth you? am I a ghost?
“'Sblood the fairies hath made a ghost of me.
“What hunting at this time of night!
“I'le lay my life the mad prince of Wales
“Is stealing his father's deare.”

The Fishwife's Tale of Brainford in Westward for Smelts, a book which Shakspeare appears to have read, (having borrowed from it part of the fable of Cymbeline) probably led him to lay the scene of Falstaff's love-adventures at Windsor. It begins thus: “In Windsor not long agoe dwelt a sumpterman, who had to wife a verie faire but wanton creature, over whom, not without cause, he was something jealous; yet had he never any proof of her inconstancy.”

Malone. 10911080224. To follow Dr. Grey's note.] By the council is only meant the court of star-chamber, composed chiefly of the king's council sitting in Camera stellata, which took cognizance of atrocious riots. In the old 4to, “the council shall know it,” follows immediately after “I'll make a star-chamber matter of it.” &wblank;e. 10911081225. Mistress Ann Page, she has brown hair, and speaks small like a woman.] Dr. Warburton has found more pleasantry here than I believe was intended. Small was, I think, not

-- 90 --

used in an ambiguous sense, but simply for weak, slender, feminine; and the only pleasantry of the passage seems to be, that poor Slender should characterize his mistress by a general quality belonging to her whole sex. In The Midsummer Night's Dream, Quince tells Flute, who objects to playing a woman's part, “You shall play it in a mask, and you may speak as small as you will.” Malone. 10911082227. After Warton's note.] The Cotswold hills in Gloucestershire are a large tract of downs, famous for their fine turf, and therefore excellent for coursing. I believe there is no village of that name. &wblank;e. 10911083237. I have seen Sackerson loose.] Sacarson was the name of a bear that was exhibited in our author's time at Paris Garden. See an old collection of Epigrams [by Sir John Davis] printed at Middlebourg (without date, but in or before 1598):
“Publius a student of the common law,
“To Paris garden doth himself withdraw—
“—Leaving old Ployden, Dyer and Broke alone,
“To see old Harry Hunkes and Sacarson.” Malone. 10911084240. Add to my note ³.] Again, in News from Hell, brought by the Devil's Carrier, by Thomas Decker, 1606: “&lblank; the leane-jaw'd Hungarian would not lay out a penny pot of sack for himself.” Steevens. 10911085242. He hath study'd her will.]

Shakspeare, I believe, wrote:

He hath studied her well.

So I find the quarto reads.

Malone. 10911086244. Bear you these letters tightly.] Rightly, the reading of the quarto, appears to me much better. Malone. 10911087253. You shall have ann-fool's head]

Mrs. Quickly, I believe, intends a quibble between ann, sounded broad, and one, which was formerly pronounced on. In the Scottish dialect one is written, and I suppose, pronounced, ane.

In 1603, was published Ane verie excellent and delectable Treatise intitulit Philotus &c.

In act II. sc. i. of this play, an seems to have been misprinted for one: “What an unweigh'd behaviour &c.” The mistake there probably arose from the similarity of the sounds.

Malone. 10911088Ibid. But I detest, an honest maid, as ever broke bread.] Dame Quickly means to say—I protest. Malone.

-- 91 --

10911089259. After Steevens's first note.]

These knights will hack (that is, become cheap and vulgar) and therefore she advises her friend not to sully her gentry by becoming one. The whole of this discourse about knighthood is added since the first edition of this play; and therefore I suspect this is an oblique reflection on the prodigality of James I. in bestowing these honours, and erecting in 1611, a new order of knighthood, called Baronets; which few of the ancient gentry would condescend to accept. See Sir Hugh Spelman's epigram on them, Gloss. p. 76, which ends thus:

    “&lblank; dum cauponare recusant
  “Ex vera geniti nobilitate viri;
“Interea e caulis hic prorepit, ille tabernis,
  “Et modo sit dominus, qui modo servus erat.”

See another stroke at them in Othello, vol. X. p. 553.

To hick and to hack, in Mrs. Quickly's language, signifies to stammer or hesitate, as boys do in saying their lessons.

&wblank;e. 10911090262. He loves thy gallymaufry]

The folio reads:

He loves the gallymaufry &lblank;

which may be right.—He loves a medley; all sorts of women, high and low, &c.

Ford's reply—love my wife—may refer to what Pistol had said before: “Sir John affects thy wife.”

Malone. 10911091267. I would have nothing lie on my head.] Here seems to be an allusion to Shakspeare's favourite topick, the cuckold's horns. Malone. 10911092269. Have with you mine host.]

This speech is given in all the editions to Shallow; but it belongs, I think, to Ford, to whom the host addresses himself when he says: “Will you go and hear us?” It is not likely he should address himself to Shallow, because Shallow and he had already concerted the scheme, and agreed to go together; and accordingly, Shallow says, a little before, to Page, “Will you go with us to behold it?”

The former speech of Ford—None I protest &c. is given in like manner, in the first folio, to Shallow, instead of Ford. The editors corrected the one, but over-looked the other.

Malone. 10911093271. &lblank; his wife's frailty &lblank;] His wife's frailty is the same as his frail wife. So, in Antony and Cleopatra, we meet death and honour, for an honourable death. Malone.

-- 92 --

10911094285. &lblank; to lay an amiable siege.] i. e. a siege of love. Malone. 10911095Ibid. She's too bright to be look'd against.]
“Nimium lubricus aspici.” Hor. Malone. 10911096306. To follow Mr. Steevens's note.] The story of Ben Jonson and young Raleigh could not have been here alluded to by Shakspeare; for Sir Walter Raleigh's eldest son was born in 1595, and consequently was not above six years old when this play was written. This incident is in the first sketch of this comedy, printed in 1602. Malone. 10911097310. Thou art a traitor to say so.] The folio reads:
Thou art a tyrant to say so. Malone. 10911098Ibid. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not; Nature is thy friend.] The first and second folio read:—I see what thou wert if Fortune thy foe were not Nature thy friend.—I understand neither. Malone. 10911099Ibid. &lblank; like Buckler's bury in simple-time.] (After Mr. Steevens's note.) So, in Decker's Westward Hoe, a comedy, 1607: “Go into Buckler's bury, and fetch me two ounces of preserved melounes, look there be no tobacco taken in the shop when he weighs it.” Again, in the same play: “Run into Buckler's bury for two ounces of dragon water, some spermaceti, and treacle.” Malone. 10911100313. And of the season too it shall appear.]

I would point differently:

And of the season too;—it shall appear.

Ford seems to allude to the cuckold's horns. So afterwards: “And so buffets himself on the forehead, crying, peer out, peer out.” Malone.

10911101318. Add to my note ⁴.] Again, in The First Part of the Eighth liberal Science, entituled, Ars Adulandi &c. devised and compiled by Ulpian Fulwel, 1676: “&lblank; yea, even their very dogs, Rug, Rig, and Risbie, yea, cut and long-taile they shall be welcome.” Steevens. 10911102330. &lblank; he so takes on &lblank;] After Dr. Johnson's note.— It is likewise used for to rage, by Nashe, in Pierce Pennilesse his Supplication, &c. 1592: “Some will take on like a madman, if they see a pig come to table.” Malone. 10911103331. But what make you here?]

An obsolete expression for what do you here. So, in Othello:

“Ancient, what makes he here?”

Again, in Vittoria Corombona, a tragedy, by Webster, 1612:

“What make you here, my lord, this dead of night?” Malone.

-- 93 --

10911104Ibid. &lblank; an abstract.] i. e. a short note or description. So, in Hamlet:
“The abstract, and brief chronicle of the times.” Malone. 10911105333. &lblank; youth in a basket.]

Ford imagined that Falstaff was in the basket, who was no youth, but on the contrary, as Mrs. Page describes him, falling to pieces with age.

I would read: You i' the basket! (come forth! being understood).

Malone. 10911106342. With some diffused song.] (After Mr. Steevens's note.) It is not Edgar, but Kent, that in King Lear talks of borrowing accents that may defuse his speech. Malone. 10911107352. The better to devote her to the doctor.]

(After Mr. Steevens's note.) Surely we not only may, but ought, to read—denote. In the folio 1623, the word is exhibited thus:—deuote. It is highly probable that the n was reversed at the press. So, in Much ado about Nothing, we meet: “He is turu'd orthographer”—instead of turn'd. Again, in The Winter's Tale:

“Louely apart &lblank;” for “Lonely apart.”

Again, in Hamlet, quarto, 1605, we meet this very word put by an error of the press for denote:

“Together with all forms, modes, shapes of grief,
“That can deuote me truly.”

Again, in Othello: “&lblank; to the contemplation, mark and deuotement of her parts”—instead of denotement. Again, in All's Well that Ends Well, act I. “&lblank; the mystery of your loueliness,” instead of loneliness. Again, in K. John: “This expeditious charge,” instead of—“This expedition's charge.” Again, ib. “involuerable,” for—“involnerable.” Again, in K. Henry V. act III. sc. vi. “Leuity and cruelty,” for “Lenity and cruelty.”

Malone. 10911108363. Vile worm &lblank;] Add to my note.—Again, in Pasquil's Night-cap, a poem, 1623:
“&lblank; but this is too, too vild
“She knows not who is father to her child.” Malone.

-- 94 --

10911109Page 6. &lblank; the terms] Terms mean the technical language of the courts. An old book called Les Termes de la Ley, (written in Henry the Eighth's time) was in Shakspeare's days, and is now, the accidence of young students in the law. &wblank;e. 1091111016. What has be done.]

(Add to my note)

“The strumpet with the stranger will not do,
“Before the room be clear and door put to.”

Ovid's Elegies, translated by Marlowe; printed at Middlebourg [no date.]

Again, ibid.

“But when I die, would I might droop with doing.”

Again, ibid.

“A white wench thralls me, so doth golden yellow,
“And nut-browne girles in doing have no fellow.”

Again, in our author's Winter's Tale:

“&lblank; They would do that,
“Which should undo more doing.”

Again, in Fletcher's Spanish Curate:

“Leand.
Do, lady,
“Do, happy lady. “Amand.
All your mind's of doing;
“You must be modester.” Collins. 1091111117. In a peculiar river.] i. e. a river belonging to an individual; not publick property. Malone. 1091111219. The words of heaven;—on whom it will, it will &lblank;
On whom it will not, so;—yet still 'tis just.] After Mr. Steevens's note.—The very ingenious emendation proposed by Dr. Roberts, is yet more strongly supported by another passage in the play before us, where this phrase occurs, [act III. sc. last]:
“He who the sword of heaven will bear,
“Should be as holy, as severe.” Malone.

-- 95 --

1091111320. Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness;] To follow Dr. Johnson's note.—Fault, I apprehend, does not refer to any enormous act done by the deputy, but to newness. The fault and glimpse is the same as the faulty glimpse. And the meaning seems to be—whether it be the fault of newness, a fault arising from the mind being dazled by a novel authority, of which the new governour has yet had only a glimpse; has yet only taken a hasty survey. Shakspeare has many similar expressions. Malone. 1091111421. &lblank; But this new governour
Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall,
So long &lblank;
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me.]

Lord Strafford, in the conclusion of his Defence in the House of Lords, had, perhaps, these lines in his thoughts:

“It is now full two hundred and forty years since any man was touched for this alledged crime, to this height, before myself.—Let us rest contented with that which our fathers have left us; and not awake those sleeping lions, to our own destruction, by raking up a few musty records, that have lain so many ages by the walls, quite forgotten and neglected.” Malone.

10911115Ibid. &lblank; her approbation.]

i. e. enter on her probation, or noviciate. So again, in this play:

“I, in probation of a sisterhood.”—

Again, in The Merry Devil of Edmonton, 1608:

“Madam, for a twelvemonth's approbation,
“We mean to make the trial of our child.” Malone. 1091111622. A prone and speechless dialect.] Prone is used here for prompt. So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece, 1594:
“O that prone lust should stain so pure a bed!” Malone. 10911117Ibid. &lblank; lost at a game of tick-tack.] Tick-tack is a game at tables. Jouer au tric-trac is used in French, in a wanton sense. Malone. 1091111824. Which for these nineteen years we have let sleep.]

Add to my note.—The two readings which Mr. Theobald has introduced into the text, he might have found in an alteration of this play, published in 1700, by Charles Gildon, under the title of Measure for Measure, or Beauty the best Advocate:

-- 96 --

“We have strict statutes and sharp penal laws,
“Which I have suffer'd nineteen years to sleep.”

And he might have supported the latter by the following passage in Hamlet:

“&lblank; How stand I then,
“That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
“Excitements of my reason and my blood,
“And let all sleep?” Malone. 1091111927. For that, which, if myself might be his judge, &lblank;] These words seem to have been transposed by accident at the press. I would read:—That for which— Malone. 1091112031. Has censur'd him already.]

I would wish to read:

He has censur'd him already.

Which according to the old fashion was written:

H' as censur'd &c. Malone. 1091112149. But here they live to end.]

So the old copy. Is it not probable that the authot wrote:

But where they live to end.

The prophecy is not, that future evils should end ere or before they are born; or in other words, that there should be no more evil in the world; (as Sir T. Hanmer by his alteration seems to have understood it) but, that they should end where they began; i. e. with the criminal, who being punished for his first offence, could not proceed by successive degrees in wickedness, nor excite others, by his impunity, to vice.

So, in the next speech:

“And do him right, that answ'ring this foul wrong,
“Lives not to act another.”

It is more likely that a letter should have been omitted at the press, than that one should have been added. Malone.

10911122Ibid. After Mr. Steevens's note ³.—Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634:
“Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continually,
“Thou art not worthy life.” Malone. 1091112350. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:] After Dr. Johnson's note.—The reading of the old copy is confirmed by a passage in Act V.
“&lblank; If he had so offended,
“He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
“And not have cut him off.” Malone.

-- 97 --

1091112458. Whilst my intention &lblank;] Invention is the reading of both the first and second folio. Malone. 10911125Ibid. Heaven is in my mouth,]

The old copy reads:

Heaven in my mouth,

i. e. heaven being in my mouth,

I do not see any need of change.

Malone. 1091112659. &lblank; Blood thou art but blood.] But has been introduced by some of the modern editors. It is not in either the first or second folio. Malone. 1091112762. Note ⁶.]

Add, after the passage quoted from Timon— Again, in The Winter's Tale:

“As rank as any flax-wench that puts to,
“Before her troth-plight.”

Add, at the end of the note:

Means, I suppose, is here used for medium or object.

Moulds, however, if the passage be corrupt, (which I do not believe to be the case) is a very likely word to have stood here. So, in Coriolanus:

“&lblank; the honour'd mould
“Wherein this trunk was fram'd.”

Again, in K. Richard II.

“&lblank; that bed, that womb
“That mettle, that self-same mould that fashioned thee,
“Made him a man.”

Again, in K. Lear:

“Crack Nature's moulds, all germins spill at once,
“That make ingrateful man!” Malone. 1091112866. But in the loss of question.]

Add to my note.—So, in Melvil's Memoirs, 1683: “Having toss'd some words upon this matter, she being desirous of an honest colour or pretext, appeared the more readily satisfied in that point.”

Question is here used, as in many other places, for conversation.

Malone. 1091112971. That none but fools would keep:]

Mr. Steevens's explanation is confirmed by a passage in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623:

“Of what is't fools make such vain keeping?
“&lblank; Their life a general mist of error,
“Their death a hideous storm of terror.”

Keeping is there apparently used for account, estimation.

Again, in the translation of Lucan's Pharsalia, by Sir A. Gorges, 1614:

“She takes no keepe of Augurs' skill.”—

-- 98 --

Again, in Gower de Confessione Amantis, edit. 1554, fol. 188.

“The king, whiche thereof toke good kepe”—

See the Glossary to the late edit. of the Canterbury Tales of Chaucer, v kepe.

Malone. 1091113072. &lblank; a breath thou art,
Servile to all the skiey influences,
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,
Hourly afflict &lblank;] The editors have changed [dost] to [do] without necessity or authority. The construction is not, “the skiey influences, that do,” but, “a breath thou art, that dost &c.” If the second line be inclosed in a parenthesis, all the difficulty will vanish. Porson. 1091113177. After Steevens's second note.]

I would point the lines thus:

Claud.

Now, sister, what's the comfort?

Isab.

Why, as all comforts are, most good. Indeed lord Angelo &c.

Indeed is the same as in truth, or truly, the common beginning of speeches in Shakspeare's age. See Charles the First's Trial. The king and Bradshaw seldom say any thing without this preface: “Truly, Sir &lblank;.”

&wblank;e. 1091113278. Though all the world's vastidity &lblank;] The old copy reads: Through all &c. Malone. 1091113381. &lblank; Has he affections in him
That thus can make him bite the law by the nose?
When he would force it, sure it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.]

I was led into a mistake concerning this passage, and into a hasty censure of Dr. Warburton, by the false pointing of the modern editions, according to which, the word force could not admit of his interpretation. But I am now convinced that he was right, and that these lines should be pointed thus:

&lblank; Has he affections in him
That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
When he would force it?—Sure it is no sin,
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.

Is he actuated by passions that impel him to transgress the law, at the very moment that he is enforcing it against others? [I find, he is.] Surely then [since this is so general a propensity] it is no sin, or at least a venial one. So, in the next act:

“&lblank; A deflower'd maid

-- 99 --

“And by an eminent body that enforc'd
“The law against it.”

Force is again used for enforce in K. Henry VIII.

“If you will now unite in your complaints,
“And force them with a constancy.”—

Again, in Coriolanus:

“Why force you this?” Malone. 1091113487. &lblank; bestow'd her on her own lamentation &lblank;] I believe the words are transposed, and that the author wrote:
&lblank; bestow'd on her her own lamentation. Malone. 1091113591. Free from all faults &c] The first and second folio have:
Free from our faults &lblank; Malone. 1091113692. Pygmalion's images &c.]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note.—By Pygmalion's images newly made women, I do not understand, with Mr. Steevens, virgins as fresh as if they came recently from the hands of Pygmalion. I rather think the meaning is: Is there no courtezan, who being newly made woman, [i. e. lately debauched,] still retains the appearance of chastity, and looks as cold as a statue, to be had &c.

The following passage in Blunt Master Constable, a comedy, by Middleton, 1602, seems to authorize this interpretation:

“Laz.

Are all these women?

“Imp.

No, no, they are half men, and half women.

“Laz.

You apprehend too fast. I mean by women, wives; for wives are no maids, nor are maids women.”

Mulier in Latin had precisely the same meaning.

Malone. 1091113794. You will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house.] Alluding to the etymology of the word husband. Malone. 1091113895. Then Pompey? nor now.] I think there should not be a note of interrogation here. The meaning is: I will neither bail thee then, nor now. So again, in this play:
“More, nor less to others paying.”— Malone. 10911139103. To weed my vice and let his grow!]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note ⁵.—My vice, for the vices of my dukedom, appears to me very harsh.

My, does not, I apprehend, relate to the duke in particular, who had not been guilty of any vice, but to any indefinite person.—The meaning seems to be—to destroy by extirpation, (as it is expressed in another place) a fault that I have committed, and to suffer his own vices to grow to a rank and luxuriant height.

-- 100 --

The speaker, for the sake of argument, puts himself in the case of an offending person.

Malone. 10911140Ibid. Though angel on the outward side!] Here we see what induced the author to give the outward-sainted deputy the name of Angelo. Malone. 10911141Ibid. How may likeness made in crimes,
Making practice on the times.
To draw &c.]

Thus this passage stands both in the first and second folio. The only corruption, I suspect, is in the word made, instead of which, I believe, Shakspeare wrote wade.

There are frequent instances in these plays of the letters m and w being confounded by the printer. In this very play there is great reason to believe that flawes is printed instead of flames.—So, in Macbeth, we meet:

“&lblank; Thou sure and firm-set earth,”
“Hear not my steps which they may walk.”

instead of—which way they walk.

Again, in K. John: “&lblank; and his siege is

“Against the wind;”

instead of mind.

Again, in K. Henry V.

“Come go me in procession to the village.”

The sense then of the passage will be—How may persons assuming the semblance of virtue, indulge in the grossest crimes! practising on mankind, in order to draw to themselves, by the flimsiest pretensions, the most solid advantages.

Likeness is here used for specious or seeming virtue—So, before: “O seeming, seeming!”

With respect to the word now proposed, it is used by Shakspeare nearly in the sense required here, in Macbeth:

“&lblank; I am in blood,
“Stept in so far, that should I wade no more,
“Returning were as tedious as go o'er.”

Again, in Tancred and Gismund, a tragedy, 1592:

“Forbear and wade no farther in this speech.”

Again, ibid.

“Nor farther wade in such a case as this.”

The word is here clearly used for proceed.

Malone. 10911142104. Take, oh take &lblank;] To follow Mr. Steevens's note ³. Again, in his Venus and Adonis, 1593:
“Pure lips, sweet seals on my soft lips imprinted,
“What bargains may I make still to be sealing.” Malone.

-- 101 --

10911143115. To follow Mr. Steevens's second note.] Mealed is mingled, compounded; from the French mesler. &wblank;e. 10911144Ibid. But this being so &lblank;] The tenor of the argument seems to require:—But this not being so—
Perhaps, however, the author meant only to say &lblank;
But, his life being paralleled, &c. he's just. Malone. 10911145Ibid. That wounds the unresisting postern &lblank;] To follow Dr. Johnson's note.—Unsisting may signify “never at rest,” always opening. &wblank;e. 10911146118. One that is a prisoner nine years old.] i. e. That has been confined these nine years. So, in Hamlet: “Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike preparation &c.” Malone. 10911147121. First, here's young Master Rash &lblank;] All the names here mentioned are characteristical. Rash was a stuff formerly used. So, in A Reply as true as Steele, to a rusty, rayling, ridiculous, lying Libell, which was lately written by an impudent unsoder'd Ironmonger, and called by the name of an Answer to a foolish pamphlet entitled A Swarme of Sectaries and Schismatiques. By John Taylour, 1641:
“And with mockado suit, and judgment rash,
“And tongue of saye, thou'lt say all is but trash.” Malone. 10911148120. Now the unfolding star.]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note:

“So doth the evening star present itself
“Unto the careful shepherd's gladsome eyes,
“By which unto the fold he leads his flock.”

Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1613.

Malone. 10911149123. All great doers in our trade, and are now in for the Lord's sake.]

I believe Dr. Warburton's explanation is right. It appears from a poem entitled, Paper's Complaint, printed among Davies's epigrams, [about the year 1611] that this was the language in which prisoners who were confined for debt, addressed passengers:

“Good gentle writers, for the Lord's sake, for the Lord's sake,
“Like Ludgate prisoner, lo, I, begging, make
“ My mone &lblank;”

Again, in Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse. 1593:— “At that time that thy joys were in the Fleeting, and thou crying for the Lord's sake, out at an iron window, in a lane not far from Ludgate-hill.”—

Malone. 10911150128. &lblank; if the old fantastical duke of dark corners &lblank;]

-- 102 --

This duke who meets his mistresses in by-places. So, in K. Henry VIII.

“There is nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
“Deserves a corner.”

Again, in Westward Hoe, a comedy, by Decker and Webster, 1607: “Has not his lordship's virtue once gone against the hair, and coveted corners?”

Malone. 10911151Ibid. &lblank; he's a better woodman &lblank;]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note.—A woodman, I believe, signified not a huntsman, but an archer. So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece, 1594:

“He is no woodman that doth bend his bow
“To strike a poor unseasonable doe.”

In Philaster, by B. and Fletcher, a woodman swears by his bow.”

Malone. 10911152129. &lblank; let it be proclaimed: betimes in the morning &c.] Should not this passage be rather pointed thus? “Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaimed betimes in the morning: I'll call &c.” So a little above, he says:
“And why should we proclaim it an hour before his entering.” Malone. 10911153137. &lblank; characts &lblank;]

To follow Steevens's note.

Charact signifies an inscription. The stat. 1 Edw. VI. c. 2. directed the seals of office of every bishop to have “certain characts under the king's arms, for the knowledge of the diocese.” Characters are the letters in which an inscription is written. Charactery is the materials of which characters are composed.

“Fairies use flowers for their charactery.” Merry Wives of Windsor. &wblank;e. 10911154Ibid. As e'er I heard in madness.] This is the reading of the old copy. I suspect Shakspeare wrote:
As ne'er I heard in madness. Malone. 10911155Ibid. Do not banish reason for inequality.] To follow Dr. Johnson's note I imagine the meaning rather is—Do not suppose I am mad, because I speak passionately and unequally. Malone. 10911156138. Mended again.]

I think we ought to read:—Mend it again—the matter:—proceed. Correct that phrase when you have occasion to speak again of the deputy—you left off at matter—proceed.

The corruption might easily have arisen in transcribing, from the similarity of sounds.

Malone.

-- 103 --

10911157139. O that it were as like as it is true.] The meaning I think, is: O that it had as much of the appearance as it has of the reality of truth! Malone. 10911158148. I for a while will leave you—stir not &c.] The old copy reads:
“&lblank; will leave you: but stir not you till &c. Malone. 10911159152. Show your sheep-biting face and be hang'd an hour.] To follow Dr. Farmer's note.—A similar expression is found in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, 1614:
“Leave the bottle behind you, and be curst a while.” Malone. 10911160153. Which consummate.] i. e. which being consummated. Malone. 10911161161. To follow Johnson's note.] The duke probably had learnt the the story of Mariana in some of his former retirements, “having ever loved the life removed.” (Page 23) And he had a suspicion that Angelo was but a seemer (page 26) and therefore he stays to watch him. &wblank;e. 10911162165. Comedy of Errors.] I suspect this and all other plays where much rhime is used, and especially in long hobbling verses, to have been among Shakspeare's more early productions. &wblank;e. 10911163Ibid. A play with this title was exhibited at Gray's-inn, in December 1594; but it probably was a translation from Plautus.—“After such sports, a Comedy of Errors (like to Plautus his Menechmus) was played by the players: so that night was begun, and continued to the end, in nothing but confusion and errors. Whereupon it was ever afterwards called the Night of errors.” Gesta Grayorum. 1688. The Registers of Gray's-inn have been examined, for the purpose of ascertaining whether the play above mentioned was our author's;—but they afford no information on the subject. Malone.

-- 104 --

10911164176. Add in my note.] So, in Geo. Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576:
“Yet both in lashe at length this Cressid leaves.” Steevens. 10911165187. That never words were musick to thine ear.] Imitated by Pope:
“My musick then you could for ever hear,
“And all my words were musick to your ear.” Epistle from Sapho to Phaon. Malone. 10911166191. After Mr. Tollet's note, add: Owls are also mentioned in Cornu- Copiæ, or Pasquil's Night-cap, or Antidote for the Headach. 1623. p. 38:
“Dreading no dangers of the darkesome night,
“No oules, hobgoblins, ghosts, nor water-spright.” Steevens. 10911167199. Once this—your long experience of her wisdom.]

Once this, I have no doubt, is wrong, though it is difficult to conjecture what the true reading was.

The passage is manifestly corrupt in the old copy, which has instead of her wisdom—your wisdom.

Perhaps the author wrote:—Own this.—

Malone. 10911168Ibid. For ever hous'd where't gets possession.] Possession is pronounced as a trisyllable; and therefore the line should be printed:—where it &c. Malone. 10911169225. Add to note ⁸.] So, in Ben Jonson's Staple of News: “I would have ne'er a cunning schoole-master in England: I mean a cunning man as a schoole-master; that is a conjurour &c.” Steevens. 10911170233. But moody and dull melancholy &c.]

So, in K. Henry VI. P. I.

“But rather moody mad.”

Mr. Gray has imitated this passage, and also the lines in the text:

“And moody madness laughing wild
  “Amid severest woe &lblank;
“Grim visag'd comfortless despair,
  “And sorrow's piercing dart.—
“Lo! in the vale of years beneath
  “A grisly troop are seen
“The painful family of death
  “More hideous than their queen.” Ode on the Prospect of Eton.

-- 105 --

He seems to have had Pope's Essay on Man also in his thoughts:

“Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain.

Again:

“The fury-passions from the blood began,
“And turn'd on man a fiercer savage, man.”

So, Gray, ibid.

“The fury-passions these shall tear.” Malone. 10911171236. Add, after the first instance in my first note:] So, in Geo. Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576: “&lblank; yet won by importance accepted his courtesie.” Steevens. 10911172242. Have written strange defeatures &lblank;]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note.—I rather think defeatures means here, as in another place in this play, alteration of feature, or deformity. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis. 1593:

“&lblank; To cross the curious workmanship of Nature,
“To mingle beauty with infirmities,
“And pure perfection with impure defeature.”

If we understand by defeatures, in this place, miscarriages, or misfortunes, then we suppose Ægeon to say, “that careful hours, i. e. misfortunes, have written misfortunes in his face.”

Malone. 10911173255. Add to my note ⁸:]

A bolt seems to have been a general term for an arrow. So, in Shirley's Love's Cruelty: “When the keepers are none of the wisest, their bolts are sooner shot.”

There the bolt is supposed to be employed against deerstealers. The word is still used in the common proverb: A fool's bolt is soon shot.

That particular species of arrow which was employed in killing birds, appears to have been called a bird-bolt.

Malone. 10911174258. The gentleman is not in your books]

To follow Dr. Farmer's note.—This expression, I make no doubt, took its rise from the custom mentioned by Dr. Farmer. That in all

-- 106 --

great families, the names of the servants of the houshold were written in books kept for that purpose, appears from the following passage in A new Trick to cheat the Devil, a comedy, 1639: “See, master Treatwell, that his name be enrolled among my other servants—Let my steward receive such notice from you.”

A servant and a lover were in Cupid's Vocabulary, synonymous. Thus, in Marston's Malecontent, 1604: “Is not Marshall Makeroom, my servant in reversion, a proper gentleman?”

Hence the phrase—to be in a person's books—was applied equally to the lover and the menial attendant.

Malone. 10911175266. To follow note ⁸.]

The borrowing of a line from Hieronymo, which was published in 1605, proves this play to be one of Shakspeare's later compositions. As also its being ridiculed by Ben Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair. &wblank;e.

The Spanish Tragedy, or Hieronymo is Mad again, though there is no edition of it now extant earlier than 1605, was written many years before. Nashe, in a pamphlet published in 1593, quotes a passage in it. The line therefore here borrowed from it, will not serve to ascertain the date of Much Ado about Nothing. Its date, however, is ascertained by other circumstances, with more precision than most of our author's plays. It is almost certain that it was written, or at least first exhibited on the stage, in 1599, or 1600; having been printed in the latter year, and not being enumerated by Meres among Shakspeare's plays in 1598. See An Attempt to ascertain the Order in which the Plays attributed to Shakspeare were written, Vol. I. Prolegomena. p. 306 Malone.

10911176269. Cousin, you know—[ and afterwards, good cousin &lblank;]

Surely brother and cousin never could have had the same meaning: yet, as this passage stands at present, Leonato appears to address himself to Antonio, (or as he is styled in the first folio, the old man) his brother, whom he is made to call cousin.

It appears that several persons, I suppose Leonato's kinsmen, are at this time crossing the stage, to whom he here addresses himself. Accordingly, the old copy reads, not cousin, but &lblank;

“Cousins, you know what you have to do.”

You all know your several offices; take care to assist in making preparations at this busy time for my new guests.

I would therefore read cousins in both places.

Malone.

-- 107 --

10911177270. Enter Don John.] The folio has—Sir John. Malone. 10911178271. &lblank; than a rose in his grace.]

To follow Dr. Johnson's note.—The former speech, in my apprehension, shews clearly that the old copy is right. Conrade had said: “He hath ta'en you new into his grace, where it is impossible that you should take root but by the fair weather that you make yourself.” To this Don John replies, with critical correctness: “I had rather be a canker in a hedge, than a rose in his grace.” We meet a kindred expression in Macbeth:

“&lblank; Welcome hither:
“I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
“To make thee full of growing.”

Again, in K. Henry VI. P. III.

“I'll plant Plantaganet, root him up who dares.” Malone. 10911179273. Enter Leonato &c. Margaret and Ursula.] Why Margaret and Ursula should enter here, I know not. They are not mentioned in the old copy; and on the other hand, do actually enter masked in the next scene. Malone. 10911180275. Note ⁷. &lblank; or dumb John.] Here is another proof that when the first copies of our author's plays were prepared for the press, the transcript was made out by the ear. If the Ms. had lain before the transcriber, it is very unlikely that he should have mistaken Don for dumb: but, by an inarticulate speaker, or inattentive hearer, they might easily be confounded. Malone. 10911181277. Note 2.]

This whole note is, I apprehend, founded on a mistake; or, in the stage-direction in the old copy, at the beginning of this scene, was, I believe, an accidental repetition; and, dumb, I suspect, was written instead of Don, through the mistake of the transcriber, whose ear deceived him.

I think it extremely probable, that the regulation proposed by Theobald, and the author of the Revisal, is right.

Malone. 10911182280. Therefore all hearts &c.] Let, which is found in the next line, is understood here. Malone. 10911183282. &lblank; with such impossible conveyance,]

I believe the meaning is—with a rapidity equal to that of jugglers, who appear to perform impossibilities.

Conveyance was the common term in our author's time for slight of hand.

Malone.

-- 108 --

10911184295. But that she loves him with an enraged affection &c.] The meaning I think is—but with what an enraged affection she loves him, it is beyond the power of thought to conceive. Malone. 10911185305. &lblank; press me to death &lblank;] The allusion is to an ancient punishment of our law, called peine fort et dure, which was formerly inflicted on those persons, who, being indicted, refused to plead. In consequence of their silence, they were pressed to death by an heavy weight laid upon their stomach. This punishment, the good sense and humanity of the legislature have within these few years abolished. Malone. 10911186Ibid. Which is as bad as die with tickling.] The author meant that tickling should be pronounced as a trisyllable, tickeling. So, in Spenser, B. ii. Canto 12.
“The while sweet Zephirus loud whisteled
“His treble, a strange kind of harmony;
“Which Gayon's senses softly tickeled, &c.” Malone. 10911187309. &lblank; and the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuff'd tennis-balls.] So, in A Wonderful, strange, and miraculous astrological Prognostication for this Year of our Lord 1591; written by Nashe, in ridicule of Richard Harvey: “&lblank; they may fell their haire by the pound to stuffe tennice balles.” Steevens. 10911188333. &lblank; shall conjecture hang,] Conjecture is here used for suspicion. Malone. 10911189342. Bene. Beat.]

I believe we ought to read: But Beatrice —So, before: “Nay, but Beatrice &lblank;.”

Beat was probably only an abbreviation in the Ms. for Beatrice; and but was accidentally omitted.

Malone. 10911190344. To follow Theobald's note.] The omission of this passage since the edition of 1600, may be accounted for from the stat. 3 Jac. I. c. 21. the sacred name being jestingly used four times in one line. &wblank;e. 10911191349. If such a one will smile &c]

What militates strongly against Dr. Johnson's pointing, and consequently against his interpretation, is, that in these plays, the words cry and hem are generally found joined together. So, in As you like It:

“If I could cry hem and have him &lblank;.”

Again, in The First Part of K. Henry IV. act II. sc. iv. and in many other places.

A very slight alteration of the text will, I apprehend, make perfect sense:

-- 109 --

If such a one will smile and stroke his beard;
In sorrow wag; cry hem, when he should groan;

And and in hastily or indistinctly pronounced might easily have been confounded, supposing (what there is great reason to believe) that these plays were copied for the press by the ear.

By this reading a clear sense is given, and the latter part of the line is a paraphrase on the former.

To cry hem was, as appears from the passage cited by Mr. Tyrwhitt, a mark of festivity. So also from Love's Cruelty, a tragedy by Shirley, 1640:

“Cannot he laugh and hem and kiss his bride,
“But he must send me word?”

Again, in The Second Part of Henry IV:

“We have heard the bells chime at midnight—That we have, that we have;—our watch-word was, hem, boys.”

On the other hand, to cry woe was used to denote grief. Thus, in the Winter's Tale:

“&lblank; but the last, O Lords,
“When I have said, cry woe.”

With respect to the word wag, the using it as a verb, in the sense of to play the wag, is entirely in Shakspeare's manner. There is scarcely one of his plays in which we do not find substantives used as verbs. Thus we meet—to testimony, to boy, to couch, to grave, to bench, to voice, to paper, to page, to dram, to stage, to fever, to fool, to palate, to mountebank, to god, to virgin, to passion, to monster, to history, to fable, to wall, to period, to spaniel, to stranger, &c. &c.

Malone. 10911192358. But soft you; let be.]

The first folio reads:

But soft you; let me be; pluck &c.

We might read: But soft you; let me pluck &lblank;

Since I wrote the above, I find that the second folio reads:

But soft you; let me see; pluck up &c.

which is, I believe, the true reading.

Malone. 10911193361. Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong.] i. e. combined; an accomplice. So, in lord Bacon's Works, vol. iv. p. 269. edit. 1740. “If the issue shall be this, that whatever shall be done for him shall be thought to be done by a number of persons that shall be laboured and packed &lblank;.” Malone. 10911194367. Done to death &lblank;] This obsolete phrase occurs frequently in our ancient writers.—Thus, in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion, 1657:
“His mother's hand shall stop thy breath,
“Thinking her own son is done to death.” Malone.

-- 110 --

10911195394. After Steevens's note.] The time when Banks's horse was exhibited will fix the date of this play; which also appears in p. 433. to be about 1597. &wblank;e. 10911196413. To follow Mr. Steevens's note.] So, in the prologue to Fletcher's Custom of the Country:
“&lblank; The play
“Is quick and witty; so the poets say.” Malone. 10911197414 No l'envoy &lblank;] After Mr. Steevens's note.—So, in The Scornful Lady, by B. and Fletcher, 1616:
“What a trim l'envoy here she has put upon me?” Malone. 10911198419. Cost. Guerdon,—O sweet guerdon! better than remuneration; eleven-pence farthing better &c.]

The following parallel passage in A Health to the Gentlemanly Profession of Serving-men, or the Serving-man's Comfort &c. 1598, was pointed out to me by Dr. Farmer.

“There was, sayth he, a man, (but of what estate, degree, or calling, I will not name, least thereby I might incurre displeasure of anie) that comming to his friendes house, who was a gentleman of good reckoning, and being there kindly entertained, and well used, as well of his friende the gentleman as of his servantes: one of the sayd servantes doing him some extraordinarie pleasure during his abode there, at his departure he comes unto the sayd servant, and sayth unto him, Holde thee, here is a remuneration for thy paynes; which the servant receiving, gave him utterly for it (besides his paynes) thankes, for it was but a three-farthings peece: and I holde thankes for the same a small price, howsoever the market goes. Now an other comming to the sayd gentleman's house, it was the foresayd servant's good hap to be neare him at his going away, who calling the servant unto him, sayd, Holde thee, here is a guerdon for thy deserts: now the servant payde no deerer for the guerdon, than he did for the remuneration; though the guerdon was xid. farthing better; for it was a shilling, and the other but a three-farthinges.”

Whether Shakspeare, or the author of this pamphlet was the borrower, cannot be known, till the time when Love's Labour Lost was written, and the date of the earliest edition

-- 111 --

of the Serving-man's Comfort &c. shall be ascertained by circumstances which at present are beyond our reach.

Steevens. 10911199431. Who is the shooter.]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note.— So, in Essays and Characters of a Prison and Prisoners, by G. M. 1618: “The King's guard are counted the strongest archers, but here are better suitors.” So, in Antony and Cleopatra, we meet in the old copy: (owing probably to the transcriber's ear having deceived him)

“&lblank; A grief that suits
“My very heart at root.”

instead of—a grief that shoots.

Again, in the Rape of Lucrece, 1594, we find shoot instead of suit:

“End thy ill aim before thy shoot be ended.”

Here clearly the author meant suit.

In Ireland, where there is reason to believe that much of the pronunciation of queen Elizabeth's time is yet retained, the word suitor is at this day pronounced by the vulgar as if it were written shooter. The word in the text ought, I think, to be written suitor, as in the instance above quoted from Essays &c. by G. M.

The mistake arose from the similarity of the sounds; and this is one of many proofs, that when these plays were transcribed for the press, the copies were made out by the ear.

Malone. 10911200441. Fauste precor gelida.]

From a passage in Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse, 1593, the Eclogues of Mantuanus appear to have been a school-book in our author's time:

“With the first and second leafe he plaies very prettilie, and, in ordinarie terms of extenuating, verdits Pierce Pennilesse for a grammar-school wit; saies, his margine is as deeplie learned as Fauste precor gelida.”

Malone. 10911201452. Her hairs were gold, chrystal the other's eyes.]

The first folio reads: On her hairs &c. The context, I think, clearly shews that we ought to read:

One, her hairs were gold, chrystal the other's eyes.

i. e. the hairs of one of the ladies were of the colour of gold, and the eyes of the other as clear as chrystal. The king is speaking of the panegyricks pronounced by the two lovers on their mistresses.

One was formerly pronounced on. Hence the mistake. See a note on The Two Gentlemen of Verona, ante p. 87.

-- 112 --

The same mistake has happened in All's Well that ends Well; (first folio.)

“A traveller is a good thing after dinner—but on that lies two thirds &c.”

The two words are frequently confounded in our ancient dramas.

Malone. 10911202454. And critick Timon.]

After Mr. Steevens's note.—

Mr. Steevens's observation is supported by our author's 112th Sonnet:

“&lblank; my adder's sense
“To cryttick and to flatterer stopped are.” Malone. 10911203463. Add to my note.—Again, in Storer's Life and Death of Cardinal Wolsey, a Poem, 1599:
“With whose hart-strings Amphion's lute is strung,
“And Orpheus harp hangs warbling at his tongue.” Steevens. 10911204468. &lblank; audacious without impudency.]

Audacious was not always used by our ancient writers in a bad sense. It means no more here, and in the following instance from Ben Jonson's Silent Woman, than liberal or commendable boldness:

“&lblank; she that shall be my wife, must be accomplished with courtly and audacious ornaments.”

Steevens. 10911205Ibid. He is too piqued.] The following passage in Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593, may serve to corroborate Mr. Tyrwhitt's explanation: “And he might have shrowded a picked effeminate carpet knight under the fictionate person of Hermaphroditus.” Again, in Wilson's Arte of Rhetorique, 1553: “Such riot, dicyng, cardyng, pikyng, —must needs bring him to naught.” Malone. 10911206487. Add to my last note:] Again, in Newes from Hell, brought by the Devil's Carrier, 1606: “&lblank; in a bowling alley in a flat cap like a shop-keeper.” Steevens. 10911207496. Add to my note 2.] Again, in Randolph's Poems, 1664:
“The titles of their satires fright some more,
“Than Lord have mercy writ upon a door.” Malone. 10911208Ibid. Add to my note:]

Again, in More Fools yet, a collection of Epigrams by R. S. 1610:

“To declare the infection for his sin,
“A crosse is set without, there's none within.”

Again, ibid.

-- 113 --

“But by the way he saw and much respected
“A doore belonging to a house infected,
“Whereon was plac'd (as 'tis the custome still)
“The Lord have mercy on us: this sad bill
“The sot perus'd &lblank;.” Steevens. 10911209520. And cuckow-buds of yellow hue.] Mr. Whalley, the learned editor of B. Jonson's works, many years ago proposed to read crocus buds. The cuckow-flower, he observed, could not be called yellow, it rather approaching to the colour of white, by which epithet, Cowley, who was himself no mean botanist, has distinguished it:
Albaque cardamine &c. Malone.

-- 114 --

10911210P. 7. But earthly happier &lblank;]

This is a thought in which Shakspeare seems to have much delighted. We meet with it more than once in his Sonnets:

  “Then were not summer's distillation left,
  “A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
  “Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
  “Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was.
“But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
“Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
“Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
“In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd;—
“Make sweet some phial; treasure thou some place
“With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.” Fifth and sixth Sonnet.

Again, in the 54th Sonnet:

  “They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade,
  “Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
  “Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
“And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
“When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.” Malone. 109112119. The course of true love &c.] This passage seems to have been imitated by Milton. Paradise Lost, B. 10.—896. Malone. 1091121210. Making it momentany &lblank;] After Dr. Johnson's note.— The first folio has not momentary but momentary. Malone. 1091121311. From Athens is her house remote seven leagues.] Remov'd, which is the reading of the folio, was, I believe, the author's word.—He uses it again in Hamlet, for remote:
“He wafts you to a more removed ground.” Malone.

-- 115 --

1091121414. &lblank; when Phœbe doth behold &c. 15. &lblank; deep midnight.] Shakspeare has a little forgotten himself. It appears from page 4. that to-morrow night would be within three nights of the new moon, when there is no moonshine at all, much less at deep midnight. The same oversight occurs in page 59. &wblank;e. 1091121515. Emptying our bosoms of their counsels swell'd.]

I think, sweet, the reading proposed by Theobald, is right.

Counsels relates in construction to emptying—and not to the last word in the line, as it is now made to do by reading swell'd. A similar phraseology is used by a writer contemporary with Shakspeare:

“So ran the poor girls filling the air with shrieks,
“Emptying of all the colour their pale cheeks.” Heywood's Apology for Actors, Sig. B. 4. 1610.

The adjective all here added to colour, exactly answers, in construction, to sweet in the text, as regulated by Theobald.

Malone. 1091121618. &lblank; and so grow to a point.] The first folio reads: &lblank; and so grow on to a point. Malone. 1091121722. I will roar you an it were &c.] The first folio omits you. Malone. 1091121823. After the first instance in note ⁴, add] So, in The Ball, by Chapman and Shirley, 1639:
“&lblank; have you devices to jeer the rest? “Luc.
All the regiment on 'em, or I'll break my bowstrings.” Steevens. 1091121924. Add to my note ⁶:] So, in a letter from Gabriel Harvey to Spenser, 1580: “Have we not God hys wrath, for Goddes wrath, and a thousand of the same stampe, wherein the corrupte orthography in the moste, hath been the sole or principal cause of corrupte prosodye in overmany?” Steevens. 1091122026. After Steevens's note on square:] It is somewhat whimsical, that the glaziers use the words square and quarrel as synonymous terms, for a pane of glass. &wblank;e. 1091122129. &lblank; sweet Puck.]

After Mr. Tyrwhitt's note add—So, in The Scourge of Venus, or the Wanton Lady, with the rare Birth of Adonis, 1614:

“Their bed doth shake and quaver as they lie,
“As if it groan'd to beare the weight of sinne;
“The fatal night-crowes at their windowes flee,
“And crie out at the shame they do live in:

-- 116 --

“And that they may perceive the heavens frown,
“The poukes and goblins pul the coverings down.”

Again, in Spenser's Epithal. 1595:

“Ne let house-fyres, nor lightning's helpelesse harms,
  “Ne let the pouke, nor other evil spright,
“Ne let mischievous witches with their charmes
  “Ne let hobgoblins &c.” Steevens. 1091122239. By their increase now knows not which is which.] To follow Dr. Johnson's note.—So, in our author's 97th Sonnet:
“The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
  “Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime &lblank;” Malone. 10911223Ibid. To follow Tyrwhitt's note:]

—Henchman. Quasi haunch-man. One that goes behind another. Pedisequus. &wblank;e.

The learned commentator might have given his etymology some support from the following passage in K. Henry IV. P. II. vol. V. p. 566:

“O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
“Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
“The lifting up of day.” Steevens. 1091122447. Add to my note ³.] Again, in Marston's Dutch Courtezan, 1605:
“So could I live in desert most unknowen,
“Yourself to me enough were populous.” Malone. 1091122555. &lblank; Nature shews art,] The first folio reads:—Nature her shews art. I suppose the words were accidentally transposed at the press, and would therefore read:—Nature shews her art. The second folio however reads (which may be right)—Nature here shews art. Malone. 10911226Ibid. Not Hermia, but Helena I love.] The first folio has:
&lblank; but Helena now I love. Malone. 1091122759. No, I am no such thing; I am a man, as other men are: —and there indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.]

There are probably many temporary allusions to particular incidents and characters scattered through our author's plays, which gave a poignancy to certain passages, while the events were recent, and the persons pointed at, yet living.—In the speech now before us, I think it not improbable that he meant to allude to a fact which happened in his time, at an entertainment exhibited before queen Elizabeth. It is recorded in a manuscript collection of

-- 117 --

anecdotes, stories, &c. entitled, Merry Passages and Jeasts, Ms. Harl. 6395:

“There was a spectacle presented to queen Elizabeth upon the water, and among others Harry Goldingham was to represent Arion upon the dolphin's backe; but finding his voice to be very hoarse and unpleasant, when he came to perform it, he tears off his disguise, and swears he was none of Arion, not he, but even honest Har. Goldingham; which blunt discoverie pleased the queene better than if it had gone through in the right way:—yet he could order his voice to an instrument exceeding well.”

The collector of these Merry Passages appears to have been nephew to Sir Roger L'Estrange.

Malone. 1091122861. If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine.] I think, this ought to be pointed differently:—If I were, [i. e. as true, &c.] fair Thisbe, I were only thine. Malone. 1091122962. The ousel-cock so black of hue &c.]

In The Arbor of Amorous Devises, 4to, bl. l. are the following lines:

“The chattering pie, the jay, and eke the quaile,
“The thrustle-cock that was so black of hewe.”

The former leaf and the title-page being torn out of the copy I consulted, I am unable either to give the two preceding lines of the stanza, or to ascertain the date of the book.

Steevens. 1091123066.I shall desire of you more acquaintance, good master Cobweb; if I cut my finger I shall make bold with you.]

In The Mayde's Metamorphosis, a comedy, by Lilly, there is a dialogue between some foresters and a troop of fairies, very similar to the present:

“Mopso.
I pray you, Sir, what might I call you? “1 Fai.
My name is Penny. “Mop.
I am sorry I cannot purse you. “Frisco.
I pray you, Sir, what might I call you? “2 Fai.
My name is Cricket. “Fris.
I would I were a chimney for your sake.”

The Maid's Metamorphosis was not printed till 1600, but was probably written some years before. Mr. Warton says, (History of English Poetry, vol. II. p. 393.) that Lilly's last play appeared in 1597.

Malone. 1091123168. And forth my minnock comes.]

I believe the reading of the folio is right:

And forth my mimick comes.

The line has been explained as if it related to Thisbe, but it does not relate to her, but to Pyramus. Bottom had just

-- 118 --

been playing that part, and had retired into the brake. “Anon his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimick (i. e. my actor) comes.” In this there seems no difficulty.

Mimick is used as synonymous to actor, by Decker, in his Gul's Hornebooke, 1609: “Draw what troope you can from the stage after you; the mimicks are beholden to you for allowing them elbow-room.” Again, in his Satiromastix, 1602: “Thou [B. Jonson] hast forgot how thou amblest in a leather pitch by a play-waggon in the highway, and took'st mad Jeronymo's part, to get service amongst the mimicks.” Malone.

1091123272. And from thy hated presence part I so.] So has been supplied by some of the modern editors. Malone. 10911233Ibid. For debt that bankrupt sleep &lblank;] The first and second folio read—slip. The same error has, perhaps, happened in Measure for Measure:
“Which for these nineteen years we have let slip.” Malone. 1091123475. But you must join in souls &c.]

The phrase, in souls, has been so well supported, that there remains nothing to be said relative to it.

I suspect, however, that the words were transposed at the press, and would read:

“Can you not hate me, as I know you do
“In souls, but you must join to mock me to?”

So, a little lower:

“You hate me with your hearts.” Malone.

Possibly by adding a single letter, the sense may be less embarrassed:

But you must join in scouls to work me too.

Scouls, I believe is sometimes used as synonymous with scoffs.

&wblank;e. 1091123576. Lest to thy peril, thou aby it dear.] The folio has abide. Malone. 1091123677. &lblank; brought me to thy sound.] Folio—that sound. Malone. 1091123783. Thou shalt aby it.] The folio reads—abide it. Malone. 1091123884. I am amaz'd and know not what to say.] This line is not in the folio. Malone. 1091123989. To follow Mr. Tyrwhitt's note.] I do not perceive any defect in the metre of the second line. It is the same as in the former stanza. Malone. 1091124090. &lblank; overflow'n with a honey-bag.] It should be overflow'd.

-- 119 --

—Yet the mistake is as likely to have been the author's as the transcriber's. Malone. 1091124191. So doth the woodbine &c.] After Dr. Johnson's note.— The following passage in The Fatal Union, 1640, in which the honey-suckle is spoken of as the flower, and the woodbine as the plant, supports Dr. Johnson's interpretation:
“&lblank; As fit a gift as this * ^note were for a lord—a honeysuckle,
“The amorous woodbine's offspring.” Malone. 1091124295. After Steevens's note:] A statute 3 Hen. VII. c. 14. directs certain offences committed in the king's palace, to be tried by twelve sad men of the king's houshold. &wblank;e. 1091124396. Uncouple in the western valley—go.]

The folio reads:

Uncouple in the western valley let them go.

Shakspeare might have written:

Uncoupled in the western valley let them go. Malone. 10911244Ibid. &lblank; they bay'd the bear.] Add to my note:—Shakspeare must have read the Knight's Tale in Chaucer, where are mentioned Theseus's “white alandes [grey-hounds] to huntin at the lyon, or the wild bere.” Tollet. 10911245Ibid. My hounds are bred &c.] This passage has been imitated by Lee in his Theodosius:
“Then through the woods we chac'd the foaming boar,
“With hounds that open'd like Thessalian bulls,
“Like Tygers flew'd, and sanded as the shore,
“With ears and chests that dash'd the morning dew.” Malone. 1091124699. Melted as is the snow.] Is has been supplied by some of the editors. Malone. 10911247100. And I have found Demetrius, like a jewel,
Mine own and not mine own.]

To follow Dr. Warburton's note.—An anonymous critick supposes that Shakspeare had in his thoughts the mine of rubies, belonging to the king of Zeylan (mentioned by Le Blanc and other travellers) out of which the king had all that exceeded the weight of four or five carrats, and none under that weight—on which account the jewels of the mine might be called his own and not his own.

I do not suppose any such allusion to have been intended.—

-- 120 --

Helena, I think, only means to say, that having found Demetrius unexpectedly, she considered her property in him as insecure as that which a person has in a jewel that he has found by accident; which he knows not whether he shall retain, and which therefore may properly enough be called his own and not his own.

Helena does not say, as Dr. Warburton has represented, that Demetrius was like a jewel, but that she had found him, like a jewel &c

A kindred thought occurs in Antony and Cleopatra:

“&lblank; by starts
“His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear
“Of what he has, and has not.”

The same kind of expression is found also in The Merchant of Venice:

“Where ev'ry something, being blent together,
“Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
“Exprest, and not exprest.” Malone. 10911248104. &lblank; in a fine frenzy rolling &lblank;] This seems to have been imitated by Drayton in his Epistle to J. Reynolds on Poets and Poetry: describing Marlowe, he says:
“&lblank; that fine madness still he did retain,
“Which rightly should possess a poet's brain!” Malone. 10911249109. Where I have come great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes,
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
And in conclusion dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome.]

So, in Pericles:

“She sings like one immortal, and she dances
“As goddess like to her admired lays;
“Deep clerks she dumbs.”

It should be observed, that periods in the text is used in the sense of full stops.

Malone. 10911250111. And finds his trusty Thisbe's mantle slain.]

The first folio reads:

And finds his Thisbie's mantle slaine.

The second has:

And finds his gentle Thisby's mantle slain.

The present reading is that of the quarto.

Malone. 10911251112. And Thisbe tarrying in Mulberry shade,
His dagger drew and died.]

-- 121 --

These lines ought to be regulated thus:

And (Thisbe tarrying in Mulberry shade)
His dagger drew and died. Malone. 10911252113. And thou O wall, O sweet &lblank;] The first folio reads:
And thou O wall, thou sweet &c. Malone. 10911253122. Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf beholds the moon;]

Add to my note &lblank;

The following passage in Antonio's Revenge, a tragedy, 1602, written by Marston, (who has evidently imitated Shakspeare, or was imitated by him) appears to me a strong confirmation of the reading proposed by Dr. Warburton:

“Now barks the wolfe against the full-cheek'd moon,
“Now lyons half-clam'd entrals roar for food,
“Now croaks the toad, and night-crows screech aloud,
“Fluttring 'bout casements of departing souls;
“Now gape the graves, and thro' their yawns let loose
“Imprison'd spirits to revisit earth.”

It is observable, that in the passage in Lodge's Rosalynde, 1592, which Shakspeare seems to have had in his thoughts, when he wrote, in As you like it—“'Tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon”—the expression is found, that Marston has here used instead of behowls. “In courting Phebe, thou barkest with the wolves of Syria against the moon.”

Malone. 10911254137. Is that any thing now?]

The first and second folio read, by an apparent error of the press:

It is that any thing now.

Mr. Steevens's explanation of the old reading is supported by a passage in Othello:

“Can any thing be made of this?” Malone. 10911255139. And am I prest unto it.—] Folio rightly—
And I am prest unto it. Malone. 10911256141. But this reasoning is not in the fashion.]

Folio—

But this reason is not in fashion.

Malone.

-- 122 --

10911257144. &lblank; and I pray God grant them a fair departure.]

The folio reads:

&lblank; and I wish them a fair &c.

The alteration was probably made in consequence of the stat. 3 Jac. I. cap. 21.

Malone. 10911258Ibid. How now what news?] These words are not in the folio. Malone. 10911259146. &lblank; and my well-won thrift.] The folio reads— well-worn. Malone. 10911260148. &lblank; the fulsome ewes.] Fulsome, in Golding's Translation of Ovid, 1602, seems to be used for fat:
“His leane, pale, hore and wither'd coarse grew fulsome, faire, and fresh.” Malone. 10911261151. A bread of barren &c.] To follow Mr. Steevens's note.—Both the first and second folio read:
A breed of barren &lblank; Malone. 10911262Ibid. &lblank; of your body pleaseth me.] Folio—it pleaseth me. Malone. 10911263152. &lblank; the value of the bond.] Folio—this bond. Malone. 10911264159. My till-horse.] The two first folios read phill-horse. So also the word is spelled in the two instances produced by Mr. Steevens. Malone. 10911265162. Well if any man in Italy &lblank;]

After Mr. Tyrwhitt's note.—Dr. Johnson's explanation appears to me perfectly just. In support of it, it should be remembered, that which is frequently used by our author and his contemporaries, for the personal pronoun, who. It is still so used in our Liturgy.

The whole difficulty of this passage, has, I believe, arisen from the omission of the particle no. The words, I shall have good fortune, are not, I believe, connected with what goes before, but with what follows; and begin a new sentence. The author, I think, meant, that Launcelot, after this abrupt speech—Well if any man that offers to swear upon a book, has a fairer table than mine—[I am much mistaken &lblank;] should proceed in the same manner in which he began:—“I shall have no good fortune; go to; here's a simple line of life &c.”

So before:

“I cannot get a service, no;
“I have ne'er a tongue in my head &lblank;.”

And afterwards:

“Alas! fifteen wives is nothing.”

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The Nurse, in Romeo and Juliet, expresses herself exactly in the same style: “Well you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man; Romeo! no, not he;— he is not the flower of courtesy;—go thy ways, wench &c.”

Malone. 10911266164. Well we shall see your bearing.] Bearing is demeanour, or deportment. So, in Measure for Measure:
“How I may formally in person bear me
“Like a true friar.” Malone. 10911267169. There will come a Christian by
Will be worth a Jewess eye.] It's worth a Jew's eye, is a proverbial phrase. Whalley. 10911268171. With over-weather'd ribs and rugged sails.] The first and second folio read:
With over-wither'd ribs &lblank; Malone. 10911269188. Add to my note:] So, in Myrrha, the Mother of Adonis, or Luste's Prodigie, a poem by W. Barksted, 1607:
“Nere Turkas, was at sicke blood more estrang'd,
“Than Myrrha when her chastity was chang'd.” Steevens. 10911270196. After Dr. Johnson's note, add:]

This reading may be the true one. So, in Whetstone's Arbour of Virtue, 1576:

“The pearles of praise that deck a noble name.”

Again, in R. C's verses in praise of the same author's Rock of Regard:

“But that that beares the pearle of praise away.” Steevens. 10911271207. With what we lack.] The first folio reads:
With that we lack. Malone. 10911272Ibid. When we are both apparel'd &c.] The two first folios have—accouter'd. Malone. 10911273208. Therefore I promise you, I fear you.] I suspect for has been inadvertently omitted; and would read:
&lblank; I fear for you. Malone. 10911274Ibid. Thus when I shun Sylla &lblank;] In my note, for l' Alexandréide—read Alexandreis. Malone. 10911275214. Some men there are love not a gaping pig.] Add to my note.—So also, in Fletcher's Elder Brother:
“And they stand gaping like a roasted pig.” Malone. 10911276215. Add to my note—after the reading proposed:] Or with still less change, we might read:

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“&lblank; for affection,
“Master of passion, sways it to the mood &c.” Malone. 10911277218. Is dearly bought, is mine, &lblank;] The first folio reads: —'tis mine. Malone. 10911278220. &lblank; to cureless ruin.] The folio has—endless ruin. Malone. 10911279222. &lblank; in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation.] Portia's referring the Jew to the Christian doctrine of salvation, and the Lord's Prayer, is a little out of character. &wblank;e. 10911280234. To follow Mr. Tyrwhitt's note.] “Sweet love!” is not an arbitrary insertion by Mr. Pope, but the reading of the second folio; and, in my apprehension, decisively proves that these words belong to Lorenzo's speech: for, “sweet love,” cannot well be applied to Launcelot's master. Malone. 10911281236. Add to my note, after the words—and perhaps confirms it.]

It, I apprehend, refers to harmony, and not to souls. There is, therefore, no need of Dr. Johnson's proposed alteration, —“in th' immortal soul.”

Perhaps Shakspeare, when he wrote this passage, had Sir Philip Sydney's elegant Defence of Poesie in his thoughts:— “But if you be born so neare the dull-making cataract of Nilus, that you cannot heare the planet-like musick of poetrie, if you have so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot list itself up to look to the skie of poetrie &c.”

Malone. 10911282240. &lblank; this breathing courtesy.]

Breathing for verbal.— So, in Timon, a senator replies to Alcibiades, who had made a long speech:

“You breathe in vain.”

Again, in Hamlet:

“Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes
“The youth you breathe of, guilty.” Malone. 10911283258. After Mr. Tyrwhitt's note, add:]

Of the incident of the bond, no English original has hitherto been pointed out. I find, however, the following in The Orator: handling a hundred severall Discourses, in form of Declamations: some of the Arguments being drawne from Titus Livius and other ancient Writers, the rest of the Author's own Invention: Part of which are of Matters happened in our Age.—Written in French by Alexander Silvayn, and Englished by L. P. [i. e. Lazarus

-- 125 --

Pilot] London, printed by Adam Islip, 1596.—(This book is not mentioned by Ames.) See p. 401.

Declamation 95. “Of a Jew, who would for his debt have a pound of the flesh of a Christian.

“A Jew, unto whom a Christian merchant ought nine hundred crownes, would have summoned him for the same in Turkie: the merchant, because he would not be discredited, promised to pay the said summe within the tearme of three months, and if he paid it not, he was bound to give him a pound of the flesh of his bodie. The tearme being past some fifteene daies, the Jew refused to take his money, and demaunded the pound of flesh: the ordinarie judge of that place appointed him to cut a just pound of the Christian's flesh, and if he cut either more or lesse, then his own head should be smitten off: the Jew appealed from this sentence, unto the chiefe judge, saying:

“Impossible is it to breake the credit of trafficke amongst men without great detriment to the commonwealth: wherefore no man ought to bind himselfe unto such covenants which hee cannot or will not accomplish, for by that means should no man feare to be deceaved, and credit being maintained, every man might be assured of his owne; but since deceit hath taken place, never wonder if obligations are made more rigorous and strict then they were wont, seeing that although the bonds are made never so strong, yet can no man be very certaine that he shall not be a loser. It seemeth at the first sight that it is a thing no less strange then cruel, to bind a man to pay a pound of the flesh of his bodie, for want of money: surely, in that it is a thing not usuall it appeareth to be somewhat the more admirable, but there are divers others that are more cruell, which because they are in use seeme nothing terrible at all: as to binde all the bodie unto a most lothsome prison, or unto an intollerable slaverie, where not only the whole bodie but also all the sences and spirits are tormented, the which is commonly practised, not only betwixt those which are either in sect or nation contrary, but also even amongst those that are of one sect and nation, yea amongst Christians it hath been seene that the son hath imprisoned the father for monie. Likewise in the Roman commonwealth, so famous for lawes and armes, it was lawful for debt to imprison, beat, and afflict with torments the free citizens: how manie of them (do you thinke)

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would have thought themselves happie, if for a small debt they might have been excused with the paiment of a pounde of their flesh? who ought then to marvile if a Jew requireth so small a thing of a Christian, to discharge him of a good round summe? A man may aske why I would not rather take silver of this man, then his flesh: I might alleage many reasons, for I might say that none but my selfe can tell what the breach of his promise hath cost me, and what I have thereby paied for want of money unto my creditors, of that which I have lost in my credit: for the miserie of those men which esteem their reputation, is so great, that oftentimes they had rather indure any thing secretlie, then to have their discredit blazed abroad, because they would not be both shamed and harmed. Neverthelesse, I doe freely confesse, that I had rather lose a pound of my flesh then my credit should be in any sort cracked: I might also say that I have need of this flesh to cure a friend of mine of a certaine maladie, which is otherwise incurable, or that I would have it to terrifie thereby the Christians for ever abusing the Jews once more hereafter: but I will onlie say, that by his obligation he oweth it me. It is lawfull to kill a souldier if he come unto the warres but an houre too late, and also to hang a theefe though he steale never so little: is it then such a great matter to cause such a one to pay a pound of his flesh, that hath broken his promise manie times, or that putteth another in danger to lose both credit and reputation, yea and it may be life, and al for griefe? were it not better for him to lose that I demand, then his soule, alreadie bound by his faith? Neither am I to take that which he oweth me, but he is to deliver it to me: and especiallie because no man knoweth better than he where the same may be spared to the least hurt of his person, for I might take it in such place as hee might thereby happen to lose his life: whatte matter were it then if I should cut off his privie members, supposing that the same would altogether weigh a just pound? or els his head, should I be suffered to cut it off, although it were with the danger of mine own life? I believe I should not; because there were as little reason therein, as there could be in the amends whereunto I should be bound: or els if I would cut off his nose, his lips, his ears, and pull out his eies, to make them altogether a pound, should I be suffered? surely I think not, because the obligation dooth not specifie that I ought either to choose, cut, or take the same, but that he ought to give me a pound of his flesh. Of every thing that is sold, he which

-- 127 --

delivereth the same is to make waight, and he which receiveth, taketh heed that it be just: seeing then that neither the obligation, custome, nor law doth bind me to cut, or weigh, much lesse unto the above mentioned satisfaction, I refuse it all, and require that the same which is due should be delivered unto me.”

The Christian's Answere.

“It is no strange matter to here those dispute of equitie which are themselves most unjust; and such as have no faith at all, desirous that others should observe the same inviolable, the which were yet the more tolerable, if such men would be contented with reasonable things, or at the least not altogether unreasonable: but what reason is there that one man should unto his own prejudice desire the hurt of another? as this Jew is content to lose nine hundred crownes to have a pound of my flesh, whereby is manifestly seene the antient and cruel hate which he beareth not only unto Christians, but unto all others which are not of his sect: yea, even unto the Turkes, who overkindly doe suffer such vermine to dwell amongst them, seeing that this presumptuous wretch dare not onely doubt, but appeale from the judgement of a good and just judge, and afterwards he would by sophisticall reasons prove that his abhomination is equitie: trulie I confesse that I have suffered fifteen daies of the tearme to passe, yet who can tell whether he or I is the cause thereof, as for me I thinke that by secret meanes he hath caused the monie to be delaied, which from sundry places ought to have come unto me before the tearm which I promised unto him; otherwise, I would never have been so rash as to bind myselfe so strictly: but although he were not the cause of the fault, is it therefore said, that he ought to be so impudent as to go about to prove it no strange matter that he should be willing to be paied with mans flesh, which is a thing more natural for tigres, than men, the which also was never heard of: but this divell in shape of a man, seeing me oppressed with necessitie, propounded this cursed obligation unto me. Whereas he alleageth the Romaines for an example, why doth he not as well tell on how for that crueltie in afflicting debtors over grievously, the commonwealth was almost overthrowne, and that shortly after it was forbidden to imprison men any more for debt. To breake promise is, when a man sweareth or promiseth a thing, the which he hath no desire to performe,

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which yet upon an extreame necessitie is somewhat excuseable; as for me, I have promised, and accomplished my promise, yet not so soon as I would; and although I knew the danger wherein I was to satisfie the crueltie of this mischievous man with the price of my flesh and blood, yet did I not flie away, but submitted my selfe unto the discretion of the judge who hath justly repressed his beastliness. Wherein then have I satisfied my promise, is it in that I would not (like him) disobey the judgement of the judge? Behold I will present a part of my bodie unto him, that he may paie himselfe, according to the contents of the judgement, where is then my promise broken? But it is no marvaile if this race be so obstinat and cruell against us, for they do it of set purpose to offend our God whom they have crucified: and wherefore? Because he was holie, as he is yet so reputed of this worthy Turkish nation: but what shall I say? Their own Bible is full of their rebellion against God, against their priests, judges and leaders. What did not the very patriarchs themselves, from whom they have their beginning? They sold their brother, and had it not been for one amongst them, they had slaine him for verie envie. How many adulteries and abhominations were committed amongst them? How many murthers? Absalom did he not cause his brother to be murthered? Did he not persecute his father? Is it not for their iniquitie that God hath dispersed them, without leaving them one onlie foot of ground? If then, when they had newlie received their law from God, when they saw his wonderous works with their eies, and had yet their judges amongst them, they were so wicked, what may one hope of them now, when they have neither faith nor law, but their rapines and usuries? and that they believe they do a charitable work, when they do some great wrong unto one that is not a Jew? It may please you then, most righteous judge, to consider all these circumstances, having pittie of him who doth wholly submit himselfe unto your just clemencie: hoping thereby to be delivered from this monster's crueltie.” Farmer.

-- 129 --

10911284263. As I remember, Adam &c.] To follow Johnson's note.—It was on this fashion bequeathed me, as Dr. Johnson reads, is but aukward English. I would read: As I remember, Adam, it was on this fashion.—He bequeathed me by will, &c. Orlando and Adam enter abruptly in the midst of a conversation on this topick; and Orlando is correcting some misapprehension of the other. As I remember (says he) it was thus. He left me a thousand crowns; and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, &c. &wblank;e. 10911285275. &lblank; with bills on their necks.] To follow Farmer's note.—So, in Gorboducke, 1569: “Enter one bearing a bundle of faggots on his neck.” Malone. 10911286289. Being native burghers of this desert city] A kindred expression is found in Lodge's Rosalynde, 1592:
“About her wond'ring stood
“The citizens o' the wood.” Malone. 10911287302. After note ⁴, add] In confirmation of the old reading, Dr. Farmer observes to me, that, being at a house not far from Cambridge, when news was brought that the henroost was robbed, a facetious old 'squire who was present, immediately sung the following stanza, which has an odd coincidence with the ditty of Jaques:
“Damè, what makes your ducks to die?
“duck, duck, duck.—
“Damè, what makes your chicks to cry?
“chuck, chuck, chuck.”— Steevens. 10911288307. Till that the very, very &lblank;] The old copy has —weary, very. Malone. 10911289312. Thou art not so unkind &c.] That is; thy action is not so contrary to thy kind, or to human nature, as the ingratitude of man. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis, 1593:
“O had thy mother borne so bad a mind,
“She had not brought forth thee, but dy'd unkind.” 10911290320. It's the right butter woman's rate to market.]

Rosalind a little lower says: “this is the very false gallop of verses.” Sir T. Hanmer, who first introduced the word rate, (for both the first and second folio read rank) I suppose, understood the passage now before us, thus amended, in this way:

-- 130 --

It is the same kind of pace as that of the butter-woman going to market. But have butter-women any particular pace, or do they go faster to market than other people?

A passage in All's Well that ends Well, shews, I think, that this is yet faulty, and that in the present instance, the volubility of the butter-woman selling her wares at market, was alone in the author's contemplation: “&lblank; tongue! I must put you into some butter-woman's mouth, and buy myself another of Bajazet's mules, if it prattle me into these perils.”

I would therefore read—It is the right butter-woman's rate at market.

Malone. 10911291324. Add to my note:] Again, in Sir Philip Sydney's Defence of Poesie: “Though I will not wish unto you the asse's ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses, as Bubonax was, to hang himself, nor to be rimed to death, as is said to be done in Ireland &c. Malone. 10911292Ibid. &lblank; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.] “Montes duo inter se concurrerunt &c.” says Pliny, Hist. Nat. lib. ii. c. 83. or in Holland's translation: “Two hills [removed by an earthquake] encountered together, charging as it were, and with violence assaulting one another, and retyring again with a most mighty noise.” Tollet. 10911293327. Cry holla to thy tongue.]

Holla was a term of the manege, by which the rider restrained and stopp'd his horse. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis, 1593:

“What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
“His flattering holla, or his stand I say?”

The word is again used in Othello, in the same sense as here:

“Holla! stand there.” Malone. 10911294329. Add to my note.]

Again, in Vittoria Corrombona, a tragedy, by Webster, 1612: “It may appear to some ridiculous thus to talk knave or madman.”

There is no need of Sir T. Hanmer's alteration: “I answer you right in the stile of painted cloth.” We had before in this play: “It is the right butter-woman's rate at market.”

Malone. 10911295337. After note ⁶.] Degrees were at this time considered as the highest dignities; and it may not be improper to observe, that a clergyman, who hath not been educated at the Universities, is still distinguished in some parts of North Wales, by the appellation of Sir John, Sir William, &c. Hence

-- 131 --

the Sir Hugh Evans of Shakspeare is not a Welsh knight who hath taken orders, but only a Welsh clergyman without any regular degree from either of the Universities. See Barrington's History of the Guedir Family. Nichols. 10911296349. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:—
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?]

The second of these lines is from Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 1637, sig. B b. where it stands thus:

“Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
“Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?”

This line is likewise quoted in Belvidere, or the Garden of the Muses, 1610, p. 29. and in England's Parnassus, printed in 1600, p. 261.

Steevens. 10911297354. After Johnson's note.] Mr. Edwards proposes the same emendation, and supports it by a passage in Hamlet: “The coroner hath sat on her, and finds it—Christian burial.” Malone. 10911298371. &lblank; never any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams.] So, in Laneham's Account of Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment at Kennelworth Castle, 1575: “&lblank; ootrageous in their racez az rams at their rut.” Steevens. 10911299376. To follow Steevens's note.] Perhaps we might read:
As those that feign they hope and know they fear. &wblank;e. 10911300402. To follow Steevens's second note.] Perhaps the sentence is left imperfect, because he did not know by what name to call him. &wblank;e. 10911301405. Note ⁶.]

Sincklo or Sinkler was certainly an actor in the same company with Shakspeare &c.—He is introduced together with Burbage, Condell, Lowin, &c. in the Induction to Marston's Malcontent, 1604, and was also a performer in the entertainment entitled The Seven Deadlie Sinns. See p. 60.

Instead of Sincklo, Player should be prefixed to this line.

Malone.

-- 132 --

10911302408. A room in the lord's house—Enter Sly &c.] From the original stage-direction in the first folio it appears that Sly and all the persons mentioned in the Induction, were intended to be exhibited in a balcony above the stage. The direction here is: “Enter aloft the drunkard with attendants, &c.” So afterwards at the end of this scene—“The Presenters above speak.” Malone. 10911303412. After Steevens's note.]

For old John Naps of Greece read, old John Naps o' th' Green. &wblank;e.

In The London Chanticleers, a comedy, 1659, a ballad entitled “George o' the Green” is mentioned. The addition seems to have been a common one. Malone.

10911304415. After Steevens's note.] In the old play (see p. 403.) the players themselves use the word commodity corruptly for a comedy. &wblank;e. 10911305417. After Steevens's note ⁸.] Tranio is here descanting on academical learning, and mentions by name six of the seven liberal sciences. I suspect this to be a mis-print, made by some copyist or compositor, for ethicks. The sense confirms it. &wblank;e. 10911306430. &lblank; as many diseases as two and fifty horses.] I suspect this passage to be corrupt, though I know not well how to rectify it—The fifty diseases of a horse seem to have been proverbial. So, in The Yorkshire Tragedy, 1608: “O stumbling jade! the spavin o'ertake thee! the fifty diseases stop thee!” Malone. 10911307Ibid. &lblank; he'll rail in his rope-tricks.]

Rope-tricks is certainly right.—Repery or rope-tricks originally signified abusive language, without any determinate idea; such language as parrots are taught to speak. So, in Hudibras:

“&lblank; Could tell what subt'lest parrots mean,
“That speak, and think contrary clean;
“What member 'tis of whom they talk,
“When they cry rope, and walk knave, walk.”

The following passage in Wilson's Arte of Rhetorique, 1553, shews that this was the meaning of the term: “Another good fellow in the countrey, being an officer and maiour of a toune, and desirous to speak like a fine learned man, having just occasion to rebuke a runnegate fellow, said after this wise in a great heate: Thou yngram and vacation knave, if I take thee any more within the circumcision of my dampnacion, I will so corrupte thee that all vacation knaves shall take ill sample by thee.” This the author in the margin calls “rope

-- 133 --

ripe chiding.” So, in May-day, a comedy by Chapman, 1611: “Lord! how you roll in your rope-ripe terms.”

Malone. 10911308436. After Steevens's note.] It is given in the first folio to Biondello. Malone. 10911309450. &lblank; from a wild Kate to a Kate.]

To follow Steevens's note.—The second folio reads:

&lblank; from a wild Kat to a Kate.

which is, I think, sufficient authority for the reading adopted by the modern editors.

Malone. 10911310460. That we might beguile the old Pantaloon.] By the old Pantaloon perhaps Gremio was meant. In the stage-direction for the first entrance, in the old copy, we meet, “Enter Baptista the father &c. Gremio a Pantaloone.” So, in a subsequent scene:
“We'll over-reach the grey-beard Gremio.” Malone. 10911311476. &lblank; fire, fire; cast on no water.] There is an old popular catch of three parts, in these words:
“Scotland burneth, Scotland burneth.
“Fire, fire;—Fire, fire;
“Cast on some more water.” &wblank;e. 10911312494. I fear it is too phlegmatick a meat &lblank;] The first folio reads:—too cholerick a meat—The reading of the text was furnished by the second folio. Malone. 10911313511. That every thing I look on seemeth green.] Shakspeare's observations on the phænomena of nature are very accurate. When one has sat long in the sunshine, the surrounding objects will often appear tinged with green. The reason is assigned by many of the writers on optics. &wblank;e.

-- 134 --

10911314Page 4. O, that had! how sad a passage 'tis!] Imitated from the Heautontimorumenos of Terence (then translated) where Menedemus says:
“Filium unicum adolescentulum “Habeo.
Ah, quid dixi? habere me? imo
“&lblank; habui Chreme,
“Nunc habeam necne incertum est.” &wblank;e. 109113159. To follow Steevens's note ⁷.] Mr. Steevens's explanation of this word is supported by a passage in Ben Johnson's Every Man out of his Humour, 1600: “O I have it in writing here of purpose; it cost me two shillings the tricking.” Malone. 1091131614. &lblank; a traitress &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note.— Falstaff, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, says to Mrs. Ford: “Thou art a traitor to say so.” In his interview with her, he certainly meant to use the language of love. Malone. 1091131716. Add to my note.] Again, in K. Henry IV. P. I.
“Yet let me wonder, Harry,
“At thy affections, which do hold a wing
“Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.” Malone. 1091131817. The mightiest space &c.]

I understand the meaning to be this—The affections given us by Nature, often unite persons between whom Fortune or accident has placed the greatest distance or disparity; and cause them to join, like likes, (instar parium) like persons in the same situation or rank of life.

If the author had written spaces, the passage would have been more clear; but he was confined by the metre.

The mightiest space in fortune, for persons the most widely separated by Fortune, is certainly a licentious expression; but it is such a licence as Shakspeare often takes. He might, perhaps, have written:

-- 135 --

The mightiest space in nature, Fortune brings
To join &c.

Accident sometimes unites those whom inequality of rank has separated.

Malone. 1091131919, 20. To follow Johnson's note, p. 19.] Point thus:
He had the wit, which I can well observe
To-day in our young lords: but they may jest,
Till their own scorn returns to them, un-noted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour,
So like a courtier. Contempt &c. &wblank;e. 1091132022. To follow Tyrwhitt's note.]

The reading of the old copy is supported by a similar passage in Cymbeline:

“&lblank; some jay of Italy
“Whose mother was her painting &lblank;.”

Again, by another in the same play:

“&lblank; No, nor thy taylor, rascal,
“Who is thy grandfather; he made those cloaths,
“Which, as it seems, make thee.”

Here the garment is said to be the father of the man:—in the text, the judgment, being employed solely in inventing new dresses, is called the father of the garment.

Malone. 1091132123. To follow Johnson's note.] Cardinal Wolsey, after his disgrace, wishing to shew king Henry a mark of his respect, sent him his fool Patch, as a present, whom, says Stowe, “the king received very gladly.” Malone. 1091132225. You are shallow madam, in great friends.]

Mr. Tyrwhitt's regulation of the passage is, I believe, right; but I would read, with less deviation from the text:

You are shallow, madam: ev'n great friends.

Ev'n and in are so near in sound, that they might easily have been confounded by an inattentive hearer.

The same mistake has happened in another place in this play. Act III. sc. i. (folio 1623)

“ad.
What have we here? “Clown.
In that you have there.”

So, in Antony and Cleopatra:

“No more but in a woman.”

Again, in Twelfth Night, Act. I. sc. v. “'Tis with him in standing water, between boy and man &c.”

The modern editors have rightly corrected all these passages, and read—“Ev'n that you have there”—“No more but ev'n a woman &c.”

Ev'n was formerly contracted thus, e'n. [See Act IV. of

-- 136 --

this play, sc. i. sixth speech, in the old copy.] Hence the mistake was the more easy.

Malone. 1091132334. Yet in this captious and intenible sieve.] By captious, believe, Shakspeare only meant recipient, capable of receiving what is put into it; and by intenible, incapable of holding or retaining it. How frequently he and the other writers of his age confounded the active and passive adjectives, has been already more than once observed. Malone. 1091132450. Add to my note ⁹.] So, in More Fooles yet, by R. S. a collection of Epigrams, 4to, 1610:
“Moreover sattin sutes he doth compare
“Unto the service of a barber's chayre;
“As fit for every Jacke and journeyman,
“As for a knight or worthy gentleman.” Steevens. 1091132560. Good alone is good &c.]

I have no doubt the meaning is—Good is good, independent on any worldly distinction or title: so, vileness is vile, in whatever state it may appear. The very same phraseology is found in Macbeth:

“Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
“Yet grace must still look so.”

i. e. must still look like grace—like itself.

Malone. 1091132661. &lblank; that is honour's scorn
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the sire.] Perhaps we might read more elegantly—as honour-born,— honourably descended; the child of honour. Malone. 1091132764. After note ⁹.] To comment means to assume the appearance of persons discoursing. A similar stage-direction occurs in The Merchant of Venice: “A song—while Bassanio comments on the caskets to himself.” Malone. 1091132878. Note ³.] Dr. Warburton's explanation is confirmed incontestably by these lines in the fifth act, in which Helena again repeats the substance of this letter:
“&lblank; there is your ring;
“And, look you, here's your letter; this it says:
“When from my finger you can get this ring &c.” Malone. 1091132986. A right good creature &lblank;] Add to my note.—The same expression is found in The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634:
“A right good creature, more to me deserving,
“Than I can quit or speak of.” Malone.

-- 137 --

1091133095. And lawful meaning.—]

Mr. Tollet's explanation appears to me rather ingenious than true. And lawful and unlawful are so near in sound, that I have no doubt the latter (which Sir T. Hanmer proposed) was the author's word.

This line, I think, is only a paraphrase on the foregoing.

Malone. 1091133196. So we seem to know, is to know &lblank;]

I think the meaning is—Our seeming to know what we speak one to another, is to make him to know our purpose immediately; to discover our design to him.

To know, in the last instance, signifies to make known.

Malone. 10911332100. I pri'thee do not strive against my vows.]

To follow Mr. Steevens's note.—There can, I think, be no doubt that this is Bertram's meaning. If Mr. Steevens's explanation wanted support, it might be had from a passage in Vittoria Corombona, a tragedy, by Webster, 1612, in which the duke Brachiano, after having declared that he would never more cohabit with his wife, uses the same expression, which Shakspeare has here given to Bertram:

“Henceforth I'll never lie with thee—by this,
“This ring &lblank;
“&lblank; This my vow
“Shall never on my soul be satisfied,
“With my repentance: let thy brother rage
“Beyond a horrid tempest or sea-sight,
“My vow is fix'd.”

In Mr. Steevens's note, instead of—“in his letter to her,”—read—“in his letter to the countess.”

Malone. 10911333106. Is it not meant damnable &lblank;] We ought, I think to read:
Is it not most damnable &lblank; Malone. 10911334112. &lblank; he was whip'd for getting the sheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could not say him nay.]

Innocent does not here signify a person without guilt or blame; but means, in the good-natured language of our ancestors, an ideot or natural fool. Agreeably to this sense of the word is the following entry of a burial in the parish Register of Charlewood in Surrey: “Thomas Sole, an innocent about the age of fifty years and upwards, buried 19^th September, 1605.” Whalley.

Doll Common in the Alchemist, being asked for her opinion of the widow Pliant, observes that she is—“a good dull innocent.”

-- 138 --

Again, in The Silent Woman: “Do you think you had married some innocent out of the hospital, that would stand with her hands thus, and a playse mouth, and look upon you?” Again, in I Would and Would not, a poem, by B. N. 1614:

“I would I were an innocent, a foole,
“That can do nothing else but laugh or crie,
“And eate fat meate, and never goe to schoole,
“And be in love, but with an apple-pie;
“Weare a pide coate, a cockes-combe, and a bell,
“And think it did become me passing well.”

See also Mr. Reed's note on Ford's 'Tis Pity She's a Whore, new edit. of Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, vol. VIII. p. 24.

Steevens. 10911335115. Men are to mell with &lblank;] Add to my note—To mell is used by Marston, our author's contemporary, in the sense of medling, without the idea which Theobald imagines to be couched under the word in this place:
“To bite, to gnaw, and boldly to inter-mell
“With sacred things &lblank;”. Scourge of Villanie, B. iii. Sat. 9. Malone. 10911336120. Hel. Yet I pray you &lblank;]

To follow Dr. Johnson's note, p. 121.—I would read:

Yet I 'fray you
But with the word: the time will bring &c.

And then the sense will be, “I only frighten you by mentioning the word suffer; for a short time will bring on the season of happiness and delight.”

&wblank;e. 10911337125. After note ⁵.] When Cromwell, in 1653, forcibly turned out the rump-parliament, he bid the soldiers “take away that fool's bauble,” pointing to the speaker's mace. &wblank;e. 10911338138. &lblank; noble she was, and thought
I stood engaged.]

I have no doubt that ingaged (the reading of the folio) is right.

Gaged is used by other writers, as well as by Shakspeare, for engaged. So, in a Pastoral, by Daniel, 1605:

“Not that the earth did gage
“Unto the husbandman
“Her voluntary fruits, free without fees.”

Ingaged in the sense of unengaged, is a word of exactly the same formation as inhabitable, which is used by Shakspeare and the contemporary writers for uninhabitable.

Malone.

-- 139 --

10911339144. Methought you said &lblank;] The poet has here forgot himself. Diana has said no such thing. &wblank;e. 10911340145. May justly diet me.] To follow Mr. Collins's note.— I rather think the meaning is—May justly loath or be weary of me—as people generally are of a regimen or prescribed diet. Malone. 10911341146. He did love her Sir—but how?]

But how, I believe, belongs to the king's next speech:

But how, how I pray you?

This suits better with the king's apparent impatience and solicitude for Helena.

Malone. 10911342154. &lblank; That breathes upon a bank of violets &lblank;] Here Shakspeare makes the South steal odour from the violet. In his 99th Sonnet, the violet is made the thief:
“The forward violet thus did I chide:
“Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
“If not from my love's breath?” Malone. 10911343161. He hath indeed, almost natural:] Mr. Upton proposes to regulate this passage differently:
He hath indeed, all, most natural. Malone. 10911344162. &lblank; like a parish-top.] “To sleep like a town-top,” is a proverbial expression. A top is said to sleep, when it turns round with great velocity, and makes a smooth humming noise. &wblank;e. 10911345166. To follow Steevens's note ⁸.] It appears from many passages in the old English plays, that in our author's time, curtains were hung before all pictures of any value. So, in Vittoria Corombona, a tragedy, by Webster, 1612:
“I yet but draw the curtain—now to your picture.” Malone. 10911346180. And leave the world no copy.]

After Steevens's note.— Again, in his 9th Sonnet:

-- 140 --

“Ah! if thou issueless shall hap to die,
“The world will wail thee like a makeless wife,
“The world will be thy widow, and still weep
“That thou no form of thee hast left behind.”

Again, in the 13th Sonnet:

“O that you were yourself! but, love, you are
“No longer yours than you yourself here live:
“Against this coming end you should prepare,
“And your sweet semblance to some other give.” Malone. 10911347185. That sure methought &c.] After Steevens's note.— The word sure, which is wanting in the first folio, was supplied by the second. Malone. 10911348187. Alas our frailty &lblank;] The second folio gave the present reading. Malone. 10911349188. &lblank; an excellent breast.] So, in Antonio and Mellida, by Marston, 1602:
“Boy, sing aloud; make heaven's vault to ring
“With thy breast's strength.” Malone. 10911350190. I did impetticoat thy gratuity.] The old copy has:
I did impeticos thy gratillity. Malone. 10911351210. My nettle of India.] To follow Steevens's note p. 211.—The change was made by the editors of the second folio in 1632, probably from the original Ms.; for of this play there is no quarto edition. Malone. 10911352212. &lblank; the lady of the strachy &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note.—In B. Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, a gingerbread woman is called lady of the basket. Malone. 10911353214. Or play with some rich jewel] The old copy has:
&lblank; or play with my some rich jewel. Malone. 10911354Ibid. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars.] The first folio reads cars; the second, apparently by an error of the press, cares. The reading proposed by Sir T. Hanmer, though I think it not right, is countenanced by a similar expression in Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poesie: “Poesie must not be drawn by the ears, it must be gently led.” Malone. 10911355216. After Mr. Steevens's second note.] I am afraid some very coarse and vulgar appellations are meant to be alluded to by these capital letters. &wblank;e. 10911356219. Add after the second instance in note ⁵.] Again, in Wherever you see me Trust unto Yourselfe, or the Mysterie of Lending and Borrowing, &c. by Thomas Powell London-Cambrian,

-- 141 --

1623: “&lblank; He goes to the scrivener's shop, where sodainly and unawares he finds him saying his praiers, while he was withal crosse-gartering of himselfe; and had he not knowne him better by his crosse-garters than by his praiers, questionless he had lost his labour.” Steevens. 10911357228. After the last enchantment you did hear.]

I have not the least doubt that Dr. Warburton's conjecture is right.— Throughout the first edition of our author's Rape of Lucrece, which was probably printed under his own inspection, the word that we now spell here, is constantly written heare. So also in many other ancient books.

Viola had not simply heard that a ring had been sent; she had seen and talked with the messenger. Besides, “after the last enchantment you did hear,” is so aukward an expression, that it is very unlikely to have been Shakspeare's.

Malone. 10911358233. Add to my note.]

So, in a Dialogue of the Phœnix, &c. by R. Chester, 1601:

“The little wren that many young ones brings.” Steevens.

Again, in Sir Philip Sidney's Ourania, a poem, by N. B. 1606:

“The titmouse, and the multiplying wren.” Malone. 10911359234. And thanks and ever: oft good turns
Are shuffled off &c.] In the second folio, whether by accident or design, these two lines are omitted. Malone. 10911360235. &lblank; 'gainst the duke his gallies] The only authentick copy of this play reads: &lblank; the count his gallies. There is no need of change. Orsino is called count throughout this play, as often as duke. Malone. 10911361236. &lblank; what bestow of him?] Surely of is an error of the press, in the old copy, for on. Malone. 10911362239. &lblank; be opposite with a kinsman &lblank;] Opposite, here, as in many other places, means—adverse, hostile. Malone. 10911363251. &lblank; o'er-flourish'd by the devil.]

To follow Steevens's note.—Again, in his 60th Sonnet:

“Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth.”

The following lines in K. Richard II. as exhibited in England's Parnassus, 1600, confirm Mr. Steevens's observation:

“The purest treasure mortal times afford

-- 142 --

“Is spotless reputation;—that away,
“Men are but gilded trunks, or painted clay.” Malone. 10911364259. After Smith's note.] Mr. Smith is, I believe, right. It appears from a passage in Decker's Honest Whore, 1615, that the Italian proverb had been adopted in English:
“O my lord, these cloaks are not for this rain.” Malone. 10911365268. Though I confess on base and ground enough,]

I once thought that these words were transposed at the press, and wished to read:

Though I confess, and on base ground enough,
Orsino's enemy &lblank;

But the old copy is right; base is here a substantive.

Malone. 10911366271. A contract of eternal bond of love.] I suspect the poet wrote:
A contract and eternal bond of love. Malone. 10911367272. Add to my note.] This expression occurs again in Antony and Cleopatra:
“The case of that huge spirit now is cold.” Malone. 10911368277. &lblank; where lie my maid's weeds.]

The old copy reads:

Where lie my maiden weeds.

The metre is rather hurt than improved by this unnecessary change.

Malone. 10911369278. A most extracting frenzy of mine own.] Since I wrote my former note, I have met with a passage in the Hystorie of Hamblet, bl. l. 1608. Sig. C 2. that seems to support the reading of the old copy: “&lblank; to try if men of great account be extract out of their wits.” Malone. 10911370Ibid. To follow Steevens's note.] I rather think the meaning is—If you would have it read in character, as such a mad epistle ought to be read, you must permit me to assume a frantick tone. Malone. 10911371279. So much against the mettal of your sex.]

The old copy reads, I think rightly:

So much against the mettle of your sex.

i. e. so much against the natural disposition of your sex. So, in Macbeth:

“&lblank; thy undaunted mettle should compose
“Nothing but males.”

The reading which has been substituted, affords, in my apprehension, no meaning. Mettle is here, as in many other places, used for spirit, or rather for timidity, or deficiency of spirit.

-- 143 --

Our author has taken the same licence in All's Well that ends Well:

“'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her &lblank;”

i. e. the want of title. Again, in K. Rich. III:

“The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life.”

i. e. the remission of the forfeit.

Malone. 10911372281. Then cam'st in smiling.] This passage, as it now stands, is ungrammatical. I suppose we may safely read:
Thou cam'st in smiling. Malone. 10911373297. And clap thyself my love &lblank;] After Steevens's note.—Again, in No Wit like a Woman's, a comedy, by Middleton, 1657:
“&lblank; The hour draws on,
“At the new-married widow's; there we are look'd-for;
“There will be entertainments, sports and banquets;
“There these young lovers shall clap hands together.” Malone. 10911374308. &lblank; wishing clocks more swift.] There should be a note of interrogation after swift. Malone. 10911375309. Why he that wears her like her medal &lblank;]

I suspect the poet wrote:—like a medal—So, in K. Henry VIII.

“&lblank; a loss of her,
“That like a jewel has hung twenty years
“About his neck, yet never lost her lustre.”

The word her having occurred just before in the line, the compositor probably repeated it inadvertently.

Malone. 10911376312. &lblank; If I could find example &c.] An allusion to the death of the queen of Scots. The play therefore was written in king James's time. &wblank;e. 10911377317. Part of his theme &c.] Add to my note.—We meet a similar phraseology in Twelfth Night: “Do me this courteous office as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.” Malone.

-- 144 --

10911378323. But with her most vile principal &lblank;] In my note, for alone read only. Add—It has the same signification again in this scene:
“He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty,
“But that he speaks.” Malone. 10911379Ibid. He who shall speak for her, is, afar off guilty,
But that he speaks.] To follow Johnson's note.—Dr. Johnson is certainly right. The same expression occurs in K. Henry V.
“Or shall we sparingly shew you far off
“The dauphin's meaning?” Malone. 10911380326. The second and the third nine, and some five.]

This line appears obscure, because the word nine seems to refer to both “the second and the third.” But it is sufficiently clear, referendo singula singulis. The second is of the age of nine, and the third is some five years old.

The same expression, as Theobald has remarked, is found in K. Lear:

“For that I am, some twelve or fourteen moonshines,
“Lag of a brother.” Malone. 10911381328. &lblank; do push on this proceeding.] The old copy reads: —doth push &c. which is more accurate than what hath been silently substituted in its place:
“&lblank; Camillo's flight,
“Added to their familiarity,
“&lblank; doth push on this proceeding” Malone. 10911382344. To follow Johnson's note ⁴.]

It is frequently used in the former sense in Othello, Act V.

“He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false.”

Again:

“&lblank; Thou art rash as fire
“To say that she was false.” Malone. 10911383345. With what encounter &c.]

To strain, I believe, here signifies to swerve. The word occurs again nearly in the same sense in Romeo and Juliet:

“Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use,
“Revolts &lblank;”

A bed-swerver has already occured in this play.

Malone. 10911384351. Thou would'st have poison'd good Camillo's honour.] How should Paulina know this? No one had charged the king with this crime except himself, while Paulina was absent, attending on Hermione. The poet seems to have forgot this circumstance. Malone.

-- 145 --

10911385360. And leave the growth untry'd &lblank;]

To follow Johnson's note ³.] Dr. Johnson's explanation of growth is confirmed by a subsequent passage:

“I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing,
“As you had slept between.”

So, in Pericles, 1609:

“Now to Marina bend your mind,
“Whom our fast-growing scene must find.” Malone. 10911386364. Missingly noted.] The sense is, I think, improved by Sir T. Hanmer's conjecture, which I believe to be right. “I have musingly noted,” means, I have viewed with admiration. So, in Holinshed's Chron. p. 921. “It made all the noblemen, ladies, and gentlemen, to muse what it should mean.” Again, in our author's Macbeth:
“Muse not, my worthy friends &lblank;.” Malone. 10911387379.

In my note, for 1608, read 1613. And add—Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634:

“&lblank; what a brow,
“Of what a spacious majesty he carries,
“Arch'd like the great-ey'd Juno's, &lblank;”

Spenser, as well as our author, has attributed beauty to the eye-lid:

“Upon her eye-lids many graces sate,
“Under the shadow of her even brows.” Faery Queen, B. II. c. iii. st. 25.

Again, in his 40th Sonnet:

“When on each eye-lid sweetly do appear
“An hundred graces as in shade they sit.” Malone. 10911388390. To follow Steevens's note.] Again, in Fitz-Jeoffery's Satires and Satirical Epigrams, 1617:
“O Venus, how a'-life I savour it!” Malone. 10911389391. &lblank; and was turn'd into a cold fish, for she &c.]

For has has here the signification of because. So, in Othello:

“&lblank; or for I am declin'd
“Into the vale of years.”

Again:

“Haply for I am black.” Malone. 10911390398. Looks on alike.] This is sense; but I suspect that a word was omitted at the press, and that the poet wrote:
Looks on both alike. Malone.

-- 146 --

10911391404. Your pardon Sir, for this;
I'll blush you thanks.] Should not this passage be rather pointed thus?
Your pardon Sir; for this
I'll blush you thanks. Malone. 10911392408. &lblank; and then your blood had been the dearer by I know how much an ounce.] I suspect that a word was omitted at the press. We might, I think, safely read:—by I know not how much an ounce. Malone. 10911393409. Add to my note ⁸.] So, in Myrrha, the Mother of Adonis, or Luste's Prodigies, &c. 1607:
“Leave we him touz'd in care, for worldly wee,
“Love to leave great men in their miserie.” Steevens. 10911394415. &lblank; the former queen is well?]

i. e. at rest; dead. In Antony and Cleopatra, this phrase is said to be peculiarly applicable to the dead:

“Mess.
First, madam, he is well? “leop.
Why there's more gold; but sirrah, mark;
“We use to say, the dead are well; bring it to that,
“The gold I give thee will I melt, and pour
“Down thy ill-uttering throat.”

So, in Romeo and Juliet, Balthazar speaking of Juliet, whom he imagined to be dead, says:

“Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.”

Again, in K. Henry IV. P. II.

“Ch. Just.
How does the king? “War.
Exceeding well. His cares are now all ended. “Ch. Just.
I hope not dead. “War.
He's walk'd the way of nature.”

Dr. Warburton's emendation is therefore certainly inadmissible.

Malone. 10911395426. Who was most marble there, changed colour.] I rather think, marble here means, hard-hearted, unfeeling. Malone. 10911396434. The fixure of her eye has motion in it.] To follow Steevens's note.—The reading of the old copy is strongly confirmed by our author's 88th Sonnet, where we meet a similar thought:
“&lblank; Your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
“Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived.” Malone. 10911397436. And from your sacred vials pour your graces &lblank;] The expression seems to have been taken from the sacred writings: “And I heard a great voice out of the temple, saying to the

-- 147 --

angels, go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth.” Rev. xvi. 1. Malone. 10911398444. After Steevens's note ³.] “&lblank; Some say, they [witches] can keepe devils and spirits, in the likeness of todes and cats.” Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, book I. c. 4. Tollet. 10911399446. And Fortune on his damned quarrel smiling &lblank;] After Steevens's note.—The reading proposed by Dr. Johnson, and his explanation of it, are strongly supported by a passage in our author's King John:
“&lblank; And put his cause and quarrel
“To the disposing of the cardinal.” Malone. 10911400447. &lblank; unseam'd him from the nave to the chops,] At the end of note ³.—The old reading is supported by the following passage in an unpublished play, entitled The Witch, by Thomas Middleton:
“Draw it, or I'll rip thee down from neck to navel,
“Though there's small glory in't &lblank;.” Malone. 10911401448. As whence the sun &c.] To follow Steevens's note p. 449.—Sir William Davenant's alteration of this passage affords a reasonably good comment upon it:
“But then this day-break of our victory
“Serv'd but to light us into other dangers,
“That spring from whence our hopes did seem to rise.” Malone. 10911402450. As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks.] This word is used in the old play of K. John, 1591, and applied, as here, to ordnance:
“&lblank; as harmless and without effect,
“As is the echo of a cannon's crack.” Malone. 10911403451. &lblank; So should he look
That seems to speak strange things.]

To follow Steevens's note ¹. p. 452.—i. e. that seems about to speak strange things. Our author himself furnishes us with the best comment on this passage. In Antony and Cleopatra, we meet with nearly the same idea:

“The business of this man looks out of him.”

-- 148 --

Again, in All's Well that ends Well:

“&lblank; Her business looks in her
“With an importing visage.”

Again, in A Midsummer Night's Dream:

“And let your prologue seem to say &c.”

Surely there is no need of alteration. Sir W. Davenant reads:

&lblank; that comes to speak strange things. Malone. 10911404455. Add to note ⁷.] Again, in the author's invocation to Wherever you see me, trust unto yourselfe, or the Mysterie of Lending and Borrowing. Seria Jocis, or the Tickling Torture, by Thomas Powell, London Cambrian, 1623:
“Thou spirit of old Gybbs, a quondam cooke,
“Thy hungry poet doth thee now invoke,
“T' infuse in him the juice of rumpe or kidney,
“And he shall sing as sweet as ere did Sidney.” Steevens. 10911405456. And the very points they blow &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note ³.—The substituted word was first given by Sir William Davenant, who in his alteration of this play, has retained the old, while at the same time he furnished the modern editors with the new, reading:
“I myself have all the other &lblank;
“And then from every port they blow,
“From all the points that seamen know.” Malone. 10911406464. &lblank; Silenced with that &lblank;] i. e. wrap'd in silent wonder at the deeds performed by Macbeth, &c. Malone. 10911407466. That, trusted home &lblank;]

Surely we ought to read— thrusted. The error is, I find, as old as the first folio. The added word, home, clearly shews, in my apprehension, that trusted [i. e. confided in] was not the author's word.

Thrusted is the regular participle from the verb to thrust, and, though now not often used, was perhaps common in the time of Shakspeare. So we meet in K. Henry V:

“With casted slough, and fresh legerity.” Malone. 10911408468. Time and the hour &lblank;] Add to my note, p. 469.— Again, in our author's 126th Sonnet:
“O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
“Do'st hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hower &lblank;” Malone. 10911409470. There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face.]

The meaning, I think, is—We cannot construe or discover

-- 149 --

the disposition of the mind by the lineaments of the face. The same expression occurs in The Second Part of K. Henry IV.

“Construe the times to their necessities.”

In Hamlet we meet a kindred phrase:

“These profound heaves
“You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them”

Our author again alludes to his grammar, in Troilus and Cressida, Vol. IX. p. 61.

“I'll decline the whole question.”

Dr. Johnson seems to have understood the word construction in this place, in the sense of frame or structure; but the schoolterm was, I believe, intended by Shakspeare.—In his 93d Sonnet, we find a contrary sentiment asserted:

“In manys' looks the false heart's history
“Is writ.” Malone. 10911410471. More is thy due than more than all can pay.]

More is due to thee, than, I will not say all, but, more than all, i. e. the greatest recompence, can pay.

There is an obscurity in this line, arising from the word all, which is not used here personally (more than all persons can pay), but for the whole wealth of the speaker. So, more clearly, in K. Henry VIII.

“More than my all is nothing.”

This line appeared obscure to Sir William Davenant, for he has altered it thus:

“I have only left to say
“That thou deservest more than I have to pay.” Malone. 10911411Ibid. Safe toward your love and honour.]
Safe (i. e. saved) toward you love and honour; and then the sense will be—“Our duties are your children, and servants or vassals to your throne and state; who do but what they should, by doing every thing with a saving of their love and honour toward you.” The whole is an allusion to the forms of doing homage in the feudal times. The oath of allegiance, or liege homage, to the king was absolute and without any exception; but simple homage, when done to a subject for lands holden of him, was always with a saving of the allegiance (the love and honour) due to the sovereign. “Sauf la foy que jeo doy a nostre seignor le roy,” as it is in Lyttleton. And though the expression be somewhat stiff and forced, it is not more so than many others in this play, and suits well with the situation of Macbeth, now beginning to

-- 150 --

waver in his allegiance. For, as our author elsewhere says,
“When love begins to sicken and decay,
“It useth an enforced ceremony.” &wblank;e. 10911412472. &lblank; My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.]
“&lblank; Lacrimas non sponte cadentes
“Effudit, gemitusque expressit pectore læto.” Lucan, lib. ix. Malone. 10911413Ibid. From hence to Invernesse,
And bind us further to you.]

The circumstance of Duncan's visiting Macbeth, is supported by history; for, from the Scotish Chronicle it appears, that it was customary for the king to make a progress through his dominions every year. “Inerat ei [Duncano] laudabilis consuetudo regni pertransire regiones semel in anno.” Fordun. Scotichron. lib. iv. c. 44.

“Singulis annis ad inopum querelas audiendas perlustrabat provincias.” Buchan. lib. vii.

Malone. 10911414476. The raven himself is hoarse &lblank;] Sir W. Davenant seems to have viewed this passage in the same false light in which it appeared to Dr. Warburton; for he reads
“There would be musick in a raven's voice,
“Which should but croak the entrance of the king.” Malone. 10911415Ibid. To follow note ⁹.] It was added by Sir William Davenant. Malone. 10911416Ibid. &lblank; nor keep peace between
The effect and it.] Add to my note, p. 477.—A similar expression is found in a book which our author is known to have read, the Tragicall Hystorie of Romeus and Juliet, 1562:
“In absence of her knight, the lady no way could
“Keep truce between her griefs and her, though ne'er so fayne she would.” Malone. 10911417478. That my keen knife &lblank;]

This word has been objected to, as being connected with the most sordid offices, and therefore unsuitable to the great occasion on which it is used. But, however mean it may sound to a modern ear, it was formerly a word of sufficient dignity, and is constantly used by Shakspeare and his contemporaries as synonymous to dagger. So, in Antony and Cleopatra:

-- 151 --

“&lblank; If knife, drugs, serpents have
“Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe.”

Again, ibid.

“&lblank; He is dead, Cæsar,
“Not by a hired knife &lblank;”

In the same play, we meet a marginal direction to Cleopatra to “draw a knife.” Again, in King Henry VI. P. II.

“&lblank; to keep your royal person
“From treason's secret knife.”

Again in Romeo and Juliet:

“Knife, lie thou there!”

Again, ibid.

“'Twixt my extremes and me, this bloody knife
“Shall play the umpire.”

Again, in this play of Macbeth:

“&lblank; That should against his murderer shut the door,
“Not bear the knife myself.”

Here it certainly was used for dagger, for it appears that Duncan was murdered with a dagger. Again, in Seneca's Hercules Oeteus, translated by Newton, 1581:

“But treason black, pale envy, deep deceipt,
“With privie knyfe of murder, step in streight.”

In the Induction to A Warning for Faire Women, a tragedy, 1599, the following stage-direction occurs: “Enter at one door Hystorie with drum and engine, Tragedie at another, in her one hand a whip, in the other hand a knife.”

This term, however, appears to have lost its ancient signification, and to have been debased in the time of Sir W. Davenant, for he has substituted another in its place:

“That my keen steel see not the wound it makes,
“Nor heav'n peep through the curtains of the dark &c.”

I do not see that much is obtained by this last alteration. Sir W. Davenant seemed not willing to quit the bed. If we were at liberty to make any change, I should prefer mantle. So, in Romeo and Juliet:

“Come civil night
“With thy black mantle.”

But blanket was without doubt the poet's word, and perhaps was suggested by the word coverture in the passage above quoted, note ⁶.

Malone. 10911418479. To follow Steevens's note ⁴.]

Again, in The Winter's Tale:

“&lblank; and make stale
“The glist'ring of this present.”

-- 152 --

Again, in Coriolanus:

“Shall I be charg'd no further than this present.” Malone. 10911419480. &lblank; To beguile the time,
Look like the time &lblank;] This expression is also found in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher:
“&lblank; Let's go off,
“And bear us like the time.” Malone. 10911420Ibid. After Steevens' second note.] The eighth book of Daniel's Civil Wars was not published, I believe, till after Macbeth had been acted. An edition of his Works, printed in folio, in 1602, contains only six books of the Civil Wars. Malone. 10911421481. This castle hath a pleasant seat.] This short dialogue between Duncan and Banquo, whilst they are approaching the gates of Macbeth's castle, has always appeared to me a striking instance of what in painting is termed repose. Their conversation very naturally turns upon the beauty of its situation, and the pleasantness of the air; and Banquo observing the martlet's nests in every recess of the cornice, remarks, that where those birds most breed and haunt, the air is delicate. The subject of this quiet and easy conversation gives that repose so necessary to the mind after the tumultuous bustle of the preceding scenes, and perfectly contrasts the scene of horror that immediately succeeds. It seems as if Shakspeare asked himself, What is a prince likely to say to his attendants on such an occasion. Whereas the modern writers seem, on the contrary, to be always searching for new thoughts, such as would never occur to men in the situation which is represented.—This also is frequently the practice of Homer, who from the midst of battles and horrors, relieves and refreshes the mind of the reader, by introducing some quiet rural image, or picture of familiar domestick life. Sir J. Reynolds. 10911422486. &lblank; I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition &lblank;] So, in The Tragedy of Cæsar and Pompey, 1607:
“Why think you, lords, that 'tis ambition's spur,
“That pricketh Cæsar to these high attempts?” Malone. 10911423487. Was the hope drunk &lblank;] The same expression is found in K. John

-- 153 --

“Oh where hath our intelligence been drunk,
“Where hath it slept?” Malone. 10911424489. But screw your courage to the sticking place,] At the end of note ⁵.—Sir William Davenant entirely misunderstood this passage. By the sticking place, he seems to have thought the poet meant the stabbing place, the place where Duncan was to be wounded; for he reads,
“Bring but your courage to the fatal place,
“And we'll not fail.” Malone. 10911425492. Their candles are all out.] The same expression occurs in Romeo and Juliet:
“Night's candles are burnt out.” Malone. 10911426493. After note ⁵.] To-night was first introduced by Sir W. Davenant. Malone. 10911427497. After note ⁴.] Now was inserted by Sir W. Davenant. Malone. 10911428498. With Tarquin's ravishing strides &lblank;]

After Steevens's note.—Mr. Steevens's observation is confirmed by many instances that occur in our ancient poets. So, in a passage by J. Sylvester, cited in England's Parnassus, 1600:

“Anon he stalketh with an easy stride
“By some clear river's lillie-paved side.”

Again, in our author's K. Rich. II.

“Nay rather every tedious stride I make &lblank;”

Thus also the Roman poets:

“&lblank; vestigia furtim.
“Suspenso digitis fert taciturna gradu.” Ovid. Fasti.
“Eunt taciti per mæsta silentia magnis
“Passibus” Statius, lib. x.

It is observable, that Shakspeare, when he has occasion, in his Rape of Lucrece, to describe the action here alluded to, uses a similar expression; and probably would have used this very word, if he had not been fettered by the rhime:

“Into the chamber wickedly he stalks.” Malone. 10911429501. To follow Steevens's note.] In Fletcher's Scornful Lady, Wilford and his mistress's sister eat a posset on the stage, before he retires to rest. Malone. 10911430505. &lblank; the multitudinous seas incarnardine.]

By the multitudinous seas the poet, I suppose, meant, not the various seas, or seas of every denomination, as the Caspian &c. but the seas which swarm with myriads of inhabitants. Thus Homer:

“&grP;&gro;&grn;&grt;&gro;&grn; &gre;&grp;&grap; &grI;&grX;&grQ;&grU;&grO;&grE;&grN;&grT;&grA; &grf;&gri;&grl;&grw;&grn; &gra;&grp;&gra;&grn;&gre;&gru;&grq;&gre; &grf;&gre;&grr;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gri;&grn;.”

-- 154 --

The word is used by Ben Jonson.—It is objected by a rhetorical commentator on our author, that Macbeth in his present disposition of mind would hardly have adverted to a property of the sea, which has so little relation to the object immediately before him; and if Macbeth had really spoken this speech in his castle of Invernesse, the remark would be just. But the critick should have remembered, that this speech is not the real effusion of a distempered mind, but the composition of Shakspeare; of that poet, who has put a circumstantial account of an apothecary's shop into the mouth of Romeo, the moment after he has heard the fatal news of his beloved Juliet's death;—and has made Othello, when in the anguish of his heart he determines to kill his wife, digress from the object which agitates his soul, to describe minutely the course of the Pontick sea.

Malone. 10911431Ibid. Making the green one red.] This thought is also found in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634:
“Thou mighty one that with thy power hast turn'd
“Green Neptune into purple.” Malone. 10911432506. My hands are of your colour &lblank;] A similar antithesis is found in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion, 1657:
“Your cheeks are black, let not your souls look white.” Malone. 10911433508.

To follow Dr. Farmer's note.—From the following passages in The Scornful Lady, by B. and Fletcher, which appeared about the year 1613, it may be collected that large breeches were then in fashion:

“Young Lov.

If it be referred to him [Savil, the old steward] if I be not found in carnation Jersie stockings, blue devils breeches with the gardes down, and my pocket in the sleeves, I'll ne'er look you in the face again.

“Sav.

A comlier wear, I wiss, it is, than your dangling slops.”

Again: “Steward, this is as plain as your old minikin breeches.”

Malone. 10911434513. Add at the beginning of note ⁶.] I once thought that the author wrote bath'd; but badg'd is certainly right. So, in the second &c. Malone. 10911435514. His silver skin laced with his golden blood.]

We meet the same antithesis in many other places. Thus, in Much ado about Nothing:

“&lblank; to see the fish
“Cut with her golden oars the silver stream.”

-- 155 --

Again, in The Comedy of Errors:

“Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs.” Malone. 10911436516. Look to the lady &lblank;] So, in Pericles, 1609:
“Look to the lady!—Oh—she's but o'erjoy'd.” Malone. 10911437517. Against the undivulg'd pretence.] To follow note ².— Pretence is generally used by Shakspeare for some clandestine scheme or plot; which I apprehend to be the case here. Malone. 10911438521. Lay your command &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note ².—The change was suggested by Sir W. Davenant's alteration of this play:
“Your majesty lays your commands on me,
“To which my duty is to obey.” Malone. 10911439Ibid. And I'll request your presence.]

I cannot help suspecting this passage corrupt, and would wish to read:

And I request your presence.

Macbeth is speaking of the present, and not of any future time. Sir W. Davenant, plausibly enough, reads:

And all request your presence. Malone. 10911440523. &lblank; as it is said
Marc Antony's was by Cæsar.] After Johnson's note.—These words were rejected by Sir W. Davenant. Malone. 10911441525. How you were borne in hand &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note ⁸. p. 526.—To bear in hand, is to sooth with hope, and fair prospects. Malone. 10911442526. We are men my liege.]

That is; we have the same feelings as the rest of mankind, and, as men, are not without a manly resentment for the wrongs which we have suffered, and which you have now recited.

I should not have thought so plain a passage wanted an explanation, if it had not been mistaken by Dr. Grey, who says, “they don't answer in the name of Christians, but as men, whose humanity would hinder them from doing a barbarous act.” This false interpretation he has endeavoured to support by the well-known line of Terence:

“Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.”

That amiable sentiment does not appear very suitable to a cut-throat.—They urge their manhood, in my opinion, in order to shew Macbeth their willingness, not their aversion, to execute his orders.

Malone.

-- 156 --

10911443532. But in them Nature's copy's not eterne.]

Dr. Johnson's interpretation is supported by a subsequent passage in this play:

&lblank; and our high-plac'd Macbeth
“Shall live the lease of Nature, pay his breath
“To time and mortal custom.”

Again, by our author's 13th Sonnet:

“So should that beauty which you hold in lease
“Find no determination.” Malone. 10911444Ibid.&lblank; ere the bat hath flown
His cloyster'd flight.] Bats are often seen flying round cloysters, in the dusk of the evening, for a considerable length of time. Malone. 10911445Ibid. The shard borne beetle] is the cock-chafer. Sir W. Davenant appears not to have understood this epithet, for he has given, instead of it,
&lblank; the sharp-brow'd beetle. Malone. 10911446537. Our hostess keeps her state.]

To follow Steevens's note ⁵.—A state appears to have been a royal chair with a canopy over it. So, in K. Henry IV. P. I:

“This chair shall be my state.”

Again, in Sir Thomas Herbert's Memoirs of Charles I: “The gentlemen that formerly waited, were permitted to perform their respective services in the presence, where a state was placed.” Again, ibid. “Where being set, the king under a state at the end of the room &lblank;.” Again, in The View of France, 1598: “Espying the chayre not to stand well under the state, he mended it handsomely himself, and then set him down to give them audience &lblank;.” Again, in Cambyses, a tragedy: “On the very rushes where the comedy is to dance, yea and under the state of Cambyses himself.”

Malone. 10911447543. The arm'd rhinoceros or the Hyrcan bear.] To follow Tollet's note.—Sir W. Davenant first read Hyrcanian. In The Third Part of K. Henry VI. we meet—the tygers of Hyrcania. Malone. 10911448544. Overcome us like a Summer's cloud.]

Add to my note.—So, in K. Richard II:

“This ague fit of fear is over-blown.”

Again, in K. Henry VI. P. I:

“And like a hermit over-pass'd thy days.”

Again, in K. Henry IV. P. II:

“But ere they come bid them o'er-read these letters.”

-- 157 --

Again, in our author's Venus and Adonis, 1593:

“Outstripping crows that strive to over-fly them.”

The word overcome is used by the author of The Lamentation of Marie Magdalene, in the same sense as it is in the text:

“With blode overcome were both his eyen.” Malone. 10911449546. Magot-pies &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note.—Magot-pies was changed to magpies by Sir W. Davenant. Malone. 10911450547. You lack the season &lblank;] Add to my note.—So also, by B. and Fletcher in The Scornful Lady:
“You have a season of your first mother in you.” Malone. 10911451548. To follow Steevens's note ¹.] Shakspeare seems to have been unjustly censured for introducing Hecate among the modern witches. Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, book iii. c. 2. and c. 16. and book xii. c. 3. mentions it as the common opinion of all writers, that witches were supposed to have nightly “meetings with Herodias, and the Pagan gods,” and “that in the night times they ride abroad with Diana, the goddess of the Pagans &c.”—Their dame or chief leader seems always to have been an old Pagan, as “the ladie Sibylla, Minerva, or Diana.” Tollet. 10911452550. Who cannot want the thought &lblank;]

The sense requires:

Who can want the thought &lblank;

Yet, I believe, the text is not corrupt. Shakspeare is sometimes incorrect in these minutiæ.

Malone. 10911453552. &lblank; our suffering country,
Under a hand accurs'd] There should not be a point after country. The construction is—our country suffering under a hand accursed. Malone. 10911454557. Black spirits and white,
Blue spirits and grey;]

The modern editors have silently deviated from Sir W. Davenant's alteration of Macbeth, from which this song hath been copied. Instead of “Blue spirits and gray,” we there find “Red spirits &c.” which is certainly right. In a passage already quoted by Dr. Johnson, from Camden, fairies are said to be red, black, and white.

Since the above was written, I have seen Middleton's Ms.

-- 158 --

play entitled The Witch, in which this song is found; and there also the line stands:

Red spirits and gray. Malone. 10911455561. &lblank; untill Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.] Prophesies of apparent impossibilities were common in Scotland; such as the removal of one place to another. Under this popular prophetick formulary the present prediction may be ranked. In the same strain peculiar to his country, says Sir David Lindsay:
“Quhen the Bas and the Isle of May
“Beis set upon the Mount Sinay,
“Quhen the Lowmound besyde Falkland
“Be liftit to Northumberland &lblank;.” Warton. 10911456562. And thy air &lblank;] To follow Johnson's note ⁶.—In support of Dr. Johnson's emendation, it may be observed, that the common people (of which rank the person who recited these plays to the transcriber probably was) almost universally pronounce the word air, as if it were written hair, and vice versa. Malone. 10911457563. &lblank; to the crack of doom.] To follow Steevens's note ⁷.—It was used so lately as the latter end of the last or the beginning of the present century, in a translation of one of the odes of Horace:
“&lblank; Unmov'd he hears the mighty crack &lblank;.” Malone. 10911458575. His title is affear'd.]

The reading of the old copy, with the change of only one letter, affords an easy sense:

Thy title is affear'd.

Poor country! wear thou thy wrongs! thy title to them is now fully established by law.—Or perhaps he addresses himself to Malcolm—Since you are so passive, continue to suffer the injury you now sustain: thy title is established by thy own pusillanimity.

The was, I conceive, merely the transcriber's mistake, from the similar sounds of the and thy, which are frequently pronounced alike.

For the substituted reading, his, there is no authority.

Malone. 10911459577. &lblank; summer-seeming.] Read—summer-seeding. The allusion is to plants; and the sense is, “Avarice is a perenial weed; it has a deeper and more pernicious root than

-- 159 --

lust, which is a mere annual, and lasts but for a summer, when it sheds its seed and decays.” &wblank;e. 10911460578. All these are portable.] Portable is, I think, here used for supportable; and ought to be printed with a mark of elision.—All these vices, being balanced by your virtues, may be endured. Malone. 10911461Ibid. Dy'd ev'ry day she liv'd.] The expression is borrowed from the sacred writings: “I protest by your rejoicing which I have in Christ Jesus, I die daily.” Malone. 10911462579. &lblank; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste.] From over-hasty credulity. Malone. 10911463583. Add to my note.] Again, in a poem by our author, entitled The Lover's Complaint:
“My woeful self that did in freedom stand,
“And was my own fee-simple.” Malone. 10911464586. This tune goes manly.]

To follow Steevens's note.—

Rowe's emendation is supported by a former passage in this play, where the word which he has introduced is used in a similar manner:

“Mach.
Went it not so? “Banq.
To the self-same tune and words.” Malone. 10911465592. Shall never sagg with doubt &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note ⁷. p. 593.—Again, in Wits, Fits, and Fancies, 1595: “He tooke exceptions to the traveler's bag, which he wore sagging down his belly before.” Malone. 10911466593. Where got thou that goose look?]

Perhaps Shakspeare wrote

Where got thou that ghost look?

still alluding to his paleness. This agrees with all the other epithets—cream-fac'd-linen cheeks—whey-fac'd.

Sir W. Davenant omits the line, but reads afterwards— What! Ghosts?—instead of—Geese, villain!

In this latter place I think geese right. In the former the mistake might have arisen from the similarity of the sounds. The old copy, however, it must be acknowledged, may be supported by this passage in Coriolanus:

“&lblank; ye souls of geese,
“That bear the shape of men, how have ye run
“From slaves that apes would beat?” Malone. 10911467594. &lblank; my May of life &lblank;]

Add to my note ⁴. p. 595.— The mistake, however, which is supposed to have happened

-- 160 --

in the text here, has likewise happened in Massinger's Roman Actor, 1622:

“&lblank; when I was mistress of myself,
“And in my way of youth pure and untainted &lblank;”

where way is clearly an error of the press.

Malone. 10911468596. Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff.]

To follow Steevens's note ⁷.—The recurrence of the word stuff in the original copy is certainly unpleasing; but I have no doubt that the old reading is the true one; because Shakspeare was extremely fond of such repetitions. Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra, we meet:

“Now for the love of love &lblank;”

Again, in All's Well that ends Well:

“The greatest grace lending grace.”

Again, ibid.

“&lblank; with what good speed
“Our means will make us means.”

Again, in K. Henry VIII:

“Is only grievous to me only dying.”

Again, in Romeo and Juliet:

“Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit.”

Again, ibid.

“Confusion's cure lives not in these confusions.”

Again, ibid.

“No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean.”

Again, ibid.

“These times of woe afford no time to woo.”

Again, in K. John:

“For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie
“Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown.”

Again, ibid.

“I trust I may not trust thee.”

Again, ibid.

“Believe me, I do not believe thee man.”

Again, in this play of Macbeth:

“Those he commands move only in command.”

Again, ibid.

“By the grace of grace.”

Again, in Troilus and Cressida:

“I charge thee use her well, even for my charge.”

With respect to the word stuft, however mean it may sound at present, it, like many other terms, has been debased by time, and appears to have been formerly considered as a word

-- 161 --

proper to be used in passages of the greatest dignity. Thus, we meet in Hamlet:

“If thou art made of penetrable stuff &lblank;.”

So, in Romeo and Juliet:

“Stuff'd as they say with honourable parts.”

Again, ibid.

“With unstuff'd brain.”

Again, in the Winter's Tale:

“Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
“Of stuff'd sufficiency &lblank;”

Again, in Julius Cæsar:

“Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.”

Again, in K. Henry VIII:

“There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends.”

Again, in Othello:

“Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war &lblank;”

Again, ibid.

“Yet do I hold it very stuff of the conscience
“To do no contriv'd murder.”

On which passage Dr. Johnson observes, that “stuff in the Teutonick languages is a word of great force. The elements (he adds) are called in Dutch hoefd stoffen, or head stuffs.”

Again, in The Tempest, in a passage where the author certainly aimed at dignity:

“&lblank; And like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
“Leave not a rack behind.—We are such stuff
“As dreams are made of.”

Spenser also affords an authority to the same purpose:

“And wants the stuff of wisdom him to stay.” Faery Queen. Malone. 10911469601. The way to dusty death.] To follow Steevens's note ⁸.— The reading of the first folio may be supported by a line written by Sir Philip Sydney on the same subject, which perhaps our author might have remembered:
“Our life is but a step in dusty way.” Malone. 10911470602. Add, after the first instance in my note.]

Again, in Pierce's Supererogation, or a New Praise of the Old Asse &c. 1593: “Who would have thought, or could have imagined, to have found the witt of Pierce so starved and clunged?” Again, in George Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576:

“My wither'd corps with deadly cold is clung.”

Again, in Heywood's Pleasant Dialogues and Dramas, 1637:

-- 162 --

“His entrails with long fast and hunger clung &lblank;” Steevens. 10911471608. &lblank; before my body
I throw my warlike shield.] One might be tempted to think that Shakspeare had this expression, which is uncommon, from Spenser:
“Her ample shield she threw before her face.” Faery Queen, B. III. c. xi. st. 25. Malone. 10911472609. Thy kingdom's pearl.] Add to my note, p. 610.— We meet a similar metaphor in Othello:
“The riches of the ship is come ashore.” Malone.

-- 163 --

10911473Page 3. After Dr. Farmer's note.]

The first edition of The Troublesome Raigne of John King of England, with the Discoverie of King Richard Cordelion's base Son, vulgarly named the Bastard Fawconbridge: also the Death of King John at Swinstead Abbey—As it was (sundry Times) publikely acted by the Queene's Majesties Players in the honourable Citie of London.— Imprinted at London for Sampson Clarke, 1591—has no author's name in the title. On the republication in 1611, the printer, who inserted the letters W. Sh. in order to conceal his fraud, omitted the in words—publikely—in the honourable Citie of London, which he was aware would proclaim this play not to be Shakspeare's King John; the company to which he belonged, having no publick theatre in London: that in Blackfriars being a private play-house, and the Globe, which was a publick theatre, being situated in Southwark. He also, probably, with the same view, omitted the following lines addressed to the Gentlemen Readers, which are prefixed to the first edition of the old play:

“You that with friendly grace of smoothed brow
“Have entertain'd the Scythian Tamburlaine,
“And given applause unto an infidel;
“Vouchsafe to welcome, with like curtesie,
“A warlike Christian and your countryman.
“For Christ's true faith indur'd he many a storme,
“And set himselfe against the man of Rome,
“Until base treason by a damned wight
“Did all his former triumphs put to flight.
“Accept of it, sweete gentles, in good sort,
“And thinke it was prepar'd for your disport.”

From the mention of Tamburlaine, I conjecture that Marlowe was the author of the old King John. If it was written by a person of the name of Rowley, it probably was the composition of that “Maister Rowley,” whom Meres mentions in his Wits Treasury, 1598, as “once a rare scholar of learned Pembroke Hall, in Cambridge.” W. Rowley was a player in the King's Company, so late as the year 1625, and can

-- 164 --

hardly be supposed to have produced a play thirty-four years before.

Malone. 109114745. And sullen presage of your own decay.] After Johnson's note ¹.—I do not see why the epithet sullen may not be applied to a trumpet, with as much propriety as to a bell. In our author's Henry IV. P. II. we find
“Sounds ever after as a sullen bell &lblank;.” Malone. 1091147510. Sir Robert's his like him.]

This ought to be printed:

“Sir Robert his like him.

His according to a mistaken notion formerly received, being the sign of the genitive case. As the text now stands, there is a double genitive.

Malone. 1091147611. To follow Theobald's note.] Mr. Theobald has not mentioned the most material circumstance relative to these three-farthing pieces, on which the propriety of the allusion entirely depends; viz. that they were made of silver, and consequently extremely thin. From their thinness they were very liable to be cracked. Hence B. Jonson, in his Every Man in his Humour, says: “He values me at a crack'd three-farthings.” Malone. 1091147712. I would not be Sir Nob &lblank;] The reading of the text was given by the second folio. The first has: “It would not be &c.” Malone. 1091147815. Now your traveller &lblank;] To follow Steevens's note ⁴.— So, in Sir Thomas Overbury's Characters, 1616 [Article, an Affected Traveller]: “He censures all things by countenances and shrugs, and speaks his own language with shame and lisping; he will choke rather than confess beere good drinke; and his tooth-pick is a main part of his behaviour.” Malone. 1091147925. Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er &lblank;]

Waft for wafted. So again, in this play:

“The iron of itself, though heat red hot &lblank;”

i. e. heated.

Steevens. 1091148030. Now shame upon you whe'r she does or no.]

Whe'r for whether. So, in an Epigram, by B. Jonson:

“Who shall doubt, Donne, whe'r I a poet be,
“When I dare send my epigrams to thee?”

Again, in De Confessione Amantis, 1532:

“That maugre where she wolde or not &lblank;.” Malone. 1091148131. But God hath made her sin &lblank;]

If part of this obscure sentence were included in a parenthesis, the sense would, perhaps, be somewhat clearer:

But God hath made her sin and her (the plague

-- 165 --

On this removed issue—plagued for her,
And with her) plague her son; his injury &c.

Instead of—“the beadle to her sin”—I would read—“the beadle to her sins.”

Removed, I believe, here signifies remote. So, in The Midsummer Night's Dream:

“From Athens is her house remov'd seven leagues.” Malone. 1091148237. Say shall the current of our right run on?] The first folio has “&lblank; rome on.” The present reading is found in the second folio. Malone. 1091148338. Before we will lay by our just-borne arms,]

The old copy reads—lay down. The alteration was made, by one of the modern editors, I suppose, on account of the word down recurring in the next line.—But the jingle was probably intended, and why should we change, when change is unnecessary?

Most of Shakspeare's repetitions offend the ear; but this appears to me rather to add strength and spirit to the passage.

Malone. 10911484Ibid. &lblank; mouthing the flesh of men.]

After Steevens's note ⁹. —I do not see any necessity for departing from the old copies. The two elder folios concur in reading mousing; a circumstance of the more weight, because many of the errors that occur in this play, in the first folio, are corrected in the second.

Mousing, though it is not very easy precisely to ascertain its meaning, is used in two other places by our author, apparently in the sense required here:

“A falcon tow'ring in her pride of place
“Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.” Macbeth.

Again, in the Midsummer Night's dream:

“Well mous'd, Lion!”

Mousing, I suppose, in all these places, means mamocking; tearing to pieces, as a cat tears a mouse.

When any sense can fairly be drawn from the old copies, we are, I think, bound to adhere to them.

Malone. 1091148539. A greater power than ye denies all this.]

I see no reason for substituting ye in the room of we, which is the reading of the old copy. Before I read Mr. Tollet's note, I thought, that by a greater power, the power of Heaven was intended.

It is manifest that the passage is corrupt, and that it must have been so worded, as that their fears should be styled their kings or masters, and not they, kings or masters of their fears;

-- 166 --

because in the next line mention is made of these same fears being deposed. Mr. Tyrwhitt's emendation produces this meaning by a very slight alteration, and is therefore, I think, entitled to a place in the text.

This passage in the folio is given to Faulconbridge, and in a subsequent part of this scene, all the speeches of the citizens are given to Hubert; which I mention, because these and innumerable other instances, where the same error has been committed in that edition, justifies some licence in transferring speeches from one person to another. From too great a scrupulousness in this respect, a speech in Measure for Measure is yet suffered to stand in the name of the Clown, though it evidently belongs to Abhorson. See Vol. II. p. 113.

Malone. 10911486Ibid. At your industrious scenes &lblank;]

I strongly suspect the poet wrote illustrious. So, in the next line:

Your royal presences &c.

Faulconbridge, in his former speech, enlarges much on the high dignity of the combatants:

“When the rich blood of kings is set on fire &lblank;”

Again:

“Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? Malone. 1091148740. Till their soul-fearing clamours &lblank;] i. e. soul-apalling. Malone. 1091148842. Here's a stay!]

In a subsequent scene in this play, to stay signifies to support:

“And he that stands upon a slippery place,
“Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.”

Again, in the last act we meet:

“What surety of the world, what hope, what stay,
“When this was now a king, and now is clay.”

Again, in The Tragedy of Cæsar and Pompey, 1607:

“And of him grac'd with titles well-deserv'd,
“Of country's father, stay of commonwealth &lblank;”

Again, ibid.

“Rob not my young years of so sweet a stay,
“Nor take from Rome the pillar of her strength.”

Again, in a copy of Verses addressed to the earl of Ormond, by John Davies of Hereford, printed in his Scourge of Folly, (about 1611)

“Great, glorious, sear'd, and much beloved earl,
“England's fast friend, and Ireland's constant stay.”

Again, in Tancred and Gismund, a tragedy, 1592:

“&lblank; O thou fond girl,
“The shameful ruin of thy father's house,

-- 167 --

“Is this my hoped joy? is this the stay,
“Must glad my grief-full years that waste away?”

These instances induce me to think that our author uses stay here for a partizan or supporter of a cause—“Here's an extraordinary supporter of the cause of France, that shakes &c.”

There is, I apprehend, no necessity that the metaphor here should suit with the image in the next line, which Dr. Johnson by his emendation seems to have thought requisite. Shakspeare seldom attends to the integrity of his metaphors.

Malone. 1091148944. Lest zeal now melted &lblank;]

To follow Steevens's note ³.— The allusion might, I think, have been to dissolving ice, and yet not be subject to Dr. Johnson's objection.

The sense may be—Lest the now zealous and well-affected heart of Philip, which but lately was cold as ice, and has newly been melted and softened by the warm breath of petitions &c. should again be congealed and frozen.—I rather incline to think this was the poet's meaning, because in a subsequent scene we meet a similar thought couched in nearly the same expressions:

“This act so evilly born shall cool the hearts
“Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal.” Malone. 1091149049. But for my hand &lblank;] For has here as in many other places the signification of because. So, in Othello:
“&lblank; or for I am declin'd into the vale of years.” Malone. 1091149150. Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?] This seems to have been imitated by Marston in his Insatiate Countess, 1603:
“Then how much more in me, whose youthful veins,
“Like a proud river, o'erflow their bounds &lblank;” Malone. 10911492Ibid. Be these sad sighs confirmers of thy words?]

For this reading there is no authority. Both the first and second folio, the only authentick copies of this play, read:

“Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?”

There is clearly no need of change. The sad signs are—the shaking of his head—laying his hand on his breast &c.

Malone. 1091149352. &lblank; here I and sorrows sit.]

I believe the author meant to personify sorrow, and wrote:

&lblank; here I and Sorrow sit;

which gives a more poetical image.

-- 168 --

The transcriber's ear might easily have deceived him, the two readings, when spoken, sounding exactly alike.

Malone. 1091149454. Among the high tides in the calendar.] After note ¹.—I do not suppose that the poet used high tides as synonymous to solemn seasons. The meaning, I apprehend, is—Why should this day be set down in the calendar, in golden letters, among the high tides and other remarkable occurrences, which are distinguished by a special mark? The high tides are marked in every almanack. Malone. 1091149559. What earthly name to interrogatories
Can task the free breath of a sacred king?]

The first and second folio both read:

What earthy name &lblank;
Can taste &c.

Earthy occurs in another of our author's plays:

“To do his earthy and abhor'd commands.”

To taste is used ludicrously in Twelfth Night: “That puts quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour”—To “taste the breath,” is, however, a very harsh phrase, and can hardly be right.

Breath for speech is common in our author. So, in a subsequent scene in this play:

“The latest breath that gave the sound of words.”

Again:

“Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse.”

In another play we meet—“breathing courtesy,” for—“verbal courtesy.”

In this passage there should, I think, be a comma after interrogatories. —What earthly name, subjoined to interrogatories, can force a king to speak and answer them?

Malone. 1091149667. I muse your majesty &lblank;] I muse, means here, as in other places, I wonder. So, in Macbeth:
“Muse not, gentle friends &lblank;” Malone. 1091149768. To arms, let's hie.] I would point thus:—To arms let's hie.—The proposition is, I believe, single. Let us begone to arms! Malone. 1091149870. &lblank; the fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon.]

To follow Steevens's note ⁴.—This passage has, I think, been misunderstood, for want of a proper punctuation. There should be, I apprehend, a comma after the word hungry:

Must by the hungry, now be fed upon.

i. e. by the hungry troops, to whom some share of this ecclesiastical

-- 169 --

spoil would naturally fall. The expression, like many other of our author's, is taken from the sacred writings: “And there he maketh the hungry to dwell, that they may prepare a city for habitation.” 107th Psalm.—Again: “He hath filled the hungry with good things, &c.” St. Luke, c. i. 53.

This interpretation is supported by the passage in the old play, which is here imitated:

“Philip, I make thee chief in this affair;
“Ransack their abbeys, cloysters, priories,
“Convert their coin unto my soldiers' use.”

When I read this passage in the old play, the first idea that suggested itself was, that a word had dropped out at the press, in the controverted line, and that our author wrote:

Must by the hungry soldiers now be fed on.

But the punctuation above recommended renders any alteration unnecessary.

Malone. 1091149971. But I will fit it with some better time.] The first and second folio both read—tune; which, I think, can hardly be right. We meet, however, in Macbeth: “Mac.
Went it not so? “Banq.
To the self-same tune and words.” Malone. 10911500Ibid. Sound on &c.]

After Steevens's note ⁷. p. 72.—I have since observed that one and on were in the time of our author pronounced alike. Hence the transcriber's ear might have been easily deceived.

That these words were pronounced in the same manner, appears from a quibbling passage in The Two Gentlemen of Verona:

“Speed.
Sir, your glove. “Valiant.
Not mine; my gloves are on. “Speed.
Why then this may be yours, for this is but one.

So, once was anciently written, as it was probably pronounced, ons. Throughout Massinger and Marston's plays, on is almost every where printed instead of one.

Malone. 1091150174. A whole armado of collected sail.]

The old copy exhibits the line thus:

A whole armado of conuicted sail.

The true reading, I believe, is, connected: u is constantly used in the folio for v; in the present instance one of the n's might have been turned upside down in the press, an accident which frequently happens. The words scattered and disjoined

-- 170 --

support this conjecture. Convicted, however, may be right, and might have meant subdued, destroyed, from the Latin participle convictus, or from the French convaincre. To convince is used, with equal licence, in the sense of to conquer:

“This malady convinces
“The great assay of art &lblank;” Macbeth. Malone. 1091150275. And stop this gap of breath &lblank;] The gap of breath is the mouth; the outlet from whence the breath issues. Malone. 1091150376. Thou art unholy &lblank;]

Both the first and second folio have:

Thou art holy &lblank;

Rowe reads:

“Thou art not holy to believe me so.” Malone. 1091150480. John lays you plots.]

I suspect Shakspeare wrote:

John lays your plots.

John is doing your business for you.

Malone. 10911505Ibid. No scape of Nature &lblank;] After Steevens's note.— The word abortives in the latter part of this speech, referring apparently to these scapes of nature, confirms the emendation of the old copy that has been made. Malone. 1091150681. &lblank; they would be as a call &lblank;] The image is taken from the manner in which birds are caught; one being placed for the purpose of drawing others to the net, by his note or call. Malone. 1091150783. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul affect,] I suspect that the author wrote:
&lblank; for so foul a fact. Malone. 1091150889. Must make a stand &lblank;]

Both the first and second folio read:

Doth make a stand.

The change, I suppose, was made, because it was thought that all required a plural verb; but all here signifies the whole. Since the whole, and each particular part, of our wishes, doth make a stand &c. The old reading therefore may remain.

Malone. 1091150990. If what in rest you have &lblank;]

The argument, I think, requires that we should read

If what in rest you have, in right you hold not &lblank;

The word not might have dropped out at the press. If this was not the case, and the old reading be the true one, there ought to be a note of interrogation after the word

-- 171 --

exercise, at the end of the sentence; so that the meaning might be—If you are entitled to what you now quietly possess, why then should your fears move you &c.?

Malone. 1091151095. Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste &lblank;] It should be remembered that taylors generally work barefooted. Hence this newsmonger was under the necessity of putting on his shoes or slippers (whether on the right or the contrary feet), before he could communicate his intelligence to his friend the smith. Malone. 10911511109. Mocking the air with colours idly spread.] To follow Johnson's note ⁶.—From these two passages, Mr. Gray seems to have formed the first stanza of his celebrated ode:
“Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!
“Confusion on thy banners wait!
“Though fan'd by conquest's crimson wing,
“They mock the air in idle state.” Malone. 10911512115. After note ⁶.] So, in Massinger's Fatal Dowry, 1632:
“I look about and neigh, take hedge and ditch,
“Feed in my neighbour's pastures.” Malone. 10911513123. Why know you not? the lords are all come back,
And brought prince Henry in their company;
At whose request the king hath pardon'd them,
And they &c.] The punctuation of the folio has here been followed; but surely it is faulty. I would point thus:
Why know you not, the lords are all come back,
And brought prince Henry in their company?
At whose request the king hath pardon'd them:
And they are all about his majesty. Malone. 10911514Ibid. Is touch'd corruptibly.] Corruptibly for corruptively. The mistake was, however, probably the author's. Malone. 10911515125. In my note.]

Dele the words—“but which of the two poets borrowed from the other, it is not easy to determine;” and instead of—“a passage in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion”—read—the following passages. After the passage quoted, add this:

“O poor Zabina, O my queen, my queen,
“Fetch me some water for my burning breast,
“To cool and comfort me with longer date.” Marlowe's Tamburlaine, 1591.

At the end add—It must, however, have been written before 1593, in which year Marlowe died.

Malone.

-- 172 --

10911516127. This England never did, nor never shall,]

The words nor never shall ought to be included in a parenthesis; otherwise the next line but one,

But when it first &c.

is ungrammatical.

Malone. 10911517Ibid. If England to itself do rest but true.] After Steevens's note.—Shakspeare's conclusion seems rather to have been borrowed from these two lines of the old play:
“Let England live but true within itself,
“And all the world can never wrong her state.” Malone. 10911518134. What I have spoke or thou canst worse devise.]

The folio reads, more grammatically:

What I have spoken or what thou can'st devise.

The quarto of 1615:

What I have spoken or thou can'st devise.

For the present reading I have found no authority.

Malone. 10911519135. After Steevens's note ⁹.] Again, in a subsequent scene in this play:
“&lblank; Gaunt as a grave
“Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.” Malone. 10911520138. &lblank; that away,
Men are but guilded loam, or painted clay.]

In England's Parnassus, 1600, this line is quoted with some variation:

“Men are but guilded trunks, or painted clay.”

The first and all the subsequent quartos, however, have loam. Perhaps the editor of England's Parnassus quoted from a Ms. His reading may be the true one. It was anciently the custom to bestow very costly ornaments on the outside of trunks.

Malone. 10911521143. &lblank; Let him not come there
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where.] Perhaps the pointing might be reformed without injury to the sense:

-- 173 --

&lblank; let him not come there
To seek out sorrow—That dwells every where. Whalley. 10911522156. O who can hold a fire in his hand &lblank;]

By departing from the spelling of the old copy, the metre is defective. The quarto of 1615, reads:

O who can hold a fier in his hand &lblank;

Fier being written and probably pronounced as a dissyllable.

Malone. 10911523158. And he our subject's next degree in hope.]
Spes altera Romæ. Virg. Malone. 10911524161. Fear'd for their breed &lblank;]

After Steevens's note, p. 162.—The first and second folio both read:

Fear'd by their breed, and famous for their birth.

Mr. Rowe reads:

Fear'd for their breed, and famous for their birth. Malone. 10911525163. Should dying men flatter with those that live?] With has been supplied by some of the editors for the sake of the metre. Malone. 10911526Ibid. Giv'st thy anointed body &lblank;] All the old copies that I have seen, read:
Commit'st thy anointed body &lblank; Malone. 10911527165. In note ⁸, after—“crooked may mean armed with a crook,” add] So, in Kendall's Epigrams, 1577:
“The regall king and crooked clowne,
“All one alike death driveth downe.” Steevens. 10911528178. Go muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley, gentlemen.]

The folio exhibits the passage thus:

“&lblank; Come cousin,
“I'll dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster up your men,
“And meet me presently at Berkeley castle.”

The quarto of 1615—

“&lblank; Come cousin,
“I'll dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster up your men,
“And meet me presently at Berkley.”

Shakspeare seems to have designedly neglected the metre in this speech, perhaps to mark more strongly the perturbation of the speaker's mind.

Malone.

-- 174 --

10911529179. And yet your fair discourse.] The folio reads:
&lblank; our fair discourse. Malone. 10911530Ibid. And hope to joy &lblank;]

To joy is, I believe, here used as a verb. So, in the second act of this play: “Poor fellow never joy'd since the price of oats rose.” Again, in King Henry V:

“I do at this hour joy o'er myself.”

Again, in K. Henry VI. P. II:

“Was ever king that joy'd on earthly throne &lblank;.”

If joy be understood as a substantive, the common reading is scarcely English. We might read:

And hope of joy &lblank; Malone. 10911531181. My lord, my answer is to Lancaster;]

As this line is printed, the sense is obscure. It would be clearer thus:

“My lord, my answer is—to Lancaster.”

Your message, you say, is to my lord of Hereford. My answer is—It is not to him; it is to the duke of Lancaster.

Malone. 10911532182. After Johnson's note ⁵.] York's reply confirms Dr. Johnson's conjecture:
Even in condition &c. Malone. 10911533183. Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye.] i. e. with an impartial eye. “Every juryman,” says Sir Edward Coke, “ought to be impartial and indifferent.” Malone. 10911534186. &lblank; and disfigur'd clean.] Clean has here the signification of altogether, totally. So, in our author's 75th Sonnet:
“Sometimes all full with feasting on your sight,
“And by and by, clean-starved for a look.” Malone. 10911535189. As a long parted mother &lblank;]
“&grW;&grst; &gre;&gri;&grp;&grw;&grn;, &gra;&grl;&gro;&grx;&gro;&gri;&gro; &grf;&gri;&grl;&grh;&grst; &gre;&grn; &grx;&gre;&grr;&grs;&gri;&grn; &gre;&grq;&grh;&grk;&gre;
“&grP;&gra;&gri;&grd;&grap; &gre;&gro;&grn;&grcolon; &grh;&grap; &grd;&gra;&grr;&gra; &grm;&gri;&grn; &grk;&grh;&grw;&grd;&gre;&grid; &grd;&gre;&grc;&gra;&grt;&gro; &grk;&gro;&grl;&grp;&grwc;
“&grD;&grA;&grK;&grR;&grU;&grO;&grE;&grN; &grG;&grE;&grL;&grA;&grS;&grA;&grS;&grA;. Hom. Il. vi.

I would point thus:

As a long-parted mother with her child
Plays fondly, with her tears and smiles in meeting;
So weeping, smiling &c.

As a mother plays fondly with her child from whom she has been a long time parted, crying and at the same time smiling at meeting him &lblank;

Perhaps smiles is here used as a substantive.—If it be considered as a verb, I would read:

&lblank; and smiles in weeping. Malone.

-- 175 --

10911536Ibid. Guard it, I pray thee &lblank;] Guard it, signifies here, as in many other places, line it. Malone. 10911537190. That when the eye of heaven &lblank;]

The reading of the old copies is:

That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
Behind the globe, that lights the lower world.”

A slight transposition will restore the sense without changing a word:

That when the searching eye of heaven, that lights
The lower world, is hid behind the globe,
Then &c.

By the lower world, as the passage is amended by Dr. Johnson, we must understand, a world lower than this of ours; I suppose, our Antipodes. But the lower world may signify our world. Thus, in Measure for Measure:

“Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
“To the under generation.” Malone. 10911538191. Awake thou coward majesty! &lblank;]

This is the reading of the quartos.—The folio has:

Awake thou sluggard majesty!

The alteration was probably the author's. The epithet agrees with sleep, better than coward.

Malone. 10911539192.&lblank; and clasp their female joints
In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown.]

The quarto of 1615, and the folio both read:

And clap their female joints &lblank;

I see no need of change.

Malone. 10911540198. &lblank; the whole head's length.] The old copies (that I have seen) read:
&lblank; your whole head's length. Malone. 10911541199. To his most royal person.] Most has, I believe, been added by some modern editor, for the sake of the metre. The quarto of 1615, and the folio, have:
To his royal person. Malone. 10911542Ibid. &lblank; totter'd battlements.] The old copies (that I have seen) read—tattered. Malone. 10911543201. &lblank; he is come to ope
The purple testament of bleeding war] The poet seems to have had in his thoughts the sacred book, which is frequently covered with purple leather. Malone. 10911544Ibid. Shall ill become the flower of England's face;
Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To scarlet indignation &lblank;]

To follow Steevens's

-- 176 --

note.—The words face and peace have, perhaps, changed places. We might read:

But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill become the flower of England's peace;
Change the complexion of her maid-pale face
To scarlet indignation &lblank;

Ere the crown he hopes to obtain be settled peaceably on his head, ten thousand crowns, besmeared with blood, shall disfigure the flower of the peaceable nobility of England; and cause her maid-pale countenance to glow with indignation &c. The double opposition between crown and peace is much in our author's manner.

Malone. 10911545210. Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches &lblank;] All has been added by some of the modern editors, to the prejudice of the metre. Malone. 10911546Ibid. 'Tis doubt, he will be &lblank;] The reading of the folio is, I think, better:
'Tis doubted, he will be. Malone. 10911547Ibid. O I am prest to death through want of speaking.] The poet alludes to the ancient legal punishment called peine fort et dure, which was inflicted on those persons, who, being arraigned, refused to plead, remaining obstinately silent. They were pressed to death by a heavy weight laid upon their stomach. Malone. 10911548222. &lblank; a sovereign, a slave,] The folio reads:—a sovereignty. Rowe, I suppose, made the change, for which there does not seem any necessity. To make sovereignty a slave, is as proper an expression, as to make majesty a subject, or state a peasant. Malone. 10911549231. Yea look'st thou pale—let me see the writing.]

After what Dr. Johnson has said, I am almost afraid to offer a conjecture. Yet, I believe, Shakspeare wrote:

Boy, let me see the writing.

York uses these words a little lower.

Malone. 10911550238. Thou frantick woman what dost thou do here?]

The old copies read:

&lblank; what dost thou make here?

The expression, though now obsolete, frequently occurs in these plays. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor:

“What make you here?”

Again, in Othello:

“Ancient, what makes he here. Malone. 10911551Ibid. Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!] This line is not in the folio. Malone.

-- 177 --

10911552239. The chopping French &lblank;] Chopping, I believe, here means jabbering, talking flippantly a language unintelligible to Englishmen. I do not remember to have met the word, in this sense, in any other place. In the universities they talk of chopping logick; and our author in Romeo and Juliet has the same phrase:
“How now! how now! chop logick?” Malone. 10911553240. &lblank; cousin too adieu!] Too has been added by some modern editor. Malone. 10911554242. Note ³.]

The first folio reads:

Their watches on unto mine eyes.

The third quarto:

There watches on unto &c. Malone. 10911555244. For though it have holpe madmen to their wits,] The allusion, I believe, is to the persons bit by the tarantula, who are said to be cured by musick. Malone. 10911556252. No more the thirsty entrance of this soil &lblank;]

To follow Steevens's note ⁴. p. 253.—Mr. Steevens's conjecture is so likely to be true, that I have no doubt about the propriety of admitting it into the text.

It should be observed that supposing these copies to have been made out by the ear (which there is great reason to believe was the case), the transcriber might easily have been deceived; for entrance and entrants have nearly the same sound, and he would naturally write a familiar instead of an unusual word.

A similar mistake has happened in the first scene of King Henry V. where we meet (in the first folio)

“With such a heady currance scowring faults &lblank;.”

instead of—“With such a heady current &c.”

I do not know that the word entrant is found elsewhere; but Shakspeare has many of a similar formation. So, in K. Henry VI. P. I:

“Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants.

Again, ibid.

“But when my angry guardant stood alone &lblank;.”

-- 178 --

Again, in K. Lear:

“Than twenty silly ducking observants &lblank;”

Again, ibid.

“Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince.”

Sir Philip Sidney, in his Defence of Poesie, uses comedient for a writer of comedies.

Malone. 10911557254. &lblank; we will go,
Therefore we meet not now.]

Point thus:

&lblank; we will go:
Therefore we meet not now.

i. e. not on that account do we now meet;—we are not now assembled, to acquaint you with our intended expedition.

Malone. 10911558263. Add at the end of my first note.] Again, in Pierce's Supererogation, or a New Praise of the Old Asse, 1593: “&lblank; and here's a lusty ladd of the castell, that will binde beares, and ride golden asses to death.” Steevens. 10911559Ibid. After Dr. Farmer's note.]

From the following passage in The Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie, or the Walkes in Powles, quarto, 1604, it appears that Sir John Oldcastle (not, I conceive, the lord Cobham) was represented on the stage as a very fat man.—“Now, signors, how like you mine host? did I not tell you he was a madde round knave and a merrie one too? and if you chaunce to talke of fatte Sir John Oldcastle, he will tell you, he was his great grandfather, and not much unlike him in paunch.”—The host, who is here described, returns to the gallants, and entertains them with telling them stories. After his first tale, he says: “Nay gallants, I'll sit you, and now I will serve in another, as good as vinegar and pepper to your roast beefe.”Signor Kickshawe replies: “Let's have it, let's taste on it, mine host, my noble fat actor.”

The cause of all the confusion relative to these two characters, I believe, was this. Shakspeare appears evidently to have caught the idea of the character of Falstaff from a wretched play entitled The famous Victories of King Henry V. (which had been exhibited before 1589) in which there is a Sir John Oldcastle, (“a pamper'd glutton, and a debauchee,” as he is called in a piece of that age) who appears to be the character alluded to in the passage above quoted from The Meeting of Gallants &c. Our author probably never intended to ridicule the real Sir John Oldcastle, lord of Cobham, in any respect; but thought proper to make Falstaff, in imitation of his proto-type, a mad round knave also. From

-- 179 --

the first appearance of King Henry IV. the old play in which this Sir John Oldcastle had been exhibited, was probably never performed. Hence, I conceive, it is, that Fuller says, “Sir John Falstaff has relieved the memory of Sir John Oldcastle, and of late is substituted buffoon in his place;” which being misunderstood, probably gave rise to the story, that Shakspeare changed the name of his character.

Falstaff having thus grown out of, and immediately succeeding, the other character, having one or two features in common with him, and being probably represented in the same dress, and with the same fictitious belly as his predecessor, the two names might have been indiscriminately used by Field and others, without any mistake or intention to deceive. Perhaps, behind the scenes, in consequence of the circumstances already mentioned, Oldcastle might have been a cant-appellation for Falstaff, for a long time. Hence the name might have crept, in some play-house copy, into one of the speeches in The Second Part of King Henry IV.

Malone. 10911560266. Add to my note] So, in Newes from Hell, brought by the Divel's Carrier, by Thomas Decker, 1606: “As touching the river, looke how Moor-Ditch shews when the water is three quarters dreyn'd out, and by reason the stomacke of it is overladen, is ready to fall to casting. So does that; it stinks almost worse, is almost as poysonous, altogether so muddy, altogether so black.” Steevens. 10911561269. Now shall we know, if Gadshill have set a match.]

The folio reads—have set a watch—which is, perhaps, right. The same expression occurs in A New Trick to cheat the Devil, by Davenport, 1639:

“My watch is set—charge given—and all at peace.”

In a subsequent scene, when Gadshill enters, Poins says, “O 'tis our setter;” i. e. he whose business it was to set a watch, to observe what passengers should go by.

That a watch was set on those whom they intended to rob, appears from what Poins says afterwards: “Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid &lblank;.”

The error in the first quarto, which was followed by the others, might have arisen from a w being used by the compositor instead of an m, a mistake that sometimes happens at the press. In the hand-writing of our author's time, the two letters are scarcely distinguishable.

-- 180 --

In support, however, of the reading of the quartos, the following passage in Bartholomew Fair, by Ben Jonson, 1614, may be alleged: “Peace, Sir: they'll be angry if they hear you eaves-dropping, now they are setting their match.” Here the phrase seems to mean making an appointment.

Malone. 10911562278. And, I beseech his report &lblank;] The quarto of 1613 and the folio read—this report. Malone. 10911563287. But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship!] To follow Johnson's note.—I doubt whether the allusion was to dress. Half-fac'd seems to have meant paltry. The expression, which appears to have been contemptuous one, I believe, had its rise from the meaner denominations of coin, on which, formerly, only a profile of the reigning prince was exhibited; whereas on the more valuable pieces a full face was represented. So, in K. John:
“With that half face he would have all my land &lblank;
“A half-fac'd groat, five hundred pound a year!” Malone. 10911564293. I am stung like a tench.] Why like a tench? One would expect the similitude to consist in the spots of the fish, and those made by the bite of vermin. But unluckily a tench is not spotted. Malone. 10911565Ibid. Why they will allow us &lblank;] The folio, and quarto of 1613, read—you will allow us—may be right. He speaks to the ostler within. Malone. 10911566304. Thieves. Stand.] The quarto of 1613, and the folio, have—stay. Malone. 10911567308. Hang him! let him tell the king, we are prepared.] I would point thus: “Hang him! let him tell him king:—we are prepared.” Let him divulge our plot to the king when he will—I care not; for we are prepared. Malone. 10911568Ibid. In thy faint slumbers &lblank;] The folio, and the quarto of 1613, have—my faint slumbers. Malone. 10911569309. &lblank; of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;] After Steevens's note ¹.—The following lines in Notes from Black-fryars, by H. Fitz-Jeoffery, 1617, may serve to confirm the reading of the text, and to shew that there is no occasion for the alteration made by Sir T. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton:
“See Captain Martio—he i' the renounce me band;
“&lblank; let's remove
“Unto his ranke, if such discourse you love;
“He'll tell of basilisks, trenches, retires,
“Of palisadoes, parapets, frontires,
“Of culverins, and barricadoes too &lblank;.” Malone.

-- 181 --

10911570310. &lblank; I'll break thy little finger Harry.] This piece of amorous dalliance appeareth to be of a very ancient date; being mentioned in Fenton's Tragical Discourses, 1579: “Whereupon, I think, no sort of kysses or follyes in love were forgotten, no kynd of crampe, nor pinching by the little finger.” Amner. 10911571Ibid. &lblank; Away,
Away, you trifter! Love? I love thee not.]

To follow Johnson's note, p. 311.—The regulation proposed by Dr. Johnson seems to me unnecessary. The passage, without any alteration, will, I think, appear perfectly clear, if pointed thus:

&lblank; Away,
Away, you trifler!—love!—I love thee not.

The first love is not a substantive, but a verb:

&lblank; love thee!—I love thee not.

Hotspur's mind being intent on other things, his answers are irregular. He has been musing, and now replies to what lady Piercy had said some time before:

“Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
“And I must know it—else he loves me not.”

In a subsequent scent this distinguishing trait of his character is particularly mentioned by the prince of Wales, in his description of a conversation between Hotspur and lady Percy: O my sweet Harry, (says she) how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, say he, and answers— some fourteen—an hour after.

Malone. 10911572314. Add to my note ³.] So in Myrrha, the Mother of Adonis, or Luste's Prodigies, a poem, 1607:
“Forc'd her to skink so much, the juice ran o'er,
“So that Jove's drink wash'd the defiled floor.” Steevens. 10911573316. Caddice garter &lblank;] After Steevens's note ⁸. p. 317.— “At this day,” [1614] says Edm. Howes, the continuator of Stowe's Chronicle, “men of mean rank wear garters and shoe roses of more than five pounds a-piece.” Stowe's Annals, 1039. edit. 1631. Malone. 10911574317. Brown bastard.] After Steevens's note, p. 318.— Bastard is enumerated by Stowe among other sweet wines: “ When an Argosie came with Greek and Spanish wines, viz. muscadel, malmsey, sack, and bastard &c.” Annals, 867. Malone. 10911575322. I could sing all manner of songs.]

To follow Johnson's Johnson's note ⁶.—I believe, wherever the sacred name has been

-- 182 --

suppressed, or any expression bordering on profaneness altered, the alteration was made in consequence of the stat. 3 Jac. I. c. 21. Of the truth of this observation a speech of Falstaff's in this scene is a remarkable proof: “By the Lords. I knew ye as well as he that made ye.” Thus it stands in the quarto of 1598, and all the subsequent quartos, which were copied each from the other. But in the folio this characteristick exordium is omitted, and the passage stands— “I knew ye as well &c.” In another place, “'sblood my lord they are false,” is altered to “i' faith my lord, they are false,” though the answer shows that an cath was intended by the poet: “Swearest thou, ungracious boy?”

Shakspeare would never willingly have made Falstaff so unlike himself as to scruple adding an oath to his lies.

Malone. 10911576Ibid. In Steevens's part of note ⁵. after “&lblank; never sherry &lblank;” add—The difference between the true sack and sherry, is distinctly marked by the following passage in Fortune by Land and Sea, by Heywood and Rowley, 1655: “Rayns.
Some sack, boy &c. “Drawer.
Good sherry sack, Sir. “Rayns.
I meant canary, Sir: what, hast no brains?” Steevens. 10911577325. &lblank; two I am sure I have paid;]

i. e. drubbed, beaten. So, in Marlowe's translation of Ovid's Elegies, printed at Middleburgh (without date):

“Thou cozenest boys of sleep, and do'st betray them
“To pendants that with cruel lashes pay them.”

Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634:

“&lblank; Then as I am an honest man,
“I'll pay thee soundly.” Malone. 10911578326. To follow Johnson's note.] Points were metal hooks, fastened to the waistband of the hose or breeches (which had then no opening or buttons), and going into straps or eyes fixed to the doublet, and thereby keeping the hose from falling down. &wblank;e. 10911579338. Shall the blessed sun of heaven &lblank;] The folio and quarto of 1613, read—Son of heaven. Malone. 10911580341. &lblank; that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly,]

Add to my note ².—This place likewise appears to have been noted for the intemperance of its inhabitants. So, in Newes from Hell, brought by the Divel's Carrier, by Tho. Decker, 1606: “&lblank; you shall have a slave eat more at a

-- 183 --

meale than ten of the guard; and drink more in two days, than all Manningtree does at a Whitsun-ale.” Steevens.

It appears from Heywood's Apology for Actors, 1612, that. Manningtree formerly enjoyed the privilege of fairs, by exhibiting a certain number of stage-plays yearly. See also The Choosing of Valentines, a poem, by Thomas Nashe, Ms. in the Library of the Inner Temple:

“&lblank; or see a play of strange moralitie,
“Shewen by bachelrie of Manning-tree,
“Whereto the countrie franklins flock-meale swarme.”

Again, in Decker's Seven Deadly Sinnes of London, 1607: “Cruelty has got another part to play; it is acted like the old morals at Manning-tree.” In this season of festivity, we may presume it was customary to roast an ox whole. “Huge volumes, (says Osborne in his Advice to his Son) like the ox roasted whole at Bartholomew Fair, may proclaim plenty of labour and invention, but afford less of what is delicate, savoury, and well concocted, than smaller pieces.”

Malone. 10911581349. The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.] Shakspeare appears to have been as well acquainted with the rarer phœnomena, as with the ordinary appearances, of Nature. A writer in the Philosophical Transactions, N^o 207, describing an earthquake in Catanea, near Mount Ætna, by which eighteen thousand persons were destroyed, mentions one of the circumstances that are here said to have marked the birth of Glendower: “There was a blow, as if all the artillery in the world had been discharged at once; the sea retired from the town above two miles; the birds flew about astonished; the cattle in the fields ran crying.” Malone. 10911582Ibid. Where is he living &lblank;] The quarto of 1613, and the folio read—Where is the living— Malone. 10911583Ibid. &lblank; thrice from the banks of Wye,
And sandy bottom'd Severn, have I sent him,] The quarto of 1613, and the folio, read—have I hent him. Malone. 10911584350. England, from Trent, and Severn hitherto,] i. e. to this spot (pointing to the map.) Malone. 10911585Ibid. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here,] The division is here into three parts.—A moiety was frequently used by the writers of Shakspeare's age, as a portion of any thing, though not divided into two equal parts. See a note on K. Lear, Act I. sc. iv. Malone. 10911586352. &lblank; I'm glad on't with all my heart;] This vulgarism

-- 184 --

frequently occurs in the old copies; but here neither the transcriber nor compositor is to blame, for all the old editions, that I have seen, read—I am glad of it. Malone. 10911587357. Yet straight they shall be here.]

The quarto of 1613, and the folio have—And straight &c. Malone.

10911C30 Ibid, Add to my note.]

Again, in this play: “And the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours.” Malone.

10911588Ibid. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault.] The whole tenor of Hotspur's conversation in this scene shews, that the stillness which he here imputes to women as a fault, was something very different from silence; and that an idea was couched under these words, which may be better understood than explained.—He is still in the Welch lady's bed-chamber. Malone. 10911589358. To velvet guards, and sunday citizens.]

It appears from the following passage in The London Prodigal, 1605, that a guarded gown was the best dress of a city-lady in the time of our author:

“Frances.

But Tom, must I go as I do now, when I am married?

“Civet.

No, Frank [i. e. Frances], I'll have thee go like a citizen, in a garded gown, and a French hood.”

Malone. 10911590359. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor,] Next for nearest. So, in Massinger's Duke of Millaine, a tragedy, 1638:
“What's the letting out
“Of a little corrupt blood, and the next way too?” Malone. 10911591362. And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,]

Dr. Warburton's explanation of this passage appears to me very questionable. According to him, Henry steals a certain portion of courtesy out of heaven, as Prometheus stole a quantity of fire from thence. But the poet had not, I believe, a thought of Prometheus or the heathen gods, nor indeed was courtesy (even understanding it to signify affability) the characteristick attribute of those deities.

The meaning, I apprehend, is—I was so affable and popular, that I engrossed the devotion and reverence of all men to myself, and thus defrauded Heaven of its worshippers.

Courtesy is here used for the respect and obeisance paid by an inferior to a superior. So, in this play:

“To dog his heels and court'sy at his frowns.”

In Act V. it is used for a respectfull salute, in which sense it was applied to men as well as to women:

-- 185 --

“I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
“That he shall shrink under my courtesy.”

Again, in K. Henry IV. P. II:

“If a man will make curt'sy, he is virtuous.”

Again, in The Rape of Lucrece, 1594:

“The homely villain curt'sies to her low.”

This interpretation is strengthened by the two subsequent lines, which contain a similar thought:

“And dress'd myself in such humility,
“That I did pluck allegiance from mens' hearts.”

Henry robbed heaven of its worship, and the king of the allegiance of his subject.

Malone. Ibid. That I did pluck allegiance from mens' hearts,]

Apparently copied from Marlowe's Lust's Dominion, written before 1593:

“The Pope shall send his bulls through all thy realm,
“And pull obedience from thy subjects' hearts.” Malone. 10911592364. That, being daily swallow'd by mens' eyes &lblank;] Nearly the same expression occurs in A Warning for faire Women, a tragedy, 1599:
“The people's eyes have fed them with my sight.” Malone. 10911593369. I am a pepper-corn—a brewer's horse; the inside of a church:]

These last words were, I believe, repeated by the mistake of the compositor. Falstaff is here mentioning (as Mr. Tyrwhitt has observed) things to which he is very unlike; things remarkably small and thin. How can the inside of a church come under that description?

Perhaps, however, the allusion may be to the pious uses to which churches are appropriated.—“I am as thin as a brewer's horse; I am as holy as the inside of a church.” Or Falstaff may here be only repeating his former words— The inside of a church!—without any connexion with the words immediately preceding.

Malone. 10911594378. Nay an if I do, let my girdle break!]

The folio has: Nay if I do—The quarto, 1613,—Nay and I do— Malone.

&lblank; and if I do, let my girdle break!]

Perhaps this ludicrous imprecation is proverbial. So, in 'Tis Merry when Gossips meet, a poem, quarto, 1609:

“How say'st thou, Besse? shall it be so girle? speake:
“If I make one, pray God my girdle break!” Steevens.

-- 186 --

10911595383. &lblank; for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope;
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.]

I once wished to read—tread; but I now think, there is no need of alteration. To read a list is certainly a very harsh phrase, but not more so than many others of Shakspeare. At the same time that the bottom of their fortunes should be displayed, its circumference or boundary would be necessarily exposed to view. Sight being necessary to reading, to read is here used, in Shakspeare's licentious language, for to see.

The passage quoted from K. Hen. VI. strongly confirms this interpretation. To it may be added this in Romeo and Juliet:

“Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
“Which sees into the bottom of my grief?”

And this in Measure for Measure:

“And it concerns me
“To look into the bottom of my place.”

One of the phrases in the text is found in Twelfth Night:

“She is the list of my voyage.”

The other [the soul of hope] occurs frequently in our author's plays, as well as in those of his contemporaries. Thus, in A Midsummer Night's Dream, we meet:

“&lblank; the soul of counsel.”

Again, in Troilus and Cressida:

“&lblank; the soul of love.”

So also, in Marlowe's Lust's Dominion:

“&lblank; Your desperate arm
“Hath almost thrust quite through the heart of hope.” Malone. 10911596385. This absence of your father's draws a curtain,] i. e. draws it open. So, in a stage-direction in K. Henry VI. P. II. (quarto 1600): “Then the curtaines being drawne, duke Humphrey is discovered in his bed.” Malone. 10911597Ibid. &lblank; as this term of fear.] Folio—dream of fear. Malone. 10911598396. Gave him their heirs; as pages followed him,] The phrase of giving him their heirs, simply without any addition, appears to me very harsh. I would rather point the line thus:
Gave him their heirs as pages; followed him
Even at the heels &c. Malone. 10911599402. The dangers of the time.] The folio and quarto of 1613, read—danger. Malone.

-- 187 --

10911600406. Can honour set to a leg?] The folio reads, more intelligibly,
Can honour set, too, a leg? Malone. 10911601411. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;] The folio reads:
I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot. Malone. 10911602412. I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.] The folio reads: —o'er a Scot. Malone. 10911603416. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.] So, in Holinshed, p. 759: “&lblank; the earl of Richmond withstood his violence, and kept him at the sword's point without advantage, longer than his companions either thought or judged.” Steevens. 10911604421. To follow Steevens's note.] The same expression occurs in K. Henry V:
“And touch'd with choler, hot as gun-powder.” Malone. 10911605Ibid. Therefore, sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh &c.] Lord Lyttelton observes, that the Conqueror cashiered one of his knights, for wounding Harold in his thigh with a sword after he was slain; and thinks Shakspeare has here applied to Falstaff, what William of Malmsbury relates of Harold. Whalley. 10911606433. &lblank; devour the way] To follow Steevens's last note.— So, in one of the Roman poets (I forget which):
“&lblank; cursu consumere campun.” &wblank;e. 10911607447. Sounds ever after as a sullen bell &lblank;]

So, in our author's 71st Sonnet:

“&lblank; you shall hear the surly sullen bell
“Give warning to the world that I am fled.”

This significant epithet has been adopted by Milton:

“I hear the far-off curfew sound,
“Over some wide water'd shore
“Swinging slow with sullen roar.” Malone.

-- 188 --

10911608448. &lblank; and these news
Having been well, that would have made me sick &lblank;]

i. e. that would, had I been well, have made me sick.

There should be a comma after the word news.

Malone. 10911609449. &lblank; even so my limbs
Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with grief,
Are thrice themselves:]

Northumberland is here comparing himself to a person, who, though his joints are weakened by a bodily disorder, derives strength from the distemper of his mind. I therefore suspect that Shakspeare wrote:

Weaken'd with age &lblank;

or perhaps,

Weaken'd with pain &lblank;

The following line seems to confirm this conjecture:

“&lblank; hence therefore thou nice crutch!”

The crutch was used to aid the infirmity of limbs weakened by age or distemper, not by grief.

When a word is repeated, without propriety, in the same or two succeeding lines, there is great reason to suspect some corruption. Thus, in this scene, in the first folio, we meet “able heels,” instead of “armed heels,” in consequence of the word able having occurred in the preceding line. So, in Hamlet:

“Thy news shall be the news &c.”

instead of

“Thy news shall be the fruit &lblank;”

Again, in Macbeth:

“Whom we to gain our peace have sent to peace;”

instead of

“Whom we to gain our place &c.”

The mistake, I imagine, happened here in the same manner.

Malone. 10911610450. You were advis'd his flesh was capable &lblank;]

i. e. you knew; for such was the ancient signification of this word. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona:

“How shall I doat on her with more advice &lblank;”

i. e. on further knolwedge.

Malone. 10911611454. What said master Dombledon &lblank;] After note ⁷.— Mr. Steevens's conjecture is confirmed by a passage in a subsequent scene of this play, where the name of a silkmercer is introduced, evidently formed from the goods he dealed in: “And he's indited to dinner to the Lubbard's head in Lombard Street to master Smooth's the silkman.” In Measure for Measure, master Three-pile, the mercer, is mentioned. Malone.

-- 189 --

10911612456. Add to my last note] So, in The Fearful and Lamentable Effects of Two dangerous Comets &c. no date; by Nashe, in ridicule of Gabriel Harvey: “Paule's church is in wonderful perill thys yeare without the help of our conscionable brethren, for that day it hath not eyther broker, maisterless serving-man, or pennilesse companion, in the middle of it, the usurers of London have sworne to bestow a newe steeple upon it.” Steevens. 10911613459. To follow Steevens's note.] It should, however, be remembered, that there is no player in the list prefixed to the first folio, whose name begins with this syllable; and the part of Falstaff, we may be sure, was not performed by an obscure actor. See this matter differently accounted for, ante p. 178. Malone. 10911614Ibid. Add to my note:]

Names utterly unconnected with the personæ dramatis of Shakspeare, are sometimes introduced as entering on the stage. Thus, in The Second Part of K. Hen. IV. edit. 1600: “Enter th' Archbishop, Thomas Mowbray (Earle Marshall) the Lord Hastings, Fauconbridge, and Bardolfe.” Sig. B 4.—Again: “Enter the Prince, Poynes, Sir John Russell, with others.” Sig. C. 3.—Again, in K. Henry V. 1600: “Enter Burbon, Constable, Orleance, Gebon.” Sig. D 2.

Old might have been inserted by a mistake of the same kind; or indeed through the laziness of compositors, who occasionally permit the letters that form such names as frequently occur, to remain together, when the rest of the page is distributed. Thus it sometimes will happen that one name is substituted for another. This observation will be well understood by those who have been engaged in long attendance on a printing-house; and those to whom my remark appears obscure, need not to lament their ignorance, as this kind of knowledge is usually purchased at the expence of much time, patience, and disappointment.

Steevens. 10911615464. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle.] A diversion is common with boys in Warwickshire and the adjoining counties, on finding a toad, to lay a board about two or three feet long, at right angles, over a stick about two or three inches diameter, as per sketch.