Leonine.
Dion.
Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't:
'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
Thou canst not do a thing i' the world so soon,
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflaming love in thy bosom,
Inflame too nicely5 note
; nor let pity, which
Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.
Leon.
I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature.
Dion.
The fitter then the gods should have her. Here
She comes weeping for her old nurse's death6 note
.
Thou art resolv'd?
Leon.
I am resolv'd.
Enter Marina, with a Basket of Flowers.
Mar.
No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
To strew thy grave with flowers7 note: the yellows, blues,
-- 326 --
The purple violets, and marigolds,
Shall, as a carpet, hang upon thy grave,
While summer days do last. Ah me, poor maid!
Born in a tempest, when my mother died,
This world to me is like a lasting storm,
Whirring me from my friends.
Dion.
How now, Marina! why do you weep alone8 note?
How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have
A nurse of me9 note. Lord! how your favour's chang'd
With this unprofitable woe! Come, come;
Give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,
And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,
Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her1 note.
Mar.
No, I pray you;
I'll not bereave you of your servant.
Dion.
Come, come;
I love the king your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here: when he shall come, and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you;
Walk, and be cheerful once again: reserve
That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old. Care not for me;
-- 327 --
I can go home alone.
Mar.
Well, I will go;
But yet I have no desire to it.
Dion.
Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.—
Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least.
Remember what I have said.
Leon.
I warrant you, madam.
Dion.
I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while.
Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood:
What! I must have care of you.
Mar.
Thanks, sweet madam.—
[Exit Dionyza.
Is the wind westerly that blows?
Leon.
South-west.
Mar.
When I was born, the wind was north.
Leon.
Was't so?
Mar.
My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
But cry'd “good seamen!” to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands hauling ropes;
And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea
That almost burst the deck.
Leon.
When was this?
Mar.
When I was born:
Never were waves nor wind more violent;
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvass-climber. “Ha!” says one, “wilt out?”
And with a dropping industry they skip
From stem to stern2 note: the boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.
Leon.
Come; say your prayers.
Mar.
What mean you?
Leon.
If you require a little space for prayer,
I grant it. Pray; but be not tedious,
For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.
-- 328 --
Mar.
Why will you kill me?
Leon.
To satisfy my lady.
Mar.
Why would she have me kill'd?
Now as I can remember, by my troth,
I never did her hurt in all my life.
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature: believe me, la,
I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for it. How have I offended,
Wherein my death might yield her profit, or
My life imply her any danger?
Leon.
My commission
Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.
Mar.
You will not do't for all the world, I hope.
You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow
You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
When you caught hurt in parting two that fought:
Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:
Your lady seeks my life; come you between,
And save poor me, the weaker.
Leon.
I am sworn,
And will despatch.
Enter Pirates, whilst Marina is struggling.
1 Pirate.
Hold, villain!
[Leonine runs away.
2 Pirate.
A prize! a prize!
3 Pirate.
Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's
have her aboard suddenly.
[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.
-- 329 --
SCENE II.
Near the Same.
Enter Leonine.
Leon.
These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes;
And they have seiz'd Marina. Let her go:
There's no hope she'll return. I'll swear she's dead,
And thrown into the sea.—But I'll see farther;
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Mitylene. A Room in a Brothel.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and Boult.
Pand.
Boult.
Boult.
Sir.
Pand.
Search the market narrowly; Mitylene is full
of gallants: we lost too much money this mart, by
being too wenchless.
Bawd.
We were never so much out of creatures.
We have but poor three, and they can do no more
than they can do; and they with continual action are
even as good as rotten.
Pand.
Therefore, let's have fresh ones, whate'er we
pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used
in every trade we shall never prosper.
Bawd.
Thou say'st true: 'tis not the bringing up
of poor bastards, as I think, I have brought up some
eleven—
-- 330 --
Boult.
Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again.
But shall I search the market?
Bawd.
What else, man? The stuff we have, a
strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully
sodden.
Pand.
Thou say'st true; they're too unwholesome o'
conscience3 note. The poor Transilvanian is dead, that lay
with the little baggage.
Boult.
Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him
roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market.
[Exit Boult.
Pand.
Three or four thousand chequins were as
pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over—
Bawd.
Why, to give over, I pray you? is it a shame
to get when we are old?
Pand.
O! our credit comes not in like the commodity;
nor the commodity wages not with the danger:
therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some
pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched.
Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods
will be strong with us for giving over.
Bawd.
Come; other sorts offend as well as we.
Pand.
As well as we? ay, and better too; we offend
worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no
calling. But here comes Boult.
Enter Boult, and the Pirates with Marina.
Boult.
Come your ways. My masters, you say she's
a virgin?
1 Pirate.
O, sir! we doubt it not.
Boult.
Master, I have gone thorough for this piece,
you see: if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my
earnest.
-- 331 --
Bawd.
Boult, has she any qualities?
Boult.
She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent
good clothes: there's no farther necessity of
qualities can make her be refused.
Bawd.
What's her price, Boult?
Boult.
I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand
pieces.
Pand.
Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have
your money presently. Wife, take her in: instruct
her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her
entertainment.
[Exeunt Pander and Pirates.
Bawd.
Boult, take you the marks of her; the colour
of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant
of her virginity, and cry, “He that will give most,
shall have her first.” Such a maidenhead were no
cheap thing, if men were as they have been. Get this
done as I command you.
Boult.
Performance shall follow.
[Exit Boult.
Mar.
Alack, that Leonine was so slack, so slow!
He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,
(Not enough barbarous) had not o'erboard thrown me
For to seek my mother!
Bawd.
Why lament you, pretty one?
Mar.
That I am pretty.
Bawd.
Come, the gods have done their part in you.
Mar.
I accuse them not.
Bawd.
You are lit into my hands, where you are
like to live.
Mar.
The more my fault,
To 'scape his hands where I was like to die.
Bawd.
Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.
Mar.
No.
Bawd.
Yes, indeed, shall you, and taste gentlemen
of all fashions. You shall fare well: you shall have
the difference of all complexions. What! do you stop
your ears?
Mar.
Are you a woman?
-- 332 --
Bawd.
What would you have me be, an I be not a
woman?
Mar.
An honest woman, or not a woman.
Bawd.
Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall
have something to do with you. Come, you are a
young foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would
have you.
Mar.
The gods defend me!
Bawd.
If it please the gods to defend you by men,
then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men
stir you up.—Boult's returned.
Re-enter Boult.
Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market?
Boult.
I have cried her almost to the number of her
hairs: I have drawn her picture with my voice.
Bawd.
And I pr'ythee, tell me, how dost thou find
the inclination of the people, especially of the younger
sort?
Boult.
Faith, they listened to me, as they would
have hearkened to their father's testament. There was
a Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went4 note to bed to
her very description.
Bawd.
We shall have him here to-morrow with his
best ruff on.
Boult.
To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you
know the French knight that cowers i' the hams?
Bawd.
Who? monsieur Veroles?
Boult.
Ay: he offered to cut a caper at the proclamation;
but he made a groan at it, and swore he
would see her to-morrow.
Bawd.
Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease
-- 333 --
hither: here he does but repair it. I know, he will
come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the sun.
Boult.
Well, if we had of every nation a traveller,
we should lodge them with this sign.
Bawd.
Pray you, come hither awhile. You have
fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must seem
to do that fearfully, which you commit willingly; to
despise profit, where you have most gain. To weep
that you live as you do, makes pity in your lovers:
seldom, but that pity begets you a good opinion, and
that opinion a mere profit5 note.
Mar.
I understand you not.
Boult.
O! take her home, mistress, take her home:
these blushes of her's must be quenched with some
present practice.
Bawd.
Thou say'st true, i' faith, so they must; for
your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way
to go with warrant.
Boult.
Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress,
if I have bargained for the joint,—
Bawd.
Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult.
I may so?
Bawd.
Who should deny it? Come, young one, I
like the manner of your garments well.
Boult.
Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed
yet.
Bawd.
Boult, spend thou that in the town: report
what a sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by
custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant
thee a good turn; therefore, say what a paragon she is,
and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.
Boult.
I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so
awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty
stir up the lewdly inclined. I'll bring home some tonight.
-- 334 --
Bawd.
Come your ways; follow me.
Mar.
If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,
Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.
Diana, aid my purpose!
Bawd.
What have we to do with Diana? Pray you,
will you go with us?
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House.
Enter Cleon and Dionyza.
Dion.
Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?
Cle.
O Dionyza! such a piece of slaughter
The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon.
Dion.
I think,
You'll turn a child again.
Cle.
Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,
I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady!
Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o' the earth,
I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!
Whom thou hast poison'd too.
If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness
Becoming well thy face: what canst thou say,
When noble Pericles shall demand his child?
Dion.
That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
To foster it, nor ever to preserve.
She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?
Unless you play the pious innocent6 note,
-- 335 --
And for an honest attribute, cry out,
“She died by foul play.”
Cle.
O! go to. Well, well;
Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods
Do like this worst.
Dion.
Be one of those, that think
The pretty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit.
Cle.
To such proceeding
Who ever but his approbation added,
Though not his pre-consent7 note, he did not flow
From honourable courses.
Dion.
Be it so, then;
Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did disdain my child8 note, and stood between
Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face;
Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin9 note,
Not worth the time of day. It pierc'd me thorough;
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find,
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter.
Cle.
Heavens forgive it!
Dion.
And as for Pericles,
What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
And even yet we mourn: her monument
Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
In glittering golden characters express
-- 336 --
A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expense 'tis done.
Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, doth with thine angel's face,
Seize with thine eagle's talons.
Dion.
You are like one, that superstitiously
Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies:
But yet, I know, you'll do as I advise.
[Exeunt.
Enter Gower, before the Monument of Marina at Tharsus1 note.
Gow.
Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;
Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for't;
Making (to take your imagination2 note)
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language, in each several clime,
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you,
To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you,
The stages of our story. Pericles
Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
Attended on by many a lord and knight,
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late3 note
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,
-- 337 --
Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.
Well-sailing ships, and bounteous winds, have brought
This king to Tharsus, (think this pilot thought,
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on4 note)
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.
Dumb show.
Enter Pericles with his Train, at one door; Cleon and Dionyza at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the Tomb of Marina; whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on Sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs.
Gow.
See, how belief may suffer by foul show!
This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;
And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,
With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'er-show'r'd,
Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs;
He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now, please you, wit5 note
The epitaph is for Marina writ
By wicked Dionyza.
“The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year:
She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter.
-- 338 --
Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,
Thetis, being proud6 note, swallow'd some part o' the earth:
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
Wherefore she does (and swears she'll never stint)
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.”
No visor does become black villany,
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered
By lady fortune; while our scene must play
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel.
Enter from the Brothel, Two Gentlemen.
1 Gent.
Did you ever hear the like?
2 Gent.
No; nor never shall do in such a place as
this, she being once gone.
1 Gent.
But to have divinity preached there! did
you ever dream of such a thing?
2 Gent.
No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses.
Shall we go hear the vestals sing?
1 Gent.
I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but
I am out of the road of rutting for ever.
[Exeunt.
-- 339 --
SCENE VI.
The Same. A Room in the Brothel.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and Boult.
Pand.
Well, I had rather than twice the worth of
her, she had ne'er come here.
Bawd.
Fie, fie upon her! she is able to freeze the
god Priapus, and undo a whole generation: we must
either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she
should do for clients her fitment, and do me the kindness
of our profession, she has me her quirks, her
reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her knees, that
she would make a puritan of the devil, if he should
cheapen a kiss of her.
Boult.
Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish
us of all our cavaliers, and make all our swearers
priests.
Pand.
Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for
me!
Bawd.
'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't, but by
the way to the pox. Here comes the lord Lysimachus,
disguised.
Boult.
We should have both lord and lown, if the
peevish baggage would but give way to customers.
Enter Lysimachus.
Lys.
How now! How a dozen of virginities?
Bawd.
Now, the gods to-bless your honour!
Boult.
I am glad to see your honour in good health.
Lys.
You may so; 'tis the better for you that your
resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, wholesome
-- 340 --
iniquity7 note! have you that a man may deal withal,
and defy the surgeon?
Bawd.
We have here one, sir, if she would—but
there never came her like in Mitylene.
Lys.
If she'd do the deeds of darkness, thou would'st
say.
Bawd.
Your honour knows what 'tis to say, well
enough.
Lys.
Well; call forth, call forth.
Boult.
For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you
shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had
but—
Lys.
What, pr'ythee?
Boult.
O, sir! I can be modest.
Lys.
That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less
than it gives a good report to a number to be chaste.
Enter Marina.
Bawd.
Here comes that which grows to the stalk;—
never plucked yet, I can assure you.—Is she not a fair
creature?
Lys.
Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at
sea. Well, there's for you: leave us.
Bawd.
I beseech your honour, give me leave: a
word, and I'll have done presently.
Lys.
I beseech you, do.
Bawd.
First, I would have you note, this is an
honourable man.
[To Marina.
Mar.
I desire to find him so, that I may worthily
note him.
Bawd.
Next, he's the governor of this country, and
a man whom I am bound to.
Mar.
If he govern the country, you are bound to
-- 341 --
him indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know
not.
Bawd.
'Pray you, without any more virginal fencing,
will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with
gold.
Mar.
What he will do graciously, I will thankfully
receive.
Lys.
Have you done?
Bawd.
My lord, she's not paced yet; you must take
some pains to work her to your manage. Come, we
will leave his honour and her together. Go thy ways8 note.
[Exeunt Bawd, Pander, and Boult.
Lys.
Now, pretty one, how long have you been at
this trade?
Mar.
What trade, sir?
Lys.
Why, I cannot name but I shall offend.
Mar.
I cannot be offended with my trade. Please
you to name it.
Lys.
How long have you been of this profession?
Mar.
Ever since I can remember.
Lys.
Did you go to it so young? Were you a
gamester at five, or at seven?
Mar.
Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.
Lys.
Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to
be a creature of sale.
Mar.
Do you know this house to be a place of such
resort, and will come into it? I hear say, you are
of honourable parts, and are the governor of this
place.
Lys.
Why, hath your principal made known unto
you who I am?
Mar.
Who is my principal?
-- 342 --
Lys.
Why, your herb-woman; she that sets seed and
roots of shame and iniquity. O! you have heard
something of my power, and so stand aloof for more
serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,
my authority shall not see thee, or else, look friendly
upon thee. Come, bring me to some private place:
come, come.
Mar.
If you were born to honour, show it now;
If put upon you, make the judgment good
That thought you worthy of it.
Lys.
How's this? how's this?—Some more;—be sage.
Mar.
For me,
That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
Hath plac'd me in this sty9 note
, where, since I came,
Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,—
That the gods
Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies i' the purer air!
Lys.
I did not think
Thou could'st have spoke so well; ne'er dream'd thou could'st.
Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,
Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here's gold for thee:
Persevere in that clear way thou goest,
And the gods strengthen thee!
Mar.
The gods preserve you!
Lys.
For me, be you thoughten
That I came with no ill intent; for to me
The very doors and windows savour vilely.
Farewell. Thou art a piece of virtue, and
I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.
-- 343 --
Hold, here's more gold for thee.
A curse upon him, die he like a thief,
That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost hear
From me, it shall be for thy good.
Enter Boult.
Boult.
I beseech your honour, one piece for me.
Lys.
Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper! Your house,
But for this virgin that doth prop it, would
Sink, and overwhelm you. Away!
[Exit Lysimachus.
Boult.
How's this? We must take another course
with you. If your peevish chastity, which is not worth
a breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope1 note,
shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like a
spaniel. Come your ways.
Mar.
Whither would you have me?
Boult.
I must have your maidenhead taken off, or
the common hangman shall execute it. Come your
way. We'll have no more gentlemen driven away.
Come your ways, I say.
Re-enter Bawd.
Bawd.
How now! what's the matter?
Boult.
Worse and worse, mistress: she has here
spoken holy words to the lord Lysimachus.
Bawd.
O, abominable!
Boult.
She makes our profession2 note as it were to stink
afore the face of the gods.
Bawd.
Marry, hang her up for ever!
Boult.
The nobleman would have dealt with her like
a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a snowball;
saying his prayers, too.
-- 344 --
Bawd.
Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure:
crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest
malleable.
Boult.
An if she were a thornier piece of ground
than she is, she shall be ploughed.
Mar.
Hark, hark, you gods!
Bawd.
She conjures: away with her. Would she
had never come within my doors.—Marry hang you!—
She's born to undo us.—Will you not go the way of
women-kind? Marry come up, my dish of chastity
with rosemary and bays!
[Exit Bawd.
Boult.
Come, mistress; come your way with me.
Mar.
Whither wilt thou have me?
Boult.
To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
Mar.
Pr'ythee, tell me one thing first.
Boult.
Come now, your one thing note
Mar.
What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?
Boult.
Why, I could wish him to be my master; or
rather, my mistress.
Mar.
Neither of these are so bad as thou art,
Since they do better thee in their command.
Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend
Of hell would not in reputation change:
Thou'rt the damn'd door-keeper to every coystrel3 note
That hither comes inquiring for his Tib;
To the cholerick fisting of each rogue thy ear
Is liable; thy food is such
As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
Boult.
What would you have me do? go to the wars,
would you? where a man may serve seven years for the
loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to
buy him a wooden one?
Mar.
Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty
Old receptacles, or common sewers, of filth;
-- 345 --
Serve by indenture to the common hangman:
Any of these ways are yet better than this;
For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak,
Would own a name too dear. That the gods
Would safely deliver me from this place!
Here, here's gold for thee.
If that thy master would gain by me4 note
,
Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
With other virtues, which I'll keep from boast;
And I will undertake all these to teach.
I doubt not but this populous city will
Yield many scholars.
Boult.
But can you teach all this you speak of?
Mar.
Prove that I cannot, take me home again,
And prostitute me to the basest groom
That doth frequent your house.
Boult.
Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I
can place thee, I will.
Mar.
But, amongst honest women?
Boult.
Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst
them. But since my master and mistress have bought
you, there's no going but by their consent; therefore,
I will make them acquainted with your purpose, and
I doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough.
Come; I'll do for thee what I can: come your ways.
[Exeunt.
-- 346 --
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
