Note return to page 1 for are read art.

Note return to page 2 *&lblank; deck'd with ceremonies.] Ceremonies, for religious ornaments. Thus afterwards he explains them by Cæsar's trophies; i. e. such as he had dedicated to the Gods.

Note return to page 3 [1] 1 &lblank; soar above the view of men,] Paterculus says of this Cæsar, animo super humanam & naturam & fidem evectus, which is finely expressed, if we understand it to signify that he aspired to a power that was contrary to the rights of nature, and to the duty and good faith he owed his country.

Note return to page 4 [2] 2 And I will look on both indifferently;] This is a contradiction to the lines immediately succeeding. If he lov'd honour, more than he fear'd death, how could they be both indifferent to him? Honour thus is but in equal balance to death, which is not speaking at all like Brutus; for, in a soldier of any ordinary pretensions, honour should always preponderate. We must certainly read, And I will look on death indifferently. What occasion'd the corruption, I presume, was, the transcribers imagining, the adverb indifferently must be applied to two things oppos'd. But the use of the word does not demand it; nor does Shakespear always apply it so. In the present passage it signifies neglectingly; without fear, or concern: And so Casca afterwards, again in this act, employs it. And dangers are to me indifferent. I weigh them not; nor am deterr'd on the score of Danger.

Note return to page 5 [3] 3 For once upon a raw and gusty day, &c.] This was the common exercise of such of the Roman nobility as delighted in the use of arms. Therefore Horace, speaking of one enervated by love, says, Cur timet flavum Tiberim tangere! On which Hermannus Figulus makes this comment—Natare, Nam Romæ; primæ adolescentiæ juvenes, præter cæteras gymnasticas disciplinas, etiam natare discebant, ut ad belli munera firmiores aptioresque essent. And he puts us in mind, from Suetonius, how expert a swimmer Julius Cæsar was.

Note return to page 6 [4] 4 His coward lips did from their colour fly,] A plain man would have said, the colour fled from his lips, and not his lips from their colour. But the false expression was for the sake of as false a piece of wit: a poor quibble, alluding to a coward flying from his colours.

Note return to page 7 [5] 5 &lblank; get the start of the majestick world, &c.] This image is extremely noble: it is taken from the olympic games. The majestic world is a fine periphrasis for the Roman empire: their citizens set themselves on a footing with Kings, and they called their dominion Orbis Romanus. But the particular allusion seems to be the known story of Cæsar's great pattern Alexander, who being asked, whether he would run the course at the Olympic games, replied, Yes, if the racers were Kings.

Note return to page 8 [6] 6 'Would he were fatter; &lblank;] Johnson, in his Bartholomew fair, unjustly sneers at this passage, in Knockham's speech to the Pig-woman. Come, there's no malice in fat folks; I never fear thee, and I can 'scape thy lean moon-calf there.

Note return to page 9 [7] 7 If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humour me. &lblank;] This is a reflexion on Brutus's ingratitude; which concludes, as is usual on such occasions, in an encomium on his own better conditions. If I were Brutus, (says he) and Brutus, Cassius, he should not cajole me as I do him. To humour signifies here to turn and wind him, by inflaming his passions. The Oxford Editor alters the last line to Cæsar should not love me. What he means by it, is not worth inquiring.

Note return to page 10 [8] 8 &lblank; and Children calculate;] Calculate here signifies to foretel or prophesy: For the custom of foretelling fortunes by judicial Astrology (which was at that time much in vogue) being performed by a long tedious calculation, Shakespear, with his usual liberty, employs the species [calculate] for the genus [foretel.]

Note return to page 11 [9] 9 And the complexion of the Element Is fev'rous &lblank;] We find from the preceding relation, that it was not one Element only which was disturbed, but all; being told that all the sway of Earth shook like a thing infirm; that the winds rived the knotty oaks; that the Ocean raged and foamed; and that there was a tempest dropping Fire. So that all the four Elements appear'd to be disorder'd. We should read therefore, The complexion of the Elements, which is confirm'd by the following line, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. Bloody referring to the water; fiery to the air and fire; and terrible to the earthquakes; as appears from Calphurnia's account, which is a comment on this line: Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds, Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.

Note return to page 12 *Remorse from Power: &lblank;] Remorse, for mercy.

Note return to page 13 [1] 1 Whereto the climber upward turns, &c.] Climber-upward should be printed with a hyphen to avoid an ambiguity, of climbing upwards or turning upwards, for, understood in the latter sense, the thought is absurd and defective.

Note return to page 14 †Will bear no colour, for the thing he is, Fashion it thus &lblank;] The metaphor from the wardrobe, when the Excellence of the fashion makes out for the defect of the colour.

Note return to page 15 [2] 2 Is not to morrow, boy, the first of March?] We should read Ides: For we can never suppose the speaker to have lost fourteen days in his account. He is here plainly ruminating on what the soothsayer told Cæsar [Act I. Scene 2.] in his presence, [&lblank; Beware the Ides of March.] The boy comes back and says, Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. So that the morrow was the Ides of March, as he supposed. For March, May, July, and October had six nones each, so that the fifteenth of March was the Ides of that month.

Note return to page 16 [3] 3 Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.] The editors are mightily mistaken: It was wasted but fourteen days; this was the dawn of the fifteenth, when the boy makes his report.

Note return to page 17 [4] 4 Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, &c.] That nice critic, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, complains that, of all kind of beauties, those great strokes, which he calls the terrible graces, and which are so frequent in Homer, are the rarest to be found in the following writers. Amongst our countrymen it seems to be as much confined to the British Homer. This description of the condition of conspirators, before the execution of their design, has a pomp and terror in it that perfectly astonishes. The excellent Mr. Addison, whose modesty made him sometimes diffident in his own genius, but whose true judgment always led him to the safest guides, (as we may see by those many fine strokes in his Cato borrowed from the Philippics of Cicero) has paraphrased this fine description; but we are no longer to expect those terrible graces which animate his original. O think, what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods. Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death. Cato. I shall make two remarks on this fine imitation. The first is, that the subjects of the two conspiracies being so very different, (the fortunes of Cæsar and the Roman Empire being concerned in the one; and that of a few auxiliary troops only in the other) Mr. Addison could not, with propriety, bring in that magnificent circumstance which gives one of the terrible graces of Shakespear's description; The Genius, and the Mortal Instruments Are then in Council &lblank; For Kingdoms, in the Pagan Theology, besides their good, had their evil Genius's, likewise; represented here, with the most daring stretch of fancy, as sitting in consultation with the conspirators, whom he calls their Mortal Instruments. But this, as we say, would have been too pompous an apparatus to the rape and desertion of Syphax and Sempronius. The other thing observable is, that Mr. Addison was so struck and affected with these terrible graces in his original, that instead of imitating his author's sentiments, he hath, before he was aware, given us only the copy of his own impressions made by them. For, Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with Horror all, and big with death, are but the affections raised by such forcible Images as these, &lblank; All the Int'rim is Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dream. &lblank; the State of Man Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then The Nature of an insurrection. Comparing the troubled mind of a conspirator to a state of Anarchy, is just and beautiful; but the int'rim, or interval, to an hideous vision, or a frightful dream, holds something so wonderfully of truth, and lays the soul so open, that one can hardly think it possible for any man, who had not some time or other been engaged in a conspiracy, to give such force of colouring to Nature.

Note return to page 18 [5] 5 No, not an Oath: if that the Face of men, &c.] The conspirators propose an oath as the sanction of their mutual faith. This, Brutus, very much in character, opposes: Because an oath was the usual cement of those lawless cabals, which have not virtue enough in themselves to keep their members together: On this consideration his argument against an oath turns: And the motives he thought sufficient to preserve faith amongst them, were these: The sufferance of their souls, i. e. their commiseration for expiring liberty: The time's abuse, i. e. the general corruption of manners which had reduced publick liberty to this condition; and which, that liberty restored, would reform. But now, what is The Face of men? Did he mean they had honest looks. This was a poor and low observation, unworthy Brutus, and the occasion, and the grandeur of his speech: Besides, it is foreign to the turn and argument of his discourse, which is to shew the strong cement of the confederacy, from the justice of their cause, not from the natural honour of the conspirators. His argument stands thus, You require an oath to keep us together; but sure the strong motives that drew us into confederacy will keep us confederated. These motives he enumerates; but The Face of men not being one of these motives must needs be a corrupt reading. Shakespear, without question, wrote, If that the Fate of men, Or of mankind, which, in the ideas of a Roman, was involved in the fate of their Republick. And this was the principal motive which engaged the God-like Brutus in the undertaking.

Note return to page 19 [6] 6 &lblank; high-sighted tyranny &lblank;] The epithet alludes to a hawk soaring on high and intent upon its prey.

Note return to page 20 [7] 7 &lblank; secret Romans, &lblank;] Secret, for federate, used because secrecy is an essential quality in confederations.

Note return to page 21 [8] 8 &lblank; do not stain The even virtue of our enterprize, Nor th' insuppressive mettle of our spirits, &c.] Admitting that the Opinion that the cause or actors wanted an Oath to hold them together, might be called a stain, (which yet I think it could not, because such opinion does not necessarily imply a suspicion of the honesty of either; or if it did, such suspicion could not stain it, as an oath is no unjust means of union; for it is only an unjust means used for a good end, that could be said to stain that end.) However, I say, admitting that such an opinion might be called a stain, yet here the metaphor employed will not allow the use of the term. For the expression of insuppressive mettle alludes to the elastic quality of steel, which, being forced beyond its tone, loses its spring, and thereby becomes incapable of keeping that machine in motion it is designed to actuate. To this idea the word even refers, signifying a constant moderate, well regulated tenour. To preserve therefore the integrity of the metaphor, I think we must read, &lblank; do not strain. i. e. beyond its natural and proper tone; the consequence of which will be the stopping the motion of the whole machine. So that the thought is this, The present temper of our spirits is like the virtue of a steel spring which pushes forward and preserves the motion of the machine: But now, if, to the force of this natural disposition, you add the artificial bond of an oath, you will overstrain it and destroy its power.

Note return to page 22 [9] 9 For he is superstitious grown of late, Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasie, of dreams, and ceremonies:] Cæsar, as well as Cassius, was an Epicurean. By main opinion Cassius intends a compliment to his sect, and means solid, fundamental opinion grounded in truth and nature: As by fantasie is meant ominous forebodings; and by ceremonies, atonements of the Gods by means of religious rites and sacrifices. A little after, where Calphurnia says, Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies, Yet now they fright me: &lblank; The poet uses Ceremonies in a quite different sense, namely, the turning accidents to omens, a principal superstition of antiquity.

Note return to page 23 [1] 1 &lblank; for he loves to hear, &c.] It was finely imagined by the poet, to make Cæsar delight in this sort of conversation. The Author of St. Evremond's life tells us, that the great Prince of Conde took much pleasure in remarking on the foible and ridicule of characters.

Note return to page 24 [1] 1 A woman well reputed; Cato's Daughter.] This false pointing should be corrected thus, A woman well reputed Cato's daughter. i. e. worthy of my birth, and the relation I bear to Cato. This indeed was a good reason why she should be intrusted with the secret. But the false pointing, which gives a sense only implying that she was a woman of a good character, and that she was Cato's daughter, gives no good reason: For she might be Cato's daughter, and yet not inherit his firmness; and she might be a woman well reputed, and yet not the best at a secret. But if she was well reputed Cato's daughter, that is, worthy of her birth, she could neither want her father's love to her country, nor his resolution to engage in its deliverance.

Note return to page 25 [a] [(a) Were. Mr. Theobald.—Vulg. heare.]

Note return to page 26 [a] [(a) Of evils. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. And evils.]

Note return to page 27 [2] 2 &lblank; and that great men shall press For tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognisance.] That this dream of the statue's spouting blood should signify, the increase of power and empire to Rome from the influence of Cæsar's arts and arms, and wealth and honour to the noble Romans through his beneficence, expressed by the words, From you, great Rome shall suck reviving blood, is intelligible enough. But how these great men should literally press for tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognisance, when the spouting blood was only a symbolical vision, I am at a loss to apprehend. Here the circumstances of the dream, and the interpretation of it, are confounded with one another. This line therefore, For tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognisance. must needs be in way of similitude only; and if so, it appears that some lines are wanting between this and the preceding; which want should, for the future, be marked with asterisks. The sense of them is not difficult to recover, and, with it, the propriety of the line in question. The speaker had said, the Statue signified, that by Cæsar's influence Rome should flourish and increase in empire, and that great men should press to him to partake of his good fortune, just as men run with handkerchiefs, &c. to dip them in the blood of martyrs, that they may partake of their merit. It is true, the thought is from the Christian History; but so small an anachronism is nothing with our poet. Besides, it is not my interpretation which introduces it, it was there before: For the line in question can bear no other sense than as an allusion to the blood of the Martyrs, and the superstition of some Churches with regard to it.

Note return to page 28 [3] 3 To your proceeding &lblank;] Proceeding for advancement, establishment.

Note return to page 29 [1] 1 Might fire the blood of ordinary men,] It is plain we should read, Stir the blood &lblank; Submission does not fire the blood, but melt it to compassion; or, as he says just after, thaw it. So afterwards in this play he says, The power of speech to stir mens bloods.

Note return to page 30 [2] 2 And turn pre-ordinance &lblank;] Pre-ordinance, for ordinance already established.

Note return to page 31 [3] 3 In all the editions this speech is ascribed to Brutus, than which nothing is more inconsistent with his mild and philosohical character. But (as I often find speeches in the later editions put into wrong mouths, different from the first published by the author) I think this liberty not unreasonable. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 32 [4] 4 &lblank; crimson'd in thy Lethe.] Mr. Theobald says, The dictionaries acknowledge no such word as Lethe; yet he is not without supposition, that Shakespear coin'd the word; and yet for all that, the L. might be a D. imperfectly wrote, therefore he will have death instead of it. After all this pother, Lethe was a common French word, signifying death or destruction, from the latin lethum. So in Anthony and Cleopatra he says, &lblank; Ev'n to a lethi'd dulness. i. e. deadly.

Note return to page 33 [5] 5 &lblank; upon the limbs of men;] We should read, &lblank; line of men; i. e. human race.

Note return to page 34 [6] 6 &lblank; Countrymen and Lovers! &c.] There is no where, in all Shakespear's works, a stronger proof of his not being what we call a scholar, than this; or of his not knowing any thing of the genius of learned antiquity. This speech of Brutus is wrote in imitation of his famed laconic brevity, and is very fine in its kind. But no more like that brevity, than his times were like Brutus's. The ancient laconic brevity was simple, natural and easy: this is quaint, artificial, gingling, and abounding with forced antithesis's. In a word a brevity, that for its false eloquence would have suited any character, and for its good sense would have become the greatest of our author's time; but yet, in a stile of declaiming, that sits as ill upon Brutus as our author's trowsers or collar-band would have done.

Note return to page 35 [7] 7 Cæsar has had great wrong.] 3 Pleb. Cæsar had never wrong but with just cause. If ever there was such a line written by Shakespear, I should fancy it might have its place here, and very humourously in the character of a Plebeian. One might believe Ben Johnson's remark was made upon no better credit than some blunder of an actor in speaking that verse near the beginning of the third act, Know, Cæsar doth not wrong; nor without cause Will he be satisfied. &lblank; But the verse, as cited by Ben Johnson, does not connect with Will he be satisfied. Perhaps this play was never printed in Ben Johnson's time, and so he had nothing to judge by but as the actor pleased to speak it. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 36 [8] 8 That day he overcame the Nervii &lblank;] Here Shakespear, describing a great General, makes him put on his new habit, or robes of triumph, after his victory. Homer describing a vain-glorious one, makes him put them on before the fight, and while he only expected to overcome. &grd;&grap; &gres;&grn;&grd;&grua;&grn;&gre; &grx;&gri;&grt;&graa;&grn;&gra; &grK;&gra;&grl;&grog;&grn; &grn;&grh;&grg;&graa;&grt;&gre;&gro;&grn; &lblank;

Note return to page 37 [9] 9 Even at the Base of Pompey's Statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.] Plutarch tells us, that Cæsar received many wounds in the face on this occasion, so that it might be said to run blood. But, instead of that, the Statue, in this reading, and not the face, is said to do so; it is plain these two lines should be transposed: And then the reflection, which follows, O what a fall was there &lblank; is natural, lamenting the disgrace of being at last subdued in that quarrel in which he had been compleat victor.

Note return to page 38 for Now let it work read Ant. Now &c.

Note return to page 39 [1] 1 And things unluckily charge my fantasie;] Both for the sake of the sense and measure we should read, And thing unluckey charge my fantasie, i. e. unluckey things; for the ancient superstition divided things into luckey and unluckey.

Note return to page 40 [a] [(a) abject Orts. Mr. Theobald.—Vulg. objects, arts.]

Note return to page 41 [1] 1 In his own change, or by ill officers,] The sense of which is this, Either your master, by the change of his virtuous nature, or by his officers abusing the power he had intrusted to them, hath done some things I could wish undone. This implies a doubt which of the two was the case. Yet, immediately after, on Pindarus's saying, His master was full of regard and honour, he replies, he is not doubted. To reconcile this we should read, In his own charge, or by ill officers. i. e. either by those under his immediate command, or under the command of his lieutenants who had abused their trust. Charge is so usual a word in Shakespear, to signify the forces committed to the trust of a commander, that I think it needless to give any instances.

Note return to page 42 [2] 2 &lblank; ev'ry nice offence &lblank;] i. e. small trifling offence.

Note return to page 43 [3] 3 Remember March, &c. What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? &lblank;] The thought here is infinitely noble; yet by reason of the laconic brevity here represented, it is obscure. We must imagine Brutus speaking to this effect, Remember the ides of March, when we had a cause in hand, so great and sanctified that the most corrupt men, intent only on the public, cast aside all private regards, engaged in the cause of liberty, and stab'd for justice: remember too, that this is but the same cause continued; all corrupt and private motives should be therefore neglected and despised. This is the sense, in which the dignity of the sentiment, and the propriety of it to the case in hand, are altogether worthy the character of the speaker.

Note return to page 44 [4] 4 I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.] The poets and common people, who generally think and speak alike, suppose the dog bays the moon out of envy to its brightness; an allusion to this notion makes the beauty of the passage in question: Brutus hereby insinuates a covert accusation against his friend, that it was only envy at Cæsar's glory which set Cassius on conspiring against him; and ancient history seems to countenance such a charge. Cassius understood him in this sense, and with much conscious pride retorts the charge by a like insinuation, &lblank; Brutus, bay not me.

Note return to page 45 [5] 5 Go to; you are not Cassius.] We are not to understand this as if Brutus had said, You are not an able soldier, which would be wrangling on a childish question beneath the character of Brutus. On the contrary, when Cassius had made so unbecoming a boast, Brutus, in his reply, only reproves him for degeneracy: And he could not do it in words more pathetic than in saying, You are not Cassius; i. e. You are no longer that brave, disinterested, philosophic Cassius, whose character was made up of honour and patriotism; but are sunk down to the impotency and corruption of the times.

Note return to page 46 [6] 6 &lblank; than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash,] This is a noble sentiment, altogether in character, and expressed in a manner inimitably happy. For to wring, implies both to get unjustly, and to use force in getting: And hard hands signify both the peasant's great labour and pains in acquiring, and his great unwillingness to quit his hold.

Note return to page 47 [7] 7 Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.] But was this talking like Brutus? Cassius complained that his friend made his infirmities greater than they were. To which Brutus replies, not till those infirmities were injuriously turned upon me. But was this any excuse for aggravating his friend's failings? Shakespear knew better what was fit for his hero to say, and certainly wrote and pointed the line thus, I do not. Still you practice them on me. i. e. I deny your charge, and this is a fresh injury done me.

Note return to page 48 [8] 8 If that thou beest a Roman, take it forth. &c.] But why is he bid to rip out his heart, if he were a Roman? There is no other sense but this, If you have the courage of a Roman. But this is so poor, and so little to the purpose, that the reading may be justly suspected. The occasion of this quarrel was Cassius's refusal to supply the necessities of his friend, who charges it on him as a dishonour and crime, with great asperity of language. Cassius, to shew him the injustice of accusing him of avarice, tells him he was ready to expose his life in his service; but at the same time, provoked and exasperated at the other's reproaches, he upbraids him with the severity of his temper, that would pardon nothing, but always aimed at the life of the offender; and delighted in his blood, tho' a Roman, and attached to him by the strongest bonds of alliance; hereby obliquely insinuating the case of Cæsar. The sense being thus explained, it is evident we should read, If that thou needst a Roman's, take it forth. i. e. if nothing but another Roman's death can satisfy the unrelenting severity of your temper, take my life as you did Cæsar's.

Note return to page 49 [9] 9 I have as much of this in art, as you,] i. e. I have as much of that assistance which Philosophy affords as you have. Art for Philosophy.

Note return to page 50 [1] 1 Thou! awake.] The accent is so unmusical and harsh, 'tis impossible the poet could begin his verse thus. Brutus certainly was intended to speak to both his other men; who both awake and answer at an instant.

Note return to page 51 [1] 1 &lblank; ravens, crows and kites] A raven and a crow is the same bird of prey: the first name taken from its nature; the other from its voice. We should therefore read, &lblank; do ravenous crows and kites: Besides, this epithet denotes the circumstances that make the speaker consider them as birds of omen.

Note return to page 52 [2] 2 The very last time we shall speak together. What are you then determined to do?] i. e. I am resolved in such a case to kill myself. What are you determined of?

Note return to page 53 [3] 3 &lblank; arming myself with patience, &c.] It is evident, that, between these words and the foregoing, a sentence is dropped out to this effect [on the contrary, true courage is seen in the] arming myself with patience, &c. As the text stands at present, the two different sentiments of dislike and approbation are run together, as parts related to one another.

Note return to page 54 [4] 4 &lblank; being Cato's son.] i. e. worthy of him.

Note return to page 55 [5] 5 Luc. Only I yield to die; There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight;] This last line is unintelligible; the reason of which is the loss of the preceding. For by the circumstances I collect, that the reply of the soldier to the words, Only I yield to die, is wanting; which circumstances may lead us too to the discovery of what that reply was; and reciprocally by that reply to the recovery of the sense of this unintelligible line. I think then it appears probable, that when Lucilius had said, Only I yield to die; the soldier, by a very natural curiosity, pertinently demanded, Whether there was yet much resistance on the part of the enemy? To which Lucilius who had a mind to die, as pertinently answer'd, There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight; i. e. so much resistance still on foot, that thou wilt choose to rid me out of the way, that thou may'st go, without the embarras of prisoners, to the assistance of thy friends who still want it.

Note return to page 56 [1] 1 reneges] Renounces. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 57 [2] 2 The triple pillar of the world transform'd Into a Strumpet's fool. &lblank;] The metaphor is here miserably mangled. We should read, Into a Strumpet's stool. The pillar of the world, says he, is transformed into a strumpet's Stool. Alluding to the custom of strumpets sitting in the lap of their lovers. So Ajax in Troilus and Cressida, calls Thersites Thou stool for a witch. Shakespear too, in the use of pillar and stool, had regard perhaps to the etymology of the latter word, which comes from &grS;&grt;&grua;&grl;&gro;&grst;, columna.

Note return to page 58 [3] 3 bourn] Bound or limit. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 59 [4] 4 &lblank; and the wide arch] Taken from the Roman custom of raising triumphal arches to perpetuate their victories. Extremely noble.

Note return to page 60 [5] 5 to weet,] To know. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 61 [6] 6 Without some pleasure now: &lblank;] We should read new: A sentiment much in character of the luxurious and debauched Antony. It is the antithesis to conference harsh.

Note return to page 62 [7] 7 Oh! that I knew this husband, which you say, must change his horns with garlands.] This is corrupt; the true reading evidently is, must charge his horns with garlands, i. e. make him a rich and honourable cuckold, having his horns hung about with garlands.

Note return to page 63 [8] 8 Char. Oh, excellent! I love long life better than figs.] Here Shakespear has copied ancient manners with as much beauty as propriety: This being one of those ominous speeches, in which the ancients were so superstitious: For the aspicks, by which Charmian died, and after her mistress, were conveyed in a basket of figs. Omens (a superstition which Pythagoras first taught the Greeks) were the undesigned consequence of words casually spoken. The words were sometimes taken from the speaker, and applied by the hearers to the speaker's own affairs, as in the case of Paulus Æmilius, after his conquest of Macedon. Sometimes again the words of the speaker were transferred to the affairs of the hearer, as in the case of the same Paulus before his conquest of Macedon. Itaque rebus divinis quæ publicè fierent, ut faverent linguis, imperabatur. Cicero de Divin. l. 1.

Note return to page 64 [9] 9 Then, belike, my children shall have no names.] i. e. be of no note, a Greek mode of expression; in which language, &grd;&gri;&grwa;&grn;&gru;&grm;&gro;&grst; signifies both double-named and famous, because anciently famous men had an agnomen taken from their exploits.

Note return to page 65 [1] 1 If every of your wishes had a womb, And foretold every wish, a million.] This nonsense should be reformed thus, If ev'ry of your wishes had a womb, And fertil ev'ry wish, &lblank;

Note return to page 66 [2] 2 &lblank; extended Asia;] i. e. widened or extended the bounds of the lesser Asia.

Note return to page 67 [3] 3 When our quick winds lye still; &lblank;] We should read minds. The m was accidentally turn'd the wrong way at the press. The sense is this, While the active principle within us lies immerged in sloth and luxury, we bring forth vices instead of virtues, weeds instead of flowers and fruits: But the laying before us our ill condition plainly and honestly is, at it were, the first culture of the mind, which gives hopes of a future harvest. This he says to encourage the messenger to hide nothing from him.

Note return to page 68 [4] 4 &lblank; the present pleasure, By revolution lowring, does become The opposite of itself; &lblank;] The allusion is to the sun's diurnal course; which rising in the east, and by revolution lowering, or setting in the west, becomes the opposite of itself.

Note return to page 69 [5] 5 The cause of our expedience &lblank;] Expedience, for expedition.

Note return to page 70 [6] 6 &lblank; the courser's hair, &c.] Alludes to an old idle notion that the hair of a horse, dropt into corrupted water, will turn to an animal. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 71 [7] 7 &lblank; a race of heav'n. &lblank;] i. e. had a smack or flavour of heaven.

Note return to page 72 [a] [(a) salve. Mr. Theobald.—Vulg. save.]

Note return to page 73 [8] 8 &lblank; I'm quickly ill, and well, &lblank; So, Antony loves.] It should be pointed thus, I'm quickly ill and well: So Antony loves. So, i. e. thus fantastically and capriciously. But the common pointing makes her say the quite contrary.

Note return to page 74 [9] 9 Oh, my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.] The plain meaning is, My forgetfulness makes me forget my self. But she expresses it by calling forgetfulness, Antony; because forgetfulness had forgot her, as Antony had done. For want of apprehending this quaintness of expression, the Oxford Editor is forced to tell us news, That all forgotten is an old way of speaking, for apt to forget every thing.

Note return to page 75 [1] 1 But that your royalty Holds Idleness your subject, I should take you For Idleness itself.] i. e. But that your charms hold me, who am the greatest fool on earth in chains, I should have adjudged you to be the greatest. That this is the sense, is shewn by her answer, 'Tis sweating labour To bear such Idleness so near the heart, As Cleopatra, this. &lblank;

Note return to page 76 [a] [(a) immature in knowledge. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. being mature in knowledge.]

Note return to page 77 [2] 2 It hath been taught us from the primal State, That he, which is, was wish'd, until he were: And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love, Comes fear'd, by being lack'd.] Let us examine the sense of this in plain prose. The earliest histories inform us, that the man in supreme command was always wish'd to gain that command, till he had obtain'd it. And he, whom the multitude has contentedly seen in a low condition, when he begins to be wanted by them, becomes to be fear'd by them. But do the multitude fear a man, because they want him? Certainly, we must read; Comes dear'd, by being lack'd. i. e. endear'd a favourite to them. Besides, the context requires this reading; for it was not fear, but love, that made the people flock to young Pompey, and what occasion'd this reflexion. So in Coriolanus, I shall be lov'd, when I am lack'd.

Note return to page 78 [3] 3 &lblank; I will piece Her opulent throne with kingdoms. &lblank;] This expression of piecing her throne, is indeed tolerable; but barely so. No bungling carpenter could have expressed his labour worse. I suspect that Shakespear wrote, &lblank; I will pace Her opulent throne with kingdoms. i. e. I will erect an imperial throne for her, and every step up to it shall be a kingdom. The expression is noble, and the idea vastly magnificent.

Note return to page 79 [4] 4 And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed,] i. e. his steed worn lean and thin by much service in war. So Farefax, His stall-worn steed the champion stout bestrode.

Note return to page 80 [5] 5 Who neigh'd so loud, that what I would have spoke, Was beastly dumb by dim.] Mr. Theobald reads dumb'd, put to silence. Alexas means (says he) the horse made such a neighing that if he had spoke he could not have been heard. A very pretty speech, and agreeable to the politeness of one of Cleopatra's courtiers. Shakespear wrote, Who neigh'd so loud, that what I would have spoke Was beastly done by him. i. e. the sense of what I would have spoke the horse declared, tho' in inarticulate sounds. The case was this, Alexas came to take leave of Antony, who recommended a message to him to his mistress. Alexas then had no more to do but make his compliments: But in that instant Antony mounted his war-horse, long accustomed to bear him, who no sooner felt his master's weight, but, as is usual for horses of service, neighed in a very sprightly manner. This circumstance, (such a one as poets and romancers when they speak of their heros' adventures, never fail to improve) Alexas is made to turn to a compliment on Antony, which could not but please Cleopatra. I was going, says he, to pay my farewel compliments to Antony, to predict his future successes, and to salute him with the usual appellations of victory, when the horse got the start of me; and by his neighing so high and sprightly, shewed him to be sensible that he had a hero on his back whom he was bearing to conquest. But we are not to suppose that Alexas after this did not make his speech, but let the hero's horse do it for him. This was only a small interruption to his compliments, which, as a flattering circumstance, he mentions to please his mistress. The error of dumb for done, seems to have been occasioned by the editor's mistaking the word high for loud, whereas it here signifies sprightly.

Note return to page 81 for Cleo. read Char.

Note return to page 82 [6] 6 My sallad days: When I was green in judgment, cold in blood! To say, as I said then, &lblank;] This puzzles the late editor Mr. Theobald. He says, Cleopatra may speak very naturally here with contempt of her judgment at that period: But how truly with regard to the coldness of her blood may admit some question: And then employs his learning to prove, that at this cold season of her blood she had seen twenty good years. But yet he thinks his author may be justified, because Plutarch calls Cleopatra at those years, &grK;&groa;&grr;&grh;, which by ill luck proves just the contrary; for that state which the Greeks designed by &grK;&groa;&grr;&grh;, was the very height of blood. But Shakespear's best justification is restoring his own sense, which is done merely by a different pointing. My sallad days: When I was green in judgment. Cold in blood! To say as I said then. Cold in blood, is an upbraiding expostulation to her maid. Those, says she, were my sallad days, when I was green in judgment; but your blood is as cold as my judgment, if you have the same opinion of things now as I had then.

Note return to page 83 [1] 1 While we are suitors to their Throne, decays The thing we sue for.] This nonsense should be read thus, While we are suitors to their Throne, delay's The thing we sue for. Menecrates had said, The Gods do not deny that which they delay. The other turns his words to a different meaning, and replies, Delay is the very thing we beg of them. i. e. the delay of our enemies in making preparation against us; which he explains afterwards, by saying Mark Antony was tied up by lust in Ægypt; Cæsar, by avarice at Rome; and Lepidus employed in keeping well with both.

Note return to page 84 [a] [(a) a crescent Mr. Theobald—Vulg. are crescent.]

Note return to page 85 [2] 2 Were I the wearer of Antonio's beard, I would not shav't to day.] Alluding to the phrase, I will beard him.

Note return to page 86 [3] 3 &lblank; Your Wife and Brother Made Wars upon me, and their Contestation Was theam for you, you were the Word of War.] The only meaning of this can be, that the war, which Antony's wife and brother made upon Cæsar, was theam for Antony too to make war; or was the occasion why he did make war. But this is directly contrary to the context, which shews, Antony did neither encourage them to it, nor second them in it. We cannot doubt then, but the poet wrote; &lblank; and their contestation Was theam'd for you. i. e. The pretence of their war was on your account, They took up arms in your name, and you were made the theme and subject of their insurrection.

Note return to page 87 [4] 4 &lblank; my brother never Did urge me in his act: &lblank;] i. e. never did make use of my name as a pretence for the war.

Note return to page 88 [5] 5 I told him of my self; &lblank;] i. e. told him the condition I was in, when he had his last audience.

Note return to page 89 [6] 6 The Honour's sacred &lblank;] Sacred, for unbroken, unviolated.

Note return to page 90 [7] 7 I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech: &lblank;] What, not dislike the matter of it? when he says presently after, that he would do every thing to prevent the evil Enobarbus predicted. Besides, are we to suppose that common civility would suffer him to take the same liberty with Antony's lieutenant, that Antony himself did? Shakespear wrote, I do not much dislike the manner, but The matter of his speech: &lblank; i. e. 'tis not his liberty of speech, but the mischiefs he speaks of, which I dislike. This agrees with what follows, and is said with much urbanity, and show of friendship.

Note return to page 91 [8] 8 O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see &c.] Meaning the Venus of Protogenes mentioned by Pliny, l. 35. c. 10.

Note return to page 92 for Here read Her.

Note return to page 93 [9] 9 And made their bends adornings. &lblank;] This is sense indeed, and may be understood thus, her maids bowed with so good an air, that it added new graces to them. But this is not what Shakespear would say: Cleopatra, in this famous scene, personated Venus just rising from the waves: at which time the Mythologists tell us, the Sea-deities surrounded the goddess to adore, and pay her homage. Agreeably to this fable Cleopatra had dressed her maids, the poet tells us, like Nereids. To make the whole therefore conformable to the story represented, we may be assured, Shakespear wrote, And made their bends adornings. They did her observance in the posture of adoration, as if she had been Venus.

Note return to page 94 [1] 1 &lblank; which, but for vacancy Had gone &lblank;] Alluding to an axiom in the peripatetic philosophy then in vogue, that Nature abhors a vacuum.

Note return to page 95 [2] 2 If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle The heart of Antony, Octavia is A blessed lottery to him.] Methinks, it is a very indifferent compliment in Mecænas to call Octavia a lottery, as if she might turn up blank, as well as prove a prize to Antony. The poet wrote, as I have reform'd the text, allottery, there being as much difference between lottery and allottery, as between a present designation and a future chance.

Note return to page 96 [2] 2 I see it in my motion, &lblank;] i. e. the divinitory agitation.

Note return to page 97 [3] 3 Becomes a Fear, &lblank;] i. e. a fearful thing. The abstract for the concrete.

Note return to page 98 [5] 5 Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst I wore his sword Philippan. &lblank;] This is finely imagined. The speaker is supposed to do this in imitation of Omphale, in her treatment of Hercules the great ancestor of Antony.

Note return to page 99 [6] 6 Not like a formal man.] Formal, for ordinary.

Note return to page 100 [7] 7 I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee.] That is, I will give thee a kingdom; it being the eastern ceremony, at the coronation of their Kings, to powder them with gold-dust and seed-pearl: so Milton, &lblank; the gorgeous East with liberal hand Showers on her Kings barbaric pearl and gold. In the life of Timur-bec or Tamerlane written by a Persian contemporary author, are the following words, as translated by Monsieur Petit de la Croix, in the account there given of his coronation, Book ii. chap. 1. Les Princes du sang royal & les Emirs repandirent à pleines mains sur sa téte quantitè d'or & de pierreries selon la coûtume.

Note return to page 101 [8] 8 The good precedence; &lblank;] Precedence, for precedent.

Note return to page 102 [a] [(a) That say'st but what—Oxford Editor.—Vulg. That art not what &lblank;]

Note return to page 103 [9] 9 What counts hard fortune casts, &c.] Metaphor from making marks or lines in casting accounts in arithmetick.

Note return to page 104 [1] 1 I will praise any man that will praise me,] The poet's art in delivering this humourous sentiment (which gives us so very true and natural a picture of the commerce of the world) can never be sufficiently admired. The confession could come from none but a frank and rough character like the speaker's; and the moral lesson insinuated under it, that flattery can make its way thro' the most stubborn manners, deserves our serious reflexion.

Note return to page 105 [2] 2 They have made him drink alms-drink,] A phrase, amongst good-fellows, to signify that liquor of another's share which his companion drinks to ease him. But it satirically alludes to Cæsar and Antony's admitting him into the triumvirate, in order to take off from themselves the load of envy.

Note return to page 106 [3] 3 As they pinch one another by the disposition,] A phrase equivalent to that now in use, of Touching one in a sore place.

Note return to page 107 [4] 4 &lblank; thy pall'd fortunes &lblank;] Pall'd, i. e. dead. Metaphor taken from funeral solemnities.

Note return to page 108 [5] 5 Oh, Antony, you have my father's house.] The historian Paterculus says, Cum Pompeio quoque circa Misenum pax inita: Qui haud absurdè cum in navi Cæsaremque & Antonium cæna exciperet, dixit: In Carinis suis se cœnam dare: referens hoc dictum ad loci nomen, in quo paterna domus ab Antonio possidebatur. Our author, tho' he lost the joke, yet seems willing to commemorate the story.

Note return to page 109 [1] 1 &lblank; That, without the which A soldier and his sword grant scarce distinction:] Grant, for afford. It is badly and obscurely expressed; but the sense is this, Thou hast that, Ventidius, which if thou didst want, there would be no distinction between thee and thy sword. You would both be equally cutting and senseless. This was wisdom or knowledge of the world. Ventidius had told him the reasons why he did not pursue his advantages: And his friend, by this compliment, acknowledges them to be of weight.

Note return to page 110 [2] 2 That magical word of war, &lblank;] This admirably well expresses what the Romans meant by their Auspicium Ducis: in which they were so remarkably superstitious.

Note return to page 111 for Swan'd read Swan's.

Note return to page 112 [3] 3 Or I have no observance.] Observance, for observation or ability of observing.

Note return to page 113 [a] [(a) not took't. Dr. Thirlby.—Vulg. not look'd.]

Note return to page 114 [4] 4 &lblank; wars 'twixt you 'twain would be, &c.] The thought is wonderfully sublime. It is taken from Curtius's leaping into the gulf in the Forum, in order to close the gap. As that was closed by one Roman, so it is insinuated, that if the whole world were to cleave, Romans only could solder up the chasm. The expression is exact. For as metal is soldered by metal more pure and noble, so the globe was to be soldered up by men, who are only a more refined earth.

Note return to page 115 [5] 5 Which soon he granted, Being an Abstract 'tween his lust and him.] Antony very soon comply'd to let Octavia go at her request, says Cæsar; and why? Because she was an abstract between his inordinate passion and him; this is absurd. We must read, Being an Obstruct 'tween his lust and him. i. e. his wife being an obstruction, a bar to the prosecution of his wanton pleasures with Cleopatra.

Note return to page 116 [6] 6 Th' Antonias &c.] Which Plutarch says, was the name of Cleopatra's ship. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 117 [7] 7 The greater cantle &lblank;] A piece or lump. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 118 [8] 8 Ribauld] A luxurious squanderer. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 119 [9] 9 &lblank; and 'twas I, That the mad Brutus ended; &lblank;] Nothing can be more in character, than for an infamous debauched tyrant to call the heroic love of ones country and publick liberty, madness; yet the Oxford Editor changes it to sad Brutus.

Note return to page 120 [1] 1 Drink, and die.] This reply of Enobarbus seems grounded upon a particularity in the conduct of Antony and Cleopatra, which is related by Plutarch: that, after their defeat at Actium, they instituted a society of friends who entered into engagement to die with them, not abating in the mean time any part of their luxury, excess and riot, in which they had liv'd before. Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 121 [a] [(a) Drink, and die. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. think, and die.]

Note return to page 122 [2] 2 To lay his gay comparisons apart, And answer me declin'd, &lblank;] The sense is, let him not insist on the inequality of our conditions, but descend to my low estate, and meet me single. I suppose Shakespear coined the word comparisons analogically from the Italian, which says, vestito positivamente, to signify one cloathed simply and modestly, in opposition to the comparative and superlative. But, as usual, he has made it serve to quibble to—decline, another term of Grammar.

Note return to page 123 for The read Tho'.

Note return to page 124 [3] 3 He needs as many, Sir, as Cæsar has: Or needs not us. If Cæsar please, our master Will leap &c.] All sense is lost in this false pointing, which should be reformed thus, He needs as many, Sir, as Cæsar has; Or needs not us if Cæsar please. Our master Will leap &c. i. e. while he is at enmity with Cæsar he needs a power equal to Cæsar's; but if he pleases to receive Antony into his friendship he will then want no other support. This is sensible and polite.

Note return to page 125 [4] 4 &lblank; Cæsar intreats, Not to consider in what case thou stand'st Further than he is Cæsar.] i. e. Cæsar intreats, that at the same time you consider your desperate fortunes, you would consider he is Cæsar: That is, generous and forgiving, able and willing to restore them.

Note return to page 126 [5] 5 Most kind messenger; Say to great Cæsar this in Disputation, I kiss his conqu'ring hand: &lblank;] The poet certainly wrote, Most kind messenger, Say to great Cæsar this; in Deputation I kiss his conqu'ring hand: i. e. by Proxy; I depute you to pay him that duty in my name.

Note return to page 127 [6] 6 Like boys unto a muss, &lblank;] i. e. a scramble. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 128 [a] [(a) discandying. Dr. Thirlby.—First Folio. discandering.]

Note return to page 129 [7] 7 Were nice and lucky, &lblank;] Nice, for delicate, courtly, flowing in peace.

Note return to page 130 [1] 1 'Tis one of those odd tricks, &lblank;] The uniformity of the metaphor leads us to see that Shakespear wrote traits, arrows, shafts. A similar expression we have in Cymbeline: 'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, which the brain makes of fumes. J'ai eté quelque tems à entendre ce que vous voulez me dire par un trait que vos tirez contre moi, says M de Turenne in one of his letters; where the word trait has much the same signification as in the place before us. The Oxford Editor alters it to freaks; but sure any thing which is predicated of freaks may be predicated of tricks, and nonsense for nonsense, the old should keep its ground as being in possession.

Note return to page 131 [2] 2 &lblank; the witch take me, &lblank;] i. e. blast, bewitch.

Note return to page 132 for cheek read check.

Note return to page 133 [3] 3 Our will is, Antony be took alive;] It is observable with what judgment Shakespear draws the character of Octavius. Antony was his Hero; so the other was not to shine: yet being an historical character, there was a necessity to draw him like. But the ancient historians his flatterers, had delivered him down so fair, that he seems ready cut and dried for a Hero. Amidst these difficulties Shakespear has extricated himself with great address. He has admitted all those great strokes of his character as he found them, and yet has made him a very unamiable character, deceitful, mean-spirited, narrow-minded, proud and revengeful.

Note return to page 134 [4] 4 Shall bear the olive freely.] i. e. shall spring up every where spontaneously and without culture.

Note return to page 135 [5] 5 &lblank; and our oppression] Oppression, for opposition.

Note return to page 136 [6] 6 &lblank; run one before, And let the Queen know of our Guests; &lblank;] What Guests was the Queen to know of? Antony was to fight again on the morrow; and he had not yet said a word of marching to Alexandria, and treating his officers in the Palace. We must read, And let the Queen know of our Gests. i. e. res gestæ; our feats, our glorious actions. A term then in common use.

Note return to page 137 [7] 7 To this great Faiery &lblank;] For Inchantress, in which sense the word is often used in the old romances.

Note return to page 138 [8] 8 Chain mine arm'd neck; &lblank;] Alluding to the gothic custom of men of worship wearing gold chains about the neck.

Note return to page 139 [9] 9 Ride on the pants triumphing.] Alluding to an admiral ship on the billows after a storm. The metaphor is extremely fine.

Note return to page 140 [1] 1 Here Mr. Theobald restores an f deposed by the printer to make room for an s.

Note return to page 141 [2] 2 Bear our hackt targets, like the men that owe them.] i. e. hackt as much as the men are, to whom they belong.

Note return to page 142 [2] 2 &lblank; dispunge upon me,] Dispunge a word of his own invention, from the squeezing out a spunge upon any one.

Note return to page 143 [3] 3 Hark, how the drums demurely &lblank;] Demurely for solemnly. The Oxford Editor changes demurely to din early.

Note return to page 144 [4] 4 Where their appointment we may best discover, And look on their endeavour.] i. e. where we may best discover their numbers, and see their motions.

Note return to page 145 [5] 5 But being charg'd, we will be still by land, Which as I take't, we shall; &lblank;] i. e. unless we be charged we will remain quiet at land, which quiet I suppose we shall keep. But being charged was a phrase of that time, equivalent to unless we be, which the Oxford Editor not understanding, he has alter'd the lines thus, Not being charg'd, we will be still by land, Which as I take't we shall not.

Note return to page 146 [7] 7 &lblank; The hearts That pannell'd me at heels, &c.] Pannelling at heels must mean here, following: but where was the word ever found in such a sense? Pannel signifies but three things, that I know, in the English tongue, none of which will suit with the allusions here requisite; viz. That roll or schedule of parchment on which the names of a Jury are enter'd, which therefore is call'd empannelling; a pane or slip of wainscot; and a packsaddle for beasts of burden. The text is corrupt, and Shakespear must certainly have wrote; That pantler'd me at heels; i. e. run after me like footmen, or pantlers; which word originally signified the servants who have the care of the bread, but is used by our poet for a menial servant in general, as well as in its native acceptation. Thus in Cymbeline, A bilding for a liv'ry, a Squire's cloth, A pantler; &lblank; And Timon, &lblank; page thy heels, And skip when thou point'st out.

Note return to page 147 [8] 8 &lblank; to the very heart of loss.] i. e. to the very centre; alluding to the term of the heart of wood.

Note return to page 148 [9] 9 &lblank; most monster-like, be shewn For poor'st diminutives, for dolts; &lblank;] As the allusion here is to monsters carried about in shews, it is plain, that the words, for poorest diminutives, must mean for the least piece of money; we must therefore read the next word, for doits, i. e. farthings. which shews what he means by poorest diminutives.

Note return to page 149 [1] 1 With her prepared nails. &lblank;] i. e. with nails which she suffered to grow for this purpose.

Note return to page 150 [2] 2 Led thee lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' moon,] This image our poet seems to have taken from Seneca's Hercules, who says Lichas being lanched into the air, sprinkled the clouds with his blood. Sophocles, on the same occasion, talks at a much soberer rate.

Note return to page 151 [a] [(a) Led thee lodge Lichas,—Oxford Editor—Vulg. Let me lodge Lichas.]

Note return to page 152 [b] [(b) &lblank;thy worthiest self.—Oxford Editor—Vulg. my worthiest self.]

Note return to page 153 [3] 3 Packt cards with Cæsar, and false play'd my Glory Unto an enemy's triumph &lblank;] Shakespear has here, as usual, taken his metaphor from a low trivial subject; but has enobled it with much art, by so contriving that the principal term in the subject from whence the metaphor was taken, should belong to, and suit the dignity of the subject to which the metaphor is transferred: thereby providing at once for the integrity of the figure, and the nobleness of the thought. And this by the word triumph, which either signifies Octavius's conquests, or what we now call, contractedly, the trump at cards, then called the triumph or the triumphing sort. This use of the word fitted the venerable Latimer with a quibbling text to a sermon, preached to the scholars at Cambridge against card-playing, from Proverbs, as it is in the old translation, My son be wise, and make the heart triumph; which signified either, Make the heart glad, or make hearts trumps.

Note return to page 154 [4] 4 &lblank; seal then, and all is done.] Metaphor taken from civil contracts, where, when all is agreed on, the sealing compleats the contract; so he had determined to die, and nothing remain'd but to give the stroke. The Oxford Editor not apprehending this, alters it to &lblank; sleep then, &lblank;

Note return to page 155 [5] 5 Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,] But Dido's fondness did not reach to the other world: She then despised Æneas, and return'd to her old affection for Sichæus. Tandem corripuit sese, atque inimica refugit In Nemus umbriferum: Conjunx ubi pristinus illi Respondet curis, æquatque Sichæus amorem. I should think, therefore, that the poet wrote, Dido and her Sichæus &lblank; And the rather, because the comparison of Antony to Sichæus is remarkably apposite. Sichæus was murder'd by his brother Pygmalion for his wealth, on which his wife Dido fled into Africa: So Antony was fought with and defeated at Actium by his brother Octavius, for his share of the dominion of the world, whereon Cleopatra fled from the victor's rage into Ægypt.

Note return to page 156 [6] 6 O thou Sun, Burn the great Sphere thou mov'st in—darkling stand The varying shore o' th' world!] &lblank; The varying shore o' th' world! i. e. of the Earth, where light and darkness make an incessant variation. But then, if the Sun should set on fire the whole Sphere, in which he was supposed to move, how could the Earth stand darkling? On the contrary it would be in perpetual light. Therefore, if we will allow Cleopatra not to be quite mad, we must believe she said, Turn from th' great Sphere thou mov'st in! &lblank; i. e. forsake it, fly off from it: and then indeed the consequence would be, that the varying shore would become invariably dark.

Note return to page 157 [7] 7 And still conclusion, &lblank;] i. e. sedately collected in herself, which even the sight of me could not stir up into passion.

Note return to page 158 [8] 8 Peace, peace, Iras.] Cleopatra is fallen into a swoon; her maids endeavour to recover her by invoking her by her several titles. At length, Charmian says to the other, Peace, peace, Iras; on which Cleopatra comes to herself, and replies to these last words, No, you are mistaken I am a mere woman like yourself. Thus stands this senseless dialogue. But Shakespear never wrote it so: We must observe then, that the two women call her by her several titles, to see which best pleased her; and this was highly in character: the Ancients thought, that not only Men, but Gods too, had some names which, above others, they much delighted in, and would soonest answer to; as we may see by the hymns of Orpheus, Homer, and Callimachus. The Poet, conforming to this notion, makes the maids say, Sovereign Lady, Madam, Royal Ægypt, Empress. And now we come to the place in question: Charmian, when she saw none of these titles had their effect, invokes her by a still more flattering one; Peace, peace, Isis! for so it should be read and pointed: i. e. peace, we can never move her by these titles: Let us give her her favourite name of the Goddess Isis. And now Cleopatra's answer becomes pertinent and fine; No more but a mere woman; and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks. i. e. I now see the folly of assuming to myself those flattering titles of divinity. My misfortunes, and my impotence in bearing them, convince me I am a mere woman and subject to all the passions of the meanest of my species. Here the Poet has followed History exactly, and what is more, his author Plutarch in Antonio; who says, that Cleopatra assumed the habit and attributes of that Goddess, and gave judgments or rather oracles to her people under the quality of the NEW ISIS. &grK;&grl;&gre;&gro;&grp;&graa;&grt;&grr;&gra; &grm;&greg;&grn; &grg;&grag;&grr; &grk;&grag;&gri; &grt;&groa;&grt;&gre; &grk;&gra;&grig; &grt;&grog;&grn; &grasa;&grl;&grl;&gro;&grn; &grx;&grr;&groa;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gres;&gri;&grst; &grp;&grl;&grha;&grq;&gro;&grst; &gres;&grc;&gri;&gro;&gruc;&grs;&gra;, &grs;&grt;&gro;&grl;&grhg;&grn; &grer;&grt;&grea;&grr;&gra;&grn; &grir;&gre;&grr;&grag;&grn; &grI;&grS;&grI;&grD;&grO;&grST; &gres;&grl;&graa;&grm;&grb;&gra;&grn;&gre;, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grN;&grE;&grA; &grI;&grS;&grI;&grST; &gres;&grx;&grr;&grh;&grm;&graa;&grt;&grid;&gre;.

Note return to page 159 [a] [(a) would be eternaling. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. would be eternal in.]

Note return to page 160 [1] 1 &lblank; and it is great To do that thing, that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the Dung: The beggar's nurse, and Cæsar's.] The action of Suicide is here said, to shackle accidents; to bolt up change; to be the beggar's nurse, and Cæsar's. So far the description is intelligible. But when it is said, that it sleeps and never palates more the Dung, we find neither sense nor propriety: which is occasion'd by the loss of a whole line between the third and fourth, and the corrupt reading of the last word in the fourth. We should read the passage thus, &lblank; and it is great To do that thing, that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; [Lulls wearied nature to a sound repose] (Which sleeps, and never palates more the Dugg:) The beggar's nurse, and Cæsar's. That this line in hooks was the substance of that lost, is evident from its making sense of all the rest: which are to this effect, It is great to do that which frees us from all the accidents of humanity, lulls our over-wearied nature to repose (which now sleeps, and has no more appetite for worldly enjoyments,) and is equally the nurse of Cæsar and the beggar.

Note return to page 161 [2] 2 &lblank; that will pray in aid for kindness,] Praying in aid is a law term, used for a petition made in a court of justice for the calling in of help from another that hath an interest in the cause in question. Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 162 [3] 3 &lblank; and I send him The Greatness he has got. &lblank;] i. e. I have nothing to send him, alluding to the presents sent by vassals to their lords.

Note return to page 163 [4] 4 &lblank; who are in this Reliev'd, but not betray'd.] As plausible as this reading is, it is corrupt. Had Shakespear used the word reliev'd, he would have added, and not betray'd. But that he used another word the reply shews, What, of death too: which will not agree with relieved; but will direct us to the genuine word, which is, Bereav'd, but not betray'd. i. e. bereav'd of death, or of the means of destroying your self, but not betray'd to your destruction. By the particle too, in her reply, she alludes to her being before bereav'd of Antony. And thus his speech becomes correct, and her reply pertinent.

Note return to page 164 [5] 5 If idle talk will once be necessary,] This nonsense should be reform'd thus, If idle time will once be necessary. i. e. if repose be necessary to cherish life, I will not sleep.

Note return to page 165 [6] 6 A round O restored by Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 166 [a] [(a) Autumn. Mr. Theobald.—Vulg. Antony.]

Note return to page 167 [7] 7 &lblank; yet t'imagine An Antony were Nature's piece 'gainst Fancy, Condemning shadows quite.] This is a fine sentiment; but by the false reading and pointing become unintelligible. Though when set right, obscure enough to deserve a comment. Shakespear wrote, &lblank; yet t'imagine An Antony, were Nature's prize 'gainst Fancy, Condemning shadows quite. The sense of which is this, Nature, in general, has not materials enough to furnish out real forms, for every model that the boundless power of the imagination can sketch out: [Nature wants matter to vye strange forms with Fancy] But tho' this be true in general, that nature is more poor, narrow, and confined than fancy, yet it must be owned, that when nature presents an Antony to us, she then gets the better of fancy, and makes even the imagination appear poor and narrow: Or, in our author's phrase, [condemns shadows quite.] The word prize, which I have restored, is very pretty, as figuring a contention between nature and imagination about the larger extent of their powers; and nature gaining the prize by producing Antony.

Note return to page 168 [8] 8 I cannot project mine own cause so well] Project signifies to invent a cause, not to plead it; which is the sense here required. It is plain then we should read, I cannot procter my own cause so well. The technical term, to plead by an advocate.

Note return to page 169 [9] 9 Through th' ashes of my chance:] Or fortune. Alluding to an imperial edifice burnt down and reduced to ashes. So that the meaning is, Begone, or I shall exert that royal spirit which I had in my prosperity, in spite of the imbecillity of my present weak condition. This taught the Oxford Editor to alter it to mischance.

Note return to page 170 [1] 1 Be't known, that we the Greatest are misthought For things that others do; and when we fall, We answer others' merits, in our names Are therefore to be pitied.] This false pointing has rendered the sentiment, which was not very easy at best, altogether unintelligible. The lines should be pointed thus, Be't known, that we, the Greatest, are misthought For things that others do. And when we fall We answer. Others' merits, in our names Are therefore to be pitied. i. e. We monarchs, while in power, are accused and blamed for the miscarriages of our ministers; and when any misfortune hath subjected us to the power of our enemies, we are sure to be punished for those faults. As this is the case, it is but reasonable that we should have the merit of our ministers' good actions, as well as bear the blame of their bad. But she softens the word merit into pity. The reason of her making the reflexion was this: Her former conduct was liable to much censure from Octavius, which she would hereby artfully insinuate was owing to her evil ministers. And as her present conduct, in concealing her treasures, appeared to be her own act, she being detected by her minister; she begs, that as she now answers for her former minister's miscarriages, so her present minister's merit in this discovery, might likewise be placed to her account: Which she thinks but reasonable. The Oxford Editor is here again at his old work of altering what he did not understand, and so transforms the passage thus, &lblank; And when we fall, We pander others' merits with our names; And therefore to be pitied.

Note return to page 171 [2] 2 &lblank; now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.] Alluding to the Egyptian devotion paid to the moon under the name of Isis.

Note return to page 172 [3] 3 &lblank; But he, that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do.] Shakespear's Clowns are always jokers, and deal in sly satire. It is plain this must be read the contrary way, and all and half change places.

Note return to page 173 [4] 4 &lblank; this knot intrinsicate] The expression is fine; it signifies a hidden, secret [intrinsecus] knot, as that which ties soul and body together.

Note return to page 174 [1] 1 You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens than our Courtiers; But seem, as does the King's.] The thought is this, we are not now (as we were wont) influenced by the weather but by the King's looks. We no more obey the heavens [the sky] than our Courtiers obey the heavens [God] By which it appears, that the reading—our bloods is wrong. For tho' the blood may be affected with the weather, yet that affection is discovered not by change of colour, but by change of countenance. And it is the outward not the inward change that is here talked of, as appears from the word seem. We should read therefore, &lblank; our brows No more obey the heavens &c. Which is evident from the preceding words, You do not meet a man but frowns. And from the following, &lblank; But not a Courtier, Altho' they wear their faces to the bent Of the King's look, but hath a heart that is Glad at the thing they scoul at &lblank; The Oxford Editor improves upon this emendation, and reads, &lblank; our looks No more obey the heart ev'n than our courtiers; But by venturing too far, at a second emendation, he has stript it of all thought and sentiment.

Note return to page 175 [2] 2 You speak him far.] i. e. largely in his praise. Shakespear with his common licence, only uses the length for the breadth.

Note return to page 176 [3] 3 I do extend him, Sir, within himself; Crush him together, &lblank;] Thus the late Editor, Mr. Theobald, has given the passage, and explained it in this manner; I extend him within the lists and compass of his merit: Which is just as proper as to say, I go out within doors. To extend a thing within itself is the most insufferable nonsense: because the very etymology of the word shews, that it signifies the drawing out any thing beyond its lists and compass. Besides, a common attention was sufficient to perceive that Shakespear, in this sentence, used extend and crush together, as the direct opposites to one another; which, in this Editor's sense, they are not; but only different degrees of the same thing. We should read and point the passage thus, I don't extend him, Sir: within himself Crush him together &lblank; i. e. I do not extend him; on the contrary I crush him together.

Note return to page 177 [4] 4 O disloyal thing, Thou should'st repair my youth, thou heap'st A Year's age on me.] The King lov'd his daughter, and was much vex'd and disappointed at her having married against his consent. But, surely, his sorrow was not very extreme, if the effects of it only added one year to his age; we must correct, A yare age on me. i. e. a sudden, precipitate, old age. For the word signifies not only nimble, dextrous, as it is many times employ'd in our author; but likewise, as Skinner expounds it, fervidus, promptus, præceps, impatiens. But the Oxford Editor amends it thus, &lblank; Thou heapest many A year's age on me.

Note return to page 178 [5] 5 &lblank; a touch more rare] More strong, forcible; alluding to the stroke of lightening.

Note return to page 179 [6] 6 She's a good sign.] If sign be the true reading, the poet means by it constellation, and by reflection is meant influence. But I rather think, from the answer, that he wrote shine. So in his Venus and Adonis, As if, from thence, they borrowed all their shine.

Note return to page 180 [7] 7 &lblank; 'twere a paper lost As offer'd mercy is &lblank;] i. e. Should one of his letters miscarry, the loss would be as great as the offer'd mercy of heaven neglected or rejected. But the Oxford Editor amends it thus, &lblank; 'twere a paper lost, With offer'd mercy in it.

Note return to page 181 [8] 8 &lblank; for so long As he could make me with his eye, or ear, Distinguish him from others, &lblank;] But how could Posthumus make himself distinguish'd by his ear to Pisanio? By his tongue he might, to the other's ear: and this was certainly Shakespear's intention. We must therefore read, As he could make me with this eye, or ear, Distinguish him from others. The expression is &grd;&gre;&gri;&grk;&grt;&gri;&grk;&grwc;&grst;, as the Greeks term it: the party speaking points to the part spoken of.

Note return to page 182 [9] 9 &lblank; 'till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;] But the increase of distance is the augmentation, not the diminution of space between the object and the beholder: which augmentation occasions the diminution of the object. We should read therefore, &lblank; 'till the diminution Of's space &lblank; i. e. of his space, or of that space which his body occupied; and this is the diminution of the object by the augmentation of space.

Note return to page 183 [1] 1 &lblank; or ere I could Give him the parting kiss, which I had set Between two charming words. &lblank;] There is an inexpressible prettiness in the whole of this idea. The image is taken from a gem set between two others of a different kind. But what were these two charming words, between which the kiss was set? This may be thought too nice an inquiry. If we consider Shakespear as having only the vague idea of two fond words in general, the douceurs, with which lovers are used to entertain one another, the whole force and beauty of the passage will be lost. Without question by these two charming words she would be understood to mean, Adieu, Posthumus. The one Religion made so; and the other, Love.

Note return to page 184 [2] 2 &lblank; comes in my Father; And, like the tyrannous breathing of the North, Shakes all our buds from growing.] Had Imogen employed this image of the North wind shaking the tender buds, to express her father's rage at the discovery of the marriage, it had been proper to have said, Shakes all our buds from growing; because by banishing Posthumus, he quite cut off the fruits of their loves and alliance, which were things of duration; and in this case the buds of fruit-trees had been meant. But that was a thing passed, the discovery had been made, and his banishment denounced. She is here telling, how her father came in while Posthumus was taking his last farewel of her; and while they were going to interchange some tender words to one another, which was a pleasure, had it not been interrupted, but of a short and momentary duration. In this case then it is plain, that not buds of fruit-trees, but buds of flowers are alluded to: and if so, the present reading, which refers to buds of fruit-trees, is corrupt, and we must conclude that Shakespear wrote, Shakes all our buds from blowing. i. e. from opening, as full-blown flowers do. And I suppose that his using the word blowing here, was the reason why in the foregoing line he says, breathing of the North, instead of blowing of the North; (tho' breathing be not very proper to express the rage and bluster of the North wind) the repetition of which word, as it had then been used in two different senses, would have had an ill effect.

Note return to page 185 [3] 3 If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours out-lusters many I have beheld, I could not believe she excelled many] What? if she did really excel others, could he not believe she did excel them? Nonsense. We must strike out the negative, and the sense will be this, I can easily believe your mistress excels many, tho' she be not the most excellent; just as I see that diamond of yours is of more value than many I have beheld, tho' I know there are other diamonds of much greater value.

Note return to page 186 [4] 4 to convince the honour of my mistress;] Convince, for overcome.

Note return to page 187 [5] 5 &lblank; my ring I hold dear as my finger, 'tis part of it. Iach. You are a Friend, and therein the wiser;] I correct it, You are afraid, and therein the wiser. What Iachimo says, in the close of his speech, determines this to have been our Poet's reading. But, I see, you have some Religion in you, that you fear.

Note return to page 188 [6] 6 Iach. &lblank; If I bring you not sufficient testimony that I have enjoy'd the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond too; if I come off, and leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours, &c. Post. I embrace these conditions, &c.] This was a wager between the two speakers. Iachimo declares the conditions of it; and Posthumus embraces them: as well he might; for Iachimo mentions only that of the two conditions, which was favourable to Posthumus, namely, that if his wife preserved her honour he should win: concerning the other, (in case she preserved it not) Iachimo, the accurate expounder of the wager, is silent. To make him talk more in character, for we find him sharp enough in the prosecution of his bet, we should strike out the negative, and read the rest thus, If I bring you sufficient testimony that I have enjoy'd, &c. my ten thousand ducats are mine; so is your diamond too. If I come off, and leave her in such honour, &c. she your jewel, &c. and my gold are yours.

Note return to page 189 [8] 8 &lblank; and those repeated Vexations of it &lblank;] Meaning the Queen and her son: these are set, in comparison, with her husband, and make the sentiment extremely fine.

Note return to page 190 [9] 9 &lblank; but most miserable Is the desire, that's glorious.] Her husband, she says, proves her supreme grief. She had been happy had she been stoln as her brothers were, but now she is miserable, as all those are who have a sense of worth and honour superior to the vulgar, which occasions them infinite vexations from the envious and worthless part of mankind. Had she not so refined a taste as to be content only with the superior merit of Posthumus, but could have taken up with Cloten, she might have escaped these persecutions. This elegance of taste, which always discovers an excellence and chuses it, she calls with great sublimity of expression, The desire that's glorious; which the Oxford Editor not understanding alters to, The degree that's glorious.

Note return to page 191 [1] 1 &lblank; Bless'd be those How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. &lblank;] The last words are equivocal: but the meaning is this, Who are beholden only to the seasons for their support and nourishment; so that, if those be kindly, such have no more to care for or desire.

Note return to page 192 [2] 2 &lblank; and the rich crop Of sea and land &lblank;] He is here speaking of the covering of sea and land, Shakespear therefore wrote, &lblank; And the rich cope

Note return to page 193 [3] 3 Upon th' unnumber'd beach? &lblank;] Sense and the antithesis oblige us to read this nonsense thus, Upon the humbl'd beach. i. e. because daily insulted with the flow of the tide.

Note return to page 194 [4] 4 Should make desire vomit emptiness, Not so allur'd to feed.] i. e. that appetite, which is not allured to feed on such excellence, can have no stomach at all; but, tho' empty, must nauseate every thing.

Note return to page 195 [5] 5 He's strange and peevish.] i. e. ignorant of foreign manners, and impatient of contradiction. This, I think, was a good reason for his master to order him to stay within doors. But the Oxford Editor, with great acumen, alters it to, He's strange and sheepish.

Note return to page 196 for them read then.

Note return to page 197 [a] [(a) of the divorce Hell-made. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. of the divorce he'ld make.]

Note return to page 198 [1] 1 &lblank; white and azure, lac'd With blue of heav'n's own tinct.] We should read, &lblank; white with azure lac'd, The blue of heav'n's own tinct. i. e. the white skin laced with blue veins.

Note return to page 199 [2] 2 &lblank; that dawning May bear the raven's eye: &lblank;] Some copies read bare or make bare; others, ope. But the true reading is bear, a term taken from heraldry, and very sublimely applied. The meaning is, that morning may assume the colour of the raven's eye, which is grey. Hence it is so commonly called the grey-ey'd morning. And Romeo and Juliet, I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye. Had Shakespear meant to bare or open the eye, that is, to awake, he had instanced rather in the lark than raven, as the earlier riser. Besides, whether the morning bared or opened the raven's eye was of no advantage to the speaker, but it was of much advantage that it should bear it, that is, become light. Yet the Oxford Editor judiciously alters it to, May bare its raven-eye.

Note return to page 200 [3] 3 His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lyes:] i. e. the morning sun dries up the dew which lies in the cups of flowers.

Note return to page 201 [a] [(a) that pretty bin. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. that pretty is.]

Note return to page 202 [4] 4 &lblank; his goodness fore-spent on us,] i. e. the good offices done by him to us heretofore.

Note return to page 203 [5] 5 Is she be up, &c.] It is observable, that Shakespear makes his fools deal much in that kind of wit called the double entendrè with only a single meaning; since his time transferred to the fine Gentleman of the drama.

Note return to page 204 [6] 6 &lblank; one of your great knowing Should learn (being taught) forbearance.] But sure, whoever is taught, necessarily learns. Learning is not the fit and reasonable consequence of being taught, but is the thing itself. As it is superfluous in the expression, so (which is the common condition of nonsense) it is deficient in the sentiment. It is no mark of a knowing person that he has learnt forbearance simply. For forbearance becomes a virtue, or point of civil prudence, only as it respects a forbidden object. Shakespear, I am persuaded, wrote, &lblank; one of your great knowing Should learn (being tort) forbearance. i. e. one of your wisdom should learn (from a sense of your pursuing a forbidden object) forbearance: which gives us a good and pertinent meaning in a correct expression. Tort, an old French word, signifying the being in the wrong, is much in use amongst our old English writers, which those who have not read them, may collect from its being found in the Etymologicon of the judicious Skinner.

Note return to page 205 [7] 7 To leave you in your Madness, 'twere my Sin; I will not. Imo. Fools are not mad folks. Clot. Do you call me fool? Imo. As I am mad, I do.] But does she really call him fool? The acutest critic would be puzzled to find it out, as the text stands. The reasoning is perplex'd by a slight corruption; and we most restore it thus, Fools cure not mad folks. You are mad, says he, and it would be a crime in me to leave you to yourself. Nay, says she, why should you stay? A fool never cur'd madness. Do you call me fool? replies he, &c. All this is easy and natural. And that cure was certainly the poets' word, I think, is very evident from what Imogen immediately subjoins. If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad; That cures us both. i. e. if you'll cease to torture me with your foolish solicitations, I'll cease to shew towards you any thing like madness: so a double cure will be effected, of your folly, and my suppos'd frenzy.

Note return to page 206 [8] 8 &lblank; in self-figur'd knot;] This is nonsense. We should read, Self-finger'd knot. i. e. a knot solely of their own tying, without any regard to parents, or other more public considerations.

Note return to page 207 [9] 9 &lblank; a jewel, that too casually Hath left my arm &lblank;] i. e. too many chances of losing it have arisen from my carelesness.

Note return to page 208 [1] 1 &lblank; 'Shrew me, If, &c.] i. e. may I fall under an evil tongue, if, &c.

Note return to page 209 [2] 2 I hope, it be not gone, to tell my lord That I kiss aught but him.] This is fine. It was gone on that errand. And we are to consider this passage as alluding to those ominous speeches concerning which the ancients were so superstitious. See another instance of this kind in the foregoing play, Act I. Scene II.

Note return to page 210 [3] 3 To their approvers. &lblank;] i. e. to those who try them.

Note return to page 211 [4] 4 And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for The press of boats, or pride, &lblank;] This is an agreeable ridicule on poetical exaggeration, which gives human passions to inanimate things: and particularly, upon what he himself writes in the foregoing play on this very subject, &lblank; And made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. But the satire is not only agreeably turned, but very artfully employed; as it is a plain indication, that the speaker is secretly mocking the credulity of his hearer, while he is endeavouring to persuade him of his wife's falshood. The very same kind of satire we have again, on much the same occasion, in The two Gentleman of Verona, where the false Proteus says to his friend, of his friend's mistress, &lblank; and she hath offer'd to the doom, Which unrevers'd stands in effectual force, A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears. A certain gaiety of heart, which the speaker strives to conceal breaking out under a satire, by which he would insinuate to his friend the trifling worth of woman's tears.

Note return to page 212 [5] 5 Was as another nature, dumb; &lblank;] This nonsense should without question be read and pointed thus, Has as another nature done; out-went her, Motion and breath left out. i. e. has worked as exquisitely, nay has exceeded her if you will put motion and breath out of the question.

Note return to page 213 [6] 6 &lblank; I'm sure She could not lose it; her attendants are All honourable; they induc'd to steal it! And, by a stranger!—no, &lblank;] The absurd conclusions of jealousy are here admirably painted and exposed. Posthumus, on the credit of a bracelet, and an oath of the party concerned, judges against all appearances from the intimate knowledge of his wife's honour, that she was false to his bed; and grounds that judgment, at last, upon much less appearances of the honour of her attendants. Now common sense, from his belief of the honour of his wife's attendants, should either have made him conclude in favour of hers; or if he rejected the much stronger appearances of honour in her, he should, at the same time, have rejected those much weaker in her attendants. But Shakespear knew at what distance reason and love are wont to be, and has, therefore, made them keep their distance here.

Note return to page 214 [a] [(a) With rocks unskaleable, &lblank; Oxford Editor.—Vulg. with saks unskaleable.]

Note return to page 215 [1] 1 Poor ignorant baubles] Ignorant, for of no use.

Note return to page 216 [2] 2 keep at utterance.] i. e. at extreme distance.

Note return to page 217 [3] 3 Oh, learn'd, indeed, were that astrologer &c.] This was a very natural thought. She must needs be supposed, in her circumstances, to be extremely solicitous about the future; and desirous of coming to it by the assistance of that superstition.

Note return to page 218 [4] 4 That run i'th' clock's behalf. &lblank;] This fantastical expression means no more than sand in an hour-glass, used to measure time.

Note return to page 219 [5] 5 I see before me, man: nor here nor there, Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them, That I cannot look thro'. &lblank;] Shakespear says she can see before her, yet on which side soever she looks, there is a fog which she cannot see thro'. This nonsense is occasioned by the corrupt reading of, but have a fog, for, that have a fog; and then all is plain. I see before me, (says she) for there is no fog on any side of me which I cannot see thro'. Mr. Theobald objects to a fog in them, and asks for the substantive to which the relative plural [them] relates. The substantive is places, implied in the words here, there, and what ensues: for not to know that Shakespear perpetually takes these liberties of grammar, is knowing nothing of his author. So that there is no need for his strange stuff of a Fog in Ken.

Note return to page 220 [6] 6 A goodly day! not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours: &lblank;] The passage above was a liberty of grammar; but this is a liberty with grammar. The meaning is, it is not for such as us who live in a cottage, to keep within doors on so fine a day.

Note return to page 221 [7] 7 &lblank; To apprehend thus, Draws us a profit from all things we see:] The observing Nature in this view, gave birth to a very fine book of one of the wisest men of this age; which was unjustly ridiculed by one of the wittiest.

Note return to page 222 [8] 8 &lblank; than doing nothing for a bauble;] i. e. vain titles of honour gained by an idle attendance at Court. But the Oxford Editor reads, for a bribe.

Note return to page 223 [9] 9 &lblank; tho' trained up thus meanly, I'th' Cave, there on the brow, &lblank;] The old editions read, I'th' Cave whereon the bow; which tho' very corrupt, will direct us to the true reading, which when rightly pointed, is thus, &lblank; tho' trained up thus meanly. I'th' Cave wherein they bow &lblank; i. e. thus meanly brought up. Yet in this very Cave, which is so low that they must bow or bend in entering it, yet are their thoughts so exalted, &c. This is the antithesis. Belarius had spoken before of the lowness of this cave. A goodly day! not to keep house with such Whose roof's as low as ours: see, boys! this gate Instructs you how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you To morning's holy office.

Note return to page 224 [1] 1 Beyond the trick of others. &lblank;] Trick, for custom, habit.

Note return to page 225 for wilderness read wildness.

Note return to page 226 [2] 2 &lblank; Some Jay of Italy] There is a prettiness in this expression, Putta, in Italian, signifying both a Jay and a Whore. I suppose from the gay feathers of that bird.

Note return to page 227 [3] 3 Whose mother was her painting &lblank;] This puzzles Mr. Theobald much: he thinks it may signify whose mother was a bird of the same feather; or that it should be read, whose mother was her planting. What all this means I know not. In Mr. Row's edition the M in mother happening to be reversed at the press, it came out Wother. And what was very ridiculous, Gildon employed himself (properly enough indeed) in finding a meaning for it. In short, the true word is meether, a north country word, signifying beauty. So that the sense of, her meether was her painting, is, that she had only an appearance of beauty, for which she was beholden to her paint.

Note return to page 228 [4] 4 &lblank; So thou, Posthumus, Wilt lay the leven to all proper men;] When Posthumus thought his wife false, he unjustly scandalized the whole sex. His wife here, under the same impressions of his infidelity, attended with more provoking circumstances, acquits his sex, and lays the fault where it was due. The poet paints from nature. This is life and manners. The man thinks it a dishonour to the superiority of his understanding to be jilted, and therefore flatters his vanity into a conceit that the disgrace was inevitable from the general infidelity of the sex. The woman, on the contrary, not imagining her credit to be at all affected in the matter, never seeks out for so extravagant a consolation; but at once eases her malice and her grief, by laying the crime and damage at the door of some obnoxious coquet.

Note return to page 229 [5] 5 That cravens my weak hand:] i. e. makes me a coward. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 230 [6] 6 &lblank; Now, if you could wear a mind Dark as your fortune is, &lblank;] What had the darkness of her mind to do with the concealment of person, which is the only thing here advised? On the contrary, her mind was to continue unchanged, in order to support her change of fortune. Shakespear wrote, Now, if you could wear a mien. Or according to the French orthography, from whence I presume arose the corruption; Now, if you could wear a mine.

Note return to page 231 [7] 7 &lblank; and full of view; &lblank;] i. e. likely to prove successful.

Note return to page 232 [8] 8 &lblank; nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek; Exposing it, (but oh the harder Heart, Alack, no remedy) &lblank;] Who does this harder Heart relate to? Posthumus is not here talk'd of; besides, he knew nothing of her being thus expos'd to the inclemencies of weather: he had enjoin'd a course, which would have secur'd her from these incidental hardships. I think, common sense obliges us to read, But, oh, the harder Hap! i. e. the more cruel your fortune, that you must be oblig'd to such shifts.

Note return to page 233 [a] [(a) so. Mr. Theobald—Vulg. know.]

Note return to page 234 [9] 9 &lblank; Your means abroad You have me, rich; &lblank;] i. e. you may depend upon my supplying you to the utmost of my power.

Note return to page 235 [1] 1 &lblank; This attempt I'm soldier to, &lblank;] i. e. I have inlisted and bound my self to it.

Note return to page 236 [2] 2 And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady Ladies woman; from each one The best she hath, &lblank;] The second line is intolerable nonsense. It should be read and pointed thus, Than lady Ladies; winning from each one &lblank; The sense of the whole is this, I love her because she has, in a more exquisite degree, all those courtly parts that enoble [lady] women of quality [ladies,] winning from each of them the best of their good qualities, &c. Lady is a plural verb, and Ladies a noun governed of it; a quaint expression in Shakespear's way, and suiting the folly of the character.

Note return to page 237 [2] 2 Thou bidd'st me to my loss: &lblank;] A phrase taken from traffic, by which the seller would signify, that the buyer offers less than the thing upon sale cost.

Note return to page 238 [3] 3 If any thing that's civil, &lblank;] civil, for human creature. If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage, Take or lend. &lblank;] She is in doubt, whether this cave be the habitation of a man or beast. If it be the former, she bids him speak; if the latter, that is, the den of a savage beast, what then? Take or lend—We should read, Take 'or't end. &lblank; i. e. take my life ere famine end it. Or was commonly used for ere; this agrees to all that went before. But the Oxford Editor cuts the knot; Take, or yield food says he. As if it was possible so plain a sentence should ever have been blundered into Take or lend.

Note return to page 239 [a] [(a) &lblank; then had my price &lblank; more equal ballancing. Oxford Editor—Vulg. then had my prize &lblank; more equal ballasting.]

Note return to page 240 [4] 4 &lblank; defering] Spelt right by Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 241 [5] 5 &lblank; And to you, the tribunes For this immediate levy, he commands His absolute commission. &lblank;] Commands his commission is such a phrase as Shakespear would hardly have us'd. I have ventur'd to substitute; &lblank; he commends His absolute commission. &lblank; i. e. he recommends the care of making this levy to you; and gives you an absolute commission for so doing.

Note return to page 242 [a] [(a) ill perseverant, Oxford Editor—Vulg. imperseverant.]

Note return to page 243 [1] 1 before thy face,] Posthumus was to have his head struck off, and then his garments cut to pieces before his face; we should read,—her face. i. e. Imogen's, done to despite her, who had said, she esteem'd Posthumus's garment above the person of Cloten.

Note return to page 244 [2] 2 Mingle their spurs together.] Spurs, an old word for the fibres of a tree. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 245 [a] [(a) Is oft the cure of fear. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. Is oft the cause of fear.]

Note return to page 246 [3] 3 &lblank; Though his honour Was nothing but mutation, &lblank;] Mr. Theobald, as usual, not understanding this, turns honour to humour. But the text is right, and means that the only notion he had of honour, was the fashion, which was perpetually changing. A fine stroke of satire, well expressed: yet the Oxford Editor follows Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 247 [4] 4 That's all I reck.] i. e. care. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 248 [5] 5 I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood,] This nonsense should be corrected thus, I'd let a marish of such Clotens blood. i. e. a marsh or lake. So Smith, in his account of Virginia, Yea Venice, at this time the admiration of the earth, was at first but a marish, inhabited by poor fishermen. In the first book of Maccabees, chap. ix. ver. 42. the Translators use the word in the same sense.

Note return to page 249 [6] 6 That an invisible instinct &lblank;] But where is the wonder that an invisible instinct should do this, any more than an invisible reason? It appears then that the poet uses invisible for blind. And by blind instinct he means a kind of plastic nature, acting as an instrument under the Creator, without intention, and then there is cause of wonder, that blind instinct should do as much as sharp-sighted reason. One not well acquainted with Shakespear's manner, in the licentiousness of his language and the profoundness of his sense, would be apt to think he wrote invincible, i. e. that bore down all before it. But the poet here transfers the term belonging to the object upon the subject: unless we will rather suppose it was his intention to give invisible (which has a passive) an active signification; and then it will mean the same as not seeing.

Note return to page 250 [7] 7 &lblank; oh, melancholy! Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find The ooze, to shew what coast thy sluggish care Might eas'liest harbour in? &lblank;] But as plausible as this at first sight may seem, all those, who know any thing of good writing, will agree, that our author must have wrote, &lblank; to shew what coast thy sluggish carrack Might eas'liest harbour in? Carrack is a slow, heavy built vessel of burden. This restores the uniformity of the metaphor, compleats the sense, and is a word of great propriety and beauty to design a melancholic person.

Note return to page 251 [8] 8 &lblank; The Raddock would, With charitable bill, bring thee all this; Yea, and furr'd moss besides. When flow'rs are none, To winter-ground thy course &lblank;] Here again, the metaphor is strangely mangled. What Sense is there in winter-grounding a coarse with moss? A coarse might indeed be said to be winter-grounded in good thick clay. But the epithet furr'd to moss directs us plainly to another reading, To winter-gown thy coarse. i. e. the summer habit shall be a light gown of flowers, thy winter habit a good warm furr'd gown of moss.

Note return to page 252 [a] [(a) He has paid for that. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. Was paid for that.]

Note return to page 253 [9] 9 Fear no more, &c.] This is the topic of consolation that nature dictates to all men on these occasions. The same farewel we have over the dead body in Lucian. &grT;&gre;&grk;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gra;&grq;&grl;&gri;&gro;&grn; &gro;&gru;&grk;&gre;&grt;&gri; &grd;&gri;&gry;&grh;&grs;&gre;&gri;&grst;, &gro;&gru;&grk;&gre;&grt;&gri; &grp;&gre;&gri;&grn;&grh;&grs;&gre;&gri;&grst;, &c.

Note return to page 254 [9] 9 Last night, the very Gods shew'd me a vision.] The very Gods may, indeed, signify the Gods themselves immediately, and not by the intervention of other agents or instruments; yet I am persuaded the reading is corrupt, and that Shakespear wrote, Last night the warey Gods &lblank; Warey here signifying, animadverting, forewarning, ready to give notice; not, as in its more usual meaning, cautious, reserved.

Note return to page 255 [1] 1 &lblank; who was he, That, otherwise than noble Nature did, Hath alter'd that good picture? &lblank;] The Editor, Mr. Theobald, cavils at this passage. He says, it is far from being strictly grammatical; and yet, what is strange, he subjoins a paraphrase of his own, which shews it to be strictly grammatical. For, says he, the construction of these words is this who hath alter'd that good picture otherwise than nature alter'd it. I suppose then this Editor's meaning was, that the grammatical construction would not conform to the sense; (for a bad writer, like a bad man, generally says one thing and means another.) He subjoining, Shakespear designed to say, If the text be genuine, who hath alter'd that good picture from what noble nature at first made it. Here again he is mistaken; Shakespear meant, like a plain man, just as he spoke; and as our Editor first paraphrased him, who hath alter'd that good picture otherwise than nature alter'd it? And the solution of the difficulty in this sentiment, which so much perplexed him, is this: The speaker sees a young man without a head, and consequently much shorten'd in stature; on which he breaks out into this exclamation, who hath alter'd this good form by making it shorter; so contrary to the practice of nature which by yearly accession of growth alters it by making it taller. No occasion then for the Editor to change did into bid with an allusion to the command against murder; which then should have been forbid instead of bid.

Note return to page 256 for door read poor.

Note return to page 257 [a] [(a) I've had no letter.—Oxford Editor—Vulg. I heard no letter &lblank;]

Note return to page 258 [2] 2 &lblank; to a Render] a render, for a confession.

Note return to page 259 [3] 3 &lblank; have both their eyes And ears so cloy'd importantly as now.] There is no doubt, but our islanders would be thoroughly cloy'd of the sight and noise of a terrible and powerful invader. But this would not hinder their turning their attention on another object. Now the speaker is maintaining, that their attention to the invasion would keep them from inquiring after him. Besides what it is, to be importantly cloy'd, I have not the least conception of. Shakespear without doubt wrote, &lblank; so 'ploy'd importantly as now. i. e. imployed or taken up with things of such importance.

Note return to page 260 for dread read dreaded.

Note return to page 261 [1] 1 &lblank; for preservation cas'd, or shame,] Shame, for modesty.

Note return to page 262 [2] 2 &lblank; that some, turn'd coward] Some, for that part which.

Note return to page 263 [3] 3 A rout, confusion thick. &lblank;] This is read as if it was a thick confusion, and only another term for rout: whereas confusion-thick should be read thus with an hyphen, and is a very beautiful compound epithet to rout. But Shakespear's fine diction is not a little obscured throughout by thus disfiguring his compound adjectives.

Note return to page 264 [4] 4 &lblank; I, in mine own woe charm'd,] Alluding to the common superstition of Charms being powerful enough to keep men unhurt in battle. It was derived from our Saxon ancestors, and so is common to us with the Germans, who are above all other people given to this superstition, which made Erasmus, where, in his Moriæ Encomium, he gives to each nation its proper characteristic, say, Germani corporum proceritate & magiæ cognitione sibi placent: and Prior, in his Alma, North Britons hence have second sight: And Germans free from gun-shot fight.

Note return to page 265 [5] 5 &lblank; to satisfie, If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take No stricter Render of me, than my all.] What we can discover from the nonsense of these lines is, that the speaker, in a fit of penitency, compares his circumstances with a debtor's, who is willing to surrender up all to appease his creditor. This being the sense in general, I may venture to say, the true reading must have been this, &lblank; to satisfie, I d'off my freedom; 'tis the main part; take No stricter Render of me than my all. The verb d'off is too frequently used by our author to need any instances; and is here employ'd with peculiar elegance, i. e. To give all the satisfaction, I am able to your offended Godheads, I voluntarily divest my self of my freedom: 'tis the only thing I have to atone with, &lblank; take No stricter Render of me, than my all.

Note return to page 266 [6] 6 No stricter Render &lblank;] Render, for mulct.

Note return to page 267 [7] 7 Solemn musick: &c.] Here follow a vision, a masque, and a prophesy, which interrupt the fable without the least necessity, and unmeasurably lengthen this act. I think it plainly foisted in afterwards for meer show, and apparently not of Shakespear. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 268 [8] 8 'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff, as madmen Tongue, and brain not—do either both, or nothing— Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such As sense cannot untie. &lblank;] The obscurity of this passage arises from part of it being spoke of the prophesy, and part to it. This writing on the Tablet (says he) is still a dream, or else the raving of madness. Do thou, O Tablet, either both, or nothing; either let thy words and sense go together, or be thy bosom a rasa tabula. As the words now stand they are nonsense, or at least involve in them a sense which I cannot divelope.

Note return to page 269 [9] 9 I never saw Such noble fury in so poor a thing; Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought But begg'ry and poor Looks.] But how can it be said, that one, whose poor Looks promise beggary, promised poor Looks too? it was not the poor look which was promised: that was visible. We must read, But begg'ry and poor Luck. This sets the matter right, and makes Belarius speak sense and to the purpose. For there was the extraordinary thing; he promis'd nothing but poor Luck, and yet perform'd all these wonders.

Note return to page 270 [1] 1 One sand another Not more resembles that sweet rosie lad.] A slight corruption has made nonsense of this passage. One grain might resemble another, but none a human form. We should read, Not more resembles, than he th' sweet rosie lad.

Note return to page 271 [2] 2 For feature laming] Feature, for proportion of parts, which Mr. Theobald not understanding, would alter to stature. &lblank; for feature, laming The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva, Postures beyond brief nature; &lblank;] i. e. The ancient statues of Venus and Minerva, which exceeded, in beauty of exact proportion, any living bodies, the work of brief nature, i. e. of hasty, unelaborate nature. He gives the same character of the beauty of the Antique in Antony and Cleopatra: O'er picturing that Venus where we see The fancy out-work nature. It appears, from a number of such passages as these, that our author was not ignorant of the fine arts. A passage in De Piles' Cours de peinture par principes will give great light to the beauty of the text.—Peu de sentimens out été partagez sur la beauté de l' antique. Les gens d'esprit qui aiment les beaux arts ont estimé dans tous les tems ces merveilleux ouvrages. Nous voyons dans les anciens Auteurs quantité de passages ou pour loüer les beautez vivantes on les comparoit aux statuës. Ne vous imaginez (dit Maxime de Tyr) de pouvoir jamais trouver une beauté naturalle, qui le dispute aux statuës. Ovid, ou il fait la description de Cyllare, le plus beau de Centaures , dit Qu'il avoit une si grande vivacité dans le visage, que le col, les épaules, les mains, & l'estomac en etoient si beaux qu' on pouvoit assurer qu'en tout ce qu'il avoit de l'homme c'etoit la meme beauté que l'on remarque dans les statuës les plus parfaites. Et Philostrate, parlant de la beauté de Neoptoleme, & de la ressemblance qu'il avoit avec son pere Achille, dit, Qu'en beauté son pere avoit autant d' avantage sur lui que les statuës en ont sur les beaux hommes. Les auteurs modernes ont suivi ces mêmes sentimens sur la beauté de l'Antique. Je reporterai seulement celui de Scaliger. Le Moyen, dit il, que nous puissions rien voir qui aproche de la perfection des belles statuës, puisqu' il est permis à l' art de choisir, de retrancher, d' adjoûter, de diriger, & qu' au contrarie, la nature s'est toujours alterée depuis la creation du premier homme en qui Dieu joignit la beauté de la forme à celle de l'innocence. This last quotation from Scaliger well explains what Shakespear meant by Brief Nature; i. e. inelaborate, hasty, and careless as to the elegance of form, in respect of art, which uses the peculiar address, above explained, to arrive at perfection.

Note return to page 272 [3] 3 Think, that you are upon a rock, and now Throw me again.] What occasioned these words, was her husband's striking her before he knew her, and saying, Shall's have a Play of this, Thou scornful Page, there lye thy part. So that 'tis plain the true reading is, Think, that you are upon a mock. i. e. a farce, a stage-play. Besides, the common reading in nonsense.

Note return to page 273 [4] 4 By tasting of our wrath? &lblank;] But how did Belarius undo or forfeit his merit by tasting or feeling the King's wrath? We should read, By hasting of our wrath? &lblank; i. e. by hastening, provoking; and as such a provocation is undutiful, the demerit, consequently, undoes or makes void his former worth, and all pretensions to reward.

Note return to page 274 [5] 5 To in-lay heav'n with stars.] The thought is in character, and finely expressed: It alludes to the custom of deifying heroic men, and converting them into stars.

Note return to page 275 [1] 1 Troilus and Cressida.] Before this play of Troilus and Cressida, printed in 1609, is a bookseller's preface, shewing that first impression to have been before the play had been acted, and that it was published without Shakespear's knowledge, from a copy that had fall'n into the bookseller's hands. Mr. Dryden thinks this one of the first of our author's plays: but on the contrary, it may be judged from the forementioned preface that it was one of his last; and the great number of observations both moral and politick, (with which this piece is crowded more than any other of his) seems to confirm my opinion. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 276 [1] 1 Stirre up the sons of Troy &lblank;] Vulg. Corrected, as in the text, by Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 277 [2] 2 &lblank; fonder than ignorance;] Fonder, for more childish.

Note return to page 278 [3] 3 &lblank; and spirit of sense Hard as the palm of ploughman. &lblank;] Read, and (spite of sense) in a parenthesis. The meaning is, tho' our senses contradict it never so much, yet the cignet's down is not only harsh, when compared to the softness of Cressid's hand, but hard as the hand of ploughman. Spite, I suppose, was first corrupted to sprite, and from thence arose spirit.

Note return to page 279 [4] 4 she has the 'mends in her own hands.] i. e. she may paint and mend her complexion.

Note return to page 280 [6] 6 &lblank; Hector, whose patience Is, as a Virtue, fix'd, &lblank;] Patience sure was a virtue, and therefore cannot, in propriety of expression, be said to be like one. We should read, Is as the Virtue fix'd. i. e. his patience is as fixed as the Goddess Patience itself. So we find Troilus a little before saying, Patience herself what Goddess ere she be, Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. It is remarkable that Dryden when he alter'd this play, and found this false reading, alter'd it with judgment to, &lblank; whose patience Is fix'd like that of Heav'n. which he would not have done had he seen the right reading here given, where his thought is so much better and nobler expressed.

Note return to page 281 [7] 7 Before the Sun rose, he was harnest light,] Does the poet mean (says Mr. Theobald) that Hector had put on light armour? mean! what else could he mean? He goes to fight on foot; and was not that the armour for his purpose. So Fairfax in Tasso's Jerusalem, The other Princes put on harness light As footmen use &lblank; Yet, as if this had been the highest absurdity, he goes on, Or does he mean that Hector was sprightly in his arms even before sunrise? or is a conundrum aim'd at, in Sun rose and harnest light? Was any thing like it? but to get out of this perplexity, he tells us that a very slight alteration makes all these constructions unnecessary, and so changes it to harness-dight. Yet indeed the very slightest alteration will at any time let the poet's sense thro' the critic's fingers: And the Oxford Editor very contentedly takes up with what is left behind, and reads harness-dight too, in order, as Mr. Theobald well expresses it, To make all construction unnecessary.

Note return to page 282 [8] 8 that his valour is crusht into folly, his folly sauced with discretion:] Valour crusht into folly is nonsense; but it is of the first editor's making; who seeing crouded go before, concluded that crusht (which is oft indeed the consequence) must needs follow. He did not observe that the poet here employs a Kitchen-metaphor, which would have led him to the true reading, His valour is crusted into folly, his folly sauced with discretion. Thus is Ajax dished up by the poet. The expression is humourous. His temper is represented as so hot that his valour becomes overbaked, and so is crusted or hardened into folly or temerity: yet the hardness of his folly is sauced or softened with discretion, and so made palatable.

Note return to page 283 [9] 9 Good morrow, Alexander;] This is added in all the editions very absurdly, Paris not being on the stage. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 284 [1] 1 &lblank; the rich shall have more.] To give one the nod, was a phrase signifying to give one a mark of folly. The reply turns upon this sense alluding to the expression give, and should be read thus, The mich shall have more. i. e. much. He that has much folly already shall then have more. This was a proverbial speech, implying that benefits fall upon the rich. The Oxford Editor alters it to, The rest shall have none.

Note return to page 285 [2] 2 At your own house, there he unarms him.] These necessary words added from the quarto edition. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 286 [3] 3 my heart's content] Content, for capacity.

Note return to page 287 [4] 4 &lblank; Nestor shall apply Thy latest words. &lblank;] What were these latest words? A common-place observation, illustrated by a particular image, that opposition and adversity were useful to try and distinguish between the valiant man and the coward, the wise man and the fool. The application of this was to the Greeks; who had remained long unsuccessful before Troy, but might make a good use of their misfortunes by learning patience and perseverance. Now Nestor promises that he will make this application; but we find nothing like it. He only repeats Agamemnon's general observation, and illustrates it by another image; from whence it appears, that Shakespear wrote, &lblank; Nestor shall supply Thy latest words. &lblank; And it must be owned, the poet never wrote any thing more in character. Nestor, a talkative old man, was glad to catch at this common place, as it would furnish him with much matter for prate. And, therefore, on pretence that Agamemnon had not been full enough upon it, he begs leave to supply the topic with some diversified flourishes of his own. And what could be more natural than for a wordy old man to call the repetition of the same thought, a supplial. We may observe further, that according to this reading the introductory apology, With due observance of thy goodly Seat, is very proper: it being a kind of insinuation, to the prejudice of Agamemnon's facundity, that Nestor was forced to supply his speech. Whereas had the true reading been apply, the apology had been impertinent: for in such a case we must have supposed, this was a preconcerted division of the argument between the two orators.

Note return to page 288 [5] 5 &lblank; The thing of courage,] It is said of the tiger, that in storms and high winds he rages and roars most furiously. Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 289 [6] 6 Returns to chiding fortune.] i. e. replies aversely to adverse fortune.

Note return to page 290 [7] 7 When that the General is not like the hive,] The image is taken from the government of bees. But what are we to understand by this line? either it has no meaning, or a meaning contrary to the drift of the speaker. For either it signifies, that the General and the hive are not of the same degree or species, when as the speaker's complaint is, that the hive acts so perversely as to destroy all difference of degree between them and the General: or it must signify, that the General has private ends and interests distinct from that of the hive; which defeats the very end of the speaker; whose purpose is to justify the General, and expose the disobedience of the hive. We should certainly then read, When that the General not likes the hive: i. e. when the soldiers like not, and refuse to pay due obedience to their General: This being the very case he would describe, and shew the mischiefs of.

Note return to page 291 [8] 8 The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre,] i. e. the centre of the earth; which, according to the Ptolemaic System then in vogue, is the centre of the Solar System.

Note return to page 292 [9] 9 &lblank; But when the Planets In evil mixture to disorder wander, &c.] By Planets Shakespear here means Comets, which by some were supposed to be excentrical planets. The evil effects here recapitulated were those which superstition gave to the appearance of Comets.

Note return to page 293 [1] 1 &lblank; Right and Wrong (Between whose endless jar Justice resides) Would lose their names, &lblank;] The Editor, Mr. Theobald, thinks that the second line is no bad comment upon what Horace has said on this subject; &lblank; sunt certi denique fines, Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum. But if it be a comment on the Latin poet, it is certainly the worst that ever was made. Horace says, with extreme good sense, that there are certain bounds beyond which, and short of which, justice or Right cannot exist. The meaning is, because if it be short of those bounds, wrong prevails; if it goes beyond, Justice tyrannises; according to the common proverb of Summum jus summa injuria. Shakespear says, that Justice resides between the endless jar of right and wrong. Here the two extremes, between which Justice resides, are right and wrong; in Horace the two extremes, between which Justice resides, are both wrong. A very pretty comment this truly, which puts the change upon us; and instead of explaining a good thought of Horace, gives us a nonsensical one of its own. For to say the truth, this is not only no comment on Horace, but no true reading of Shakespear. Justice is here represented as moderating between Right and Wrong, and acting the over-complaisant and ridiculous part of Don Adriano de Armado in Love's Labour's Lost, who is called, with inimitable humour, A man of Compliments, whom Right and Wrong Have chose as Umpire of their Mutiny. This is the exact office of Justice in the present reading: But we are not to think that Shakespear in a serious speech would dress her up in the garb of his fantastic Spaniard. We must rather conclude that he wrote, Between whose endless jar Justice presides; i. e. always determines the controversy in favour of Right; and thus Justice is properly characterised without the author's ever dreaming of commenting Horace.

Note return to page 294 [2] 2 Thy topless deputation &lblank;] I don't know what can be meant by topless, but the contrary to what the speaker would insinuate. I suspect the poet wrote stopless, i. e. unlimited; which was the case.

Note return to page 295 [3] 3 All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, Severals and generals of grace exact, Atchievements, plots &c.] The meaning is this, All our good qualities, severals and generals of grace: i. e. whether they be several and belong to particular men, as prudence to Ulysses, experience to Nestor, magnanimity to Agamemnon, valour to Ajax, &c. or whether they be general and belonging to the Greek nations in general, as valour, polished manners, &c. all these good qualities, together with our atchievements, plots, orders, &c. are all turned into ridicule by the buffoonery of Achilles and Patroclus. This is the sense: but what then is the meaning of grace exact? no other can be made of it, than that Achilles and Patroclus exactly mimic all our qualities and actions. But the speaker thought very differently of their buffoonery: the imitation, he says, being as unlike the original as Vulcan to his wife. The fault lies here; exact should be exacts; and belongs to the second division, namely the enumeration of the actions; and should be read thus; All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes Severals and generals of grace; exacts, Atchievements, plots, &c. i. e. exactments publick taxes, and contributions for carrying on the war.

Note return to page 296 [4] 3 &lblank; more than in confession,] Confession, for profession.

Note return to page 297 [5] 5 And in my vantbrace &lblank;] An armour for the arm, avant-bras. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 298 [6] 6 The purpose is perspicuous even as Substance, Whose grossness little characters sum up.] That is, the purpose is as plain as body or substance; and tho' I have collected this purpose from many minute particulars, as a gross body is made up of small insensible parts, yet the result is as clear and certain as a body thus made up is palpable and visible. This is the thought, tho' a little obscured in the conciseness of the expression.

Note return to page 299 [7] 7 Must tar the mastiffs on, &lblank;] Tarre, an old English word signifying to provoke or urge on. See King John, Act 4. Scene 1. &lblank; like a Dog Snatch at his Master that doth tar him on. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 300 [1] 1 Speak then, thou whinid'st leaven,] This is the reading of the old copies: It should be windyest, i. e. most windy; leaven being made by a great fermentation. This epithet agrees well with Thersites's character.

Note return to page 301 [2] 2 thou thing of no bowels,] Tho' this be sense, yet I believe it is not the poet's, who makes Thersites reflect altogether on Ajax his want of wit, not want of compassion. I should imagine, therefore the true reading was, Thou thing of no vowels. i. e. without sense; as a word without vowels is jargon and contains no idea. This is much in the phraseology given to Thersites.

Note return to page 302 [3] 3 ere their Grandsires] We should read, ere your grandsires.

Note return to page 303 [4] 4 And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, Or like a star disorb'd! &lblank;] These two lines are misplaced in all the folio editions. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 304 [5] 5 And the Will dotes, that is inclinable] Old Edition, not so well, has it, attributive. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 305 [6] 6 Without some image of th' affected merit.] We should read, &lblank; th' affected's merit, i. e. without some mark of merit in the thing affected.

Note return to page 306 [7] 7 What we have stoln that we do fear to keep! Base thieves, &lblank; Oxford Editor. Vulg. That we have stoln what we do fear to keep! But thieves.

Note return to page 307 [a] [(a) But on the cause.—Mr. Theobald Vulg. And on the cause &lblank;]

Note return to page 308 [8] 8 He sent our messengers. &lblank;] This nonsense should be read, He shent our messengers, &lblank; i. e. rebuked, rated.

Note return to page 309 [a] [(a) His pettish lunes. Oxford Editor—Vulg. pettish lines.]

Note return to page 310 [9] 9 In will-peculiar, and in self-admission.] Will peculiar should be read like self-admission with a hyphen. The meaning is, He does nothing but what his own will dictates, and approves of nothing but what his own fancy recommends.

Note return to page 311 [1] 1 &lblank; He's possest with greatness,] i. e. greatness has got possession of him, as the devil of a witch.

Note return to page 312 [2] 2 Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him supple, he's not yet through warm.] The latter part of this speech should be given to Nestor.

Note return to page 313 [a] [(a) love's visible soul. Oxford Editor—Vulg. love's invisible soul.]

Note return to page 314 [1] 1 &lblank; with my disposer Cressida.] I think disposer should, in these places, be read dispouser; she that would separate Helen from him.

Note return to page 315 [2] 2 &lblank; he stays you &lblank;] We should read, &lblank; he prays you &lblank;

Note return to page 316 [3] 3 And simpler than the infancy of truth.] This is fine: and means, Ere truth, to defend itself against deceit in the commerce of the world, had, out of necessity, learn'd worldly policy.

Note return to page 317 [4] 4 &lblank; Plantage to the Moon.] I formerly made a silly conjecture, that the true reading was, Planets to their Moons. But I did not reflect that it was wrote before Galileo had discovered the Satellites of Jupiter; this play being printed in 1609, and that discovery made in 1710 [Subnote: for 1710 read 1610.] . So that Plantage to the Moon is right, and alludes to the common opinion of the influence the Moon has over what is planted or sown, which was therefore done in the increase. Rite Latonæ puerum canentes, Rite crescentem face noctilucam, Prosperam frugum &lblank; Hor. L. 4. Od. 6.

Note return to page 318 [5] 5 As truth's authentic author to be cited] This line is absolute nonsense. We should read, As truth authentic, ever to be cited. i. e. when all comparisons of truth are exhausted, they shall be then all summed up in this great one, this authentic truth ever to be cited, as true as Troilus.

Note return to page 319 [a] [(a) let all inconstant men. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. let all constant men.]

Note return to page 320 [6] 6 &lblank; appear it to you, That, through the sight I bear in things to come, I have abandon'd Troy. &lblank;] This reasoning perplexes Mr. Theobald, he foresaw his country was undone; he ran over to the Greeks; and this he makes a merit of, says the Editor. I own (continues he) the motives of his oratory seem to me somewhat perverse and unartful. Nor do I know how to reconcile it, unless our poet purposely intended to make Chalcas act the part of a true priest, and so from motives of self-interest insinuate the merit of service. The Editor did not know how to reconcile this. Nor I neither. For I don't know what he means by the motives of his oratory, or, from motives of self-interest to insinuate merit. But if he would insinuate, that it was the poet's design to make his priest self interested, and to represent to the Greeks that what he did for his own preservation was done for their service, he is mistaken. Shakespear thought of nothing so silly, as it would be to draw his priest a knave, in order to make him talk like a fool. Tho' that be the fate which generally attends their abusers. But Shakespear was no such; and consequently wanted not this cover for dulness. The perverseness is all the Editor's own, who interprets, &lblank; through the sight I have in things to come I have abandoned Troy &lblank; To signify, by my power of prescience finding my country must be ruined, I have therefore abandoned it to seek refuge with you; whereas the true sense is, Be it known unto you, that on account of a gift or faculty I have of seeing things to come, which faculty I suppose would be esteemed by you as acceptable and useful, I have abandoned Troy my native Country. That he could not mean what the Editor supposes, appears from these considerations, First, If he had represented himself as running from a falling city, he could never have said, I have &lblank; expos'd my self From certain and possess'd conveniences, To doubtful fortunes &lblank; Secondly, The absolute knowledge of the fall of Troy was a secret hid from the inferior Gods themselves; as appears from the poetical history of that war. It depended on many contingences whose existence they did not foresee. All that they knew was, that if such and such things happened Troy would fail. And this secret they communicated to Cassandra only, but along with it, the fate not to be believed. Several others knew each a several part of the secret; one, that Troy could not be taken unless Achilles went to the war; another, that it could not fall while it had the Palladium; and so on. But the secret, that it was absolutely to fall, was known to none. The sense here given will admit of no dispute amongst those who know how acceptable a Seer was amongst the Greeks. So that this Calchas, like a true priest, if it must needs be so, went where he could exercise his profession with most advantage. For it being much less common amongst the Greeks than the Asiatics, there would be there a greater demand for it.

Note return to page 321 [a] [(a) In most accepted pay. Oxford Editor.—Vulg. In most accepted pain.]

Note return to page 322 [7] 7 &lblank; how dearly ever parted,] i. e. how exquisitely soever his virtues be divided and balanced in him. So in Romeo and Juliet, Stufft, as they say with honourable parts, proportioned as ones thoughts would wish a man.

Note return to page 323 [8] 8 To others' eyes, &c. That most pure spirit, &c.] These two lines are totally omitted in all the editions but the first quarto. Mr. Pope.

Note return to page 324 [9] 9 How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall,] This is said with design that Achilles should apply it to himself and Ajax. But as creep is to be applied to Achilles, it conveys a wrong idea, as representing one who is timorous and afraid to atchieve great acts: whereas it should represent one entirely negligent in atchieving them. For this was then Achilles's case. So that we should read, How some men sleep in skittish Fortune's hall. For he was the first favourite of fortune; yet when he got into her presence instead of pushing his way, he became entirely negligent and unconcerned for her favours.

Note return to page 325 [1] 1 Like to a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, For pavement to the abject near, &lblank;] We should read, abject Rear, i. e. the mean abject horses which, by reason of their unfitness for service, are put into the rear of the line; or at least become the rear in a vigorous charge.

Note return to page 326 [a] [(a) More laud than they will give to gold o'er-dusted. Dr. Thirlby.—Vulg. More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

Note return to page 327 [2] 2 Made emulous missions &lblank;] Missions, for divisions, i. e. goings out, on one side and the other.

Note return to page 328 [3] 2 Keeps place with thought; &lblank;] i. e. there is in the providence of a state, as in the providence of the universe, a kind of ubiquity. The expression is exquisitely fine. Yet the Oxford Editor alters it to Keeps pace, and so destroys all its beauty.

Note return to page 329 [1] 1 A plague of Opinion! a man may wear it on both sides like a leather Jerkin.] This is said in compliment to Achilles. Opinion went all for him before, as now for Ajax. But the observation is fine, and admirably expressed.

Note return to page 330 [1] 1 During all question of the gentle Truce:] Question, for force, virtue.

Note return to page 331 [2] 2 &lblank; by Venus' hand I swear,] This oath was used to insinuate his resentment for Diomedes wounding his mother in the hand.

Note return to page 332 [3] 3 &lblank; a flat tamed piece;] i. e. a piece of wine out of which the spirit is all flown.

Note return to page 333 [4] 4 We'll not commend what we intend to sell.] But this is not talking like a chapman: for if it be the custom for the buyer to dispraise, it is the custom too for the seller to commend. Therefore, if Paris had an intention to sell Helen, he should; by this rule, have commended her. But the truth was he had no such intention, and therefore did prudently not to commend her: which shews Shakespear wrote, We'll not commend what we intend not sell. i. e. what we intend not to sell. The Oxford Editor has thought fit to honour this paraphrase by making it the text.

Note return to page 334 [5] 5 &lblank; with venomous wights she stays, Tedious as hell; &lblank;] i. e. with witches, who perform their venomous charms by night.

Note return to page 335 [a] [(a) &lblank; the secretest of natures. Oxford Editor—Vulg. the secrets of nature.]

Note return to page 336 [6] 6 To shame the seal of my petition tow'rds thee, By praising her. &lblank;] To shame the seal of a petition is nonsense. Shakespear wrote, To shame the zeal &lblank; and the sense is this: Grecian, you use me discourteously; you see, I am a passionate lover, by my petition to you; and therefore you should not shame the zeal of it, by promising to do what I require of you, for the sake of her beauty: when, if you had good manners, or a sense of a lover's delicacy, you would have promised to do it in compassion to his pangs and sufferings.

Note return to page 337 [7] 7 &lblank; and motive of her body:] Motive, for motion.

Note return to page 338 [8] 8 'Tis done like Hector, but securely done,] In the sense of the latin, securus—securus admodum de bello, animi securi homo. A negligent security arising from a contempt of the object opposed.

Note return to page 339 [9] 9 Valour and pride excell themselves in Hector;] It is an high absurdity to say, that any thing can excell in the extremity of little; which little, too, is as blank as nothing. Without doubt Shakespear wrote, Valour and pride parcell themselves in Hector; i. e. divide themselves in Hector in such a manner, that the one is almost infinite; the other almost nothing. For the use of this word we may see Richard III. &lblank; their woes are parcelled.

Note return to page 340 [1] 1 Not Neoptolemus so mirable, (On whose bright crest, Fame, with her loud'st O yes, Cries, this is he;) could promise to himself, &c.] That is to say, You, an old veteran warrior, threaten to kill me, when not the young son of Achilles (who is yet to serve his apprentisage in war, under the Grecian generals, and on that account called &grN;&gre;&gro;&grp;&grt;&groa;&grl;&gre;&grm;&gro;&grst;) dare himself entertain such a thought. But Shakespear meant another sort of man, as is evident from, On whose bright crest, &c. Which characterises one who goes foremost and alone: and can therefore suit only one, which one was Achilles; as Shakespear himself has drawn him, The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns The sinew and the forehand of our Host. And again, Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late Made em'lous missions 'mongst the Gods themselves, And drove great Mars to faction. And indeed the sense and spirit of Hector's speech requires that the most celebrated of his adversaries should be picked out to be defied; and this was Achilles, with whom Hector had his final affair. We must conclude then that Shakespear wrote, Not Neoptolemus's sire irascible On whose bright crest &lblank; Irascible is an old school term, and is an epithet suiting his character, and the circumstances he was then in. Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer. But our editor Mr. Theobald, by his obscure diligence, had found out that Wynken de Werde, in the old chronicle of The three destructions of Troy, introduces one Neoptolemus into the ten years quarrel, a person distinct from the son of Achilles, and therefore will have it, that Shakespear here means no other than the Neoptolemus of this worthy chronicler. He was told, to no purpose, that this fancy was absurd. For first, Wynken's Neoptolemus is a common-rate warrior, and so described as not to fit the character here given. Secondly, It is not to be imagined that the poet should on this occasion make Hector refer to a character not in the play, and never so much as mentioned on any other occasion. Thirdly, Wynken's Neoptolemus is a warrior on the Trojan side, and slain by Achilles. But Hector must needs mean by one who could promise a thought of added honour torn from him, a warrior amongst his enemies on the Grecian side.

Note return to page 341 [1] 1 A token from her daughter &c.] This is a circumstance taken from the story-book of the three destructions of Troy. Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 342 for hat read that.

Note return to page 343 [2] 2 And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds;] He calls Menelaus the transformation of Jupiter, that is, as himself explains it, the bull, on account of his horns, which he had as a cuckold. This cuckold he calls the primitive statue of cuckolds; i. e. his story had made him so famous, that he stood as the great archetype of this character. But how was he an oblique memorial of cuckolds? can any thing be a more direct memorial of cuckolds, than a cuckold? and so the foregoing character of his being the primitive statue of them plainly implies. To reconcile these two contradictory epithets therefore we should read, &lblank; and obelisque memorial of cuckolds. He is represented as one who would remain an eternal monument of his wife's infidelity. And how could this be better done than by calling him an obelisque memorial? of all human edifices the most durable. And the sentence rises gradually, and properly from a statue to an obelisque. To this the editor Mr. Theobald replies, that the bull is called the primitive statue: by which he only giveth us to understand, that he knoweth not the difference between the English articles a and the. But by the bull is meant Menelaus; which title Thersites gives him again afterwards—The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it—the bull has the game.—But the Oxford Editor makes quicker work with the term oblique, and alters it to antique, and so all the difficulty's evaded.

Note return to page 344 [3] 3 By all Diana's waiting-women yonder.] i. e. the stars which she points to.

Note return to page 345 [4] 4 &lblank; where reason can revolt Without perdition, and loss assume all reason Without revolt. &lblank;] A miserable expression of a quaint thought, That to be unreasonable in love is reasonable; and to be reasonable, unreasonable. Perdition and loss are both used in the very same sense, and that an odd one, to signify unreasonableness.

Note return to page 346 [6] 6 When many times the captive Grecians fall,] This reading supposes Hector insulting over his captives, which is not Troilus's meaning: who is here speaking of Hector's actions in the field. Without doubt Shakespear wrote, When many times the caitiff Grecians fall, i. e. dastardly Grecians; a character natural for the speaker to give them, and justified by his account of them.

Note return to page 347 [7] 7 &lblank; with recourse of tears;] i. e. tears that continue to course one another down the face.

Note return to page 348 [a] [(a) sneering. Mr. Theobald—Vulg. swearing.]

Note return to page 349 [8] 8 &lblank; bastard Margarelon] The introducing a bastard son of Priam, under the name of Margarelon, is one of the circumstances taken from the story-book of The three Destructions of Troy. Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 350 [9] 9 &lblank; the dreadful Sagittary Appals our numbers: &lblank;] “Beyonde the Royalme of Amasonne came an auncyent Kynge, wyse and dyscreete, named Epystrophus, and brought a M. Knyghtes, and a mervayllouse Beste that was called Sagittarye, that behynde the myddes was an horse, and to fore, a Man: This Beste was heery lyke an horse, and had his Eyen rede as a Cole, and shotte well with a bowe: This Beste made the Grekes sore aferde, and slewe many of them with his Bowe.” The three Destructions of Troy, printed by Caxton. Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 351 [1] 1 &lblank; on Galathe his horse,] From the same book is taken this name given to Hector's horse. Mr. Theobald.

Note return to page 352 [2] 2 &lblank; Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him, like the mower's swath; &c.] Tho' this old story-book was our poet's guide in the fable, yet nature led him up to the sublime images of Homer, whom want of learning kept him from acquaintance with.

Note return to page 353 [3] 3 Strike, fellows, strike, &lblank;] This particular of Achilles over powering Hector by numbers, is taken from the old storybook. Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 354 [4] 4 Frown on, you heav'ns, effect your rage with speed; Sit, Gods, upon your Thrones, and smile at Troy,] Here Troilus is made to invoke the Gods to frown in one line, and to smile in the other: And, as if he had not talked nonsense enough, after having made them do and undo, and protract the fate of Troy, in the next line he begs them to be speedy and brief, and dispatch them at once. We should read and point the passage thus, Sit, Gods, upon your Thrones, and smite at Troy, I say, at once. Let your brief plagues be mercy.

Note return to page 355 [5] 5 Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives;] We should certainly read, welling Niobes, i. e. Niobes welling, or streaming down with tears. To well, an old word to bubble or spring out. The image of Niobe was here properly employed. So in Hamlet, &lblank; like Niobe all tears. But the Oxford Editor alters it to wells and rivers.

Note return to page 356 [6] 6 Some galled goose of Winchester &lblank;] The publick stews were anciently under the jurisdiction of the bishop of Winchester. Mr. Pope.

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