Notes to Shakespeare — Volume 01: Comedies

Chapter 4

Chapter 43,967 wordsPublic domain

II.i.148 (226,3) [I will not believe such a Cataian] [Theobald and Warburton had both explained "Cataian" as a liar.] Mr. Theobald and Dr. Warburton have both told their stories with confidence, I am afraid, very disproportionate to any evidence that can be produced. That _Cataian_ was a word of hatred or contempt is plain, but that it signified a _boaster_ or a _liar_ has not been proved. Sir Toby, in _Twelfth Night_, says of the Lady Olivia to her maid, "thy Lady's a _Cataian_;" but there is no reason to think he means to call her _liar_. Besides, Page intends to give Ford a reason why Pistol should not be credited. He therefore does not say, _I would not believe such a_ liar: for that he is a liar is yet to be made probable: but he says, _I would not believe such a Cataian on any testimony of his veracity_. That is, "This fellow has such an odd appearance; is so unlike a man civilized, and taught the duties of life, that I cannot credit him." To be a foreigner was always in England, and I suppose everywhere else, a reason of dislike. So Pistol calls Slender in the first act, a _mountain foreigner_; that is, a fellow uneducated, and of gross behaviour; and again in his anger calls Bardolph, _Hungarian wight_.

II.i.182 (228,4) [very rogues] A _rogue_ is a _wanderer_ or _vagabond_, and, in its consequential signification, _a cheat_.

II.i.236 (230,7) [my long sword] Not long before the introduction of rapiers, the swords in use were of an enormous length, and sometimes raised with both hands. Shallow, with an old man's vanity, censures the innovation by which lighter weapons were introduced, tells what he could once have done with his _long sword_, and ridicules the terms and rules of the rapier.

II.ii.28 (234,6) [red lattice phrases] Your ale-house conversation.

II.ii.28 (234,7) [your bold-beating oaths] [W: bold-bearing] A _beating oath_ is, I think, right; so we now say, in low language, a _thwacking_ or _swinging_ thing.

II.ii.61 (235,8) [canaries] This is the name of a brisk light dance, and is therefore properly enough used in low language for any hurry or perturbation.

II.ii.94 (236,1) [frampold] This word I have never seen elsewhere, except in Dr. Hacket's _Life of Archbishop Williams_, where a _frampul_ man signifies a peevish troublesome fellow.

II.ii.142 (238,3) [Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights] [Warburton had quoted a passage from Dryden'a _Amboyna_ for "fights," explaining them as "small arms."] The quotation from Dryden might at least have raised a suspicion that _fights_ were neither _small_ arms, nor cannon. _Fights_ and _nettings_ are properly joined. _Fights_, I find, are _cloaths_ hung round the ship to conceal the men from the enemy, and _close-fights_ are _bulkheads_, or any other shelter that the fabrick of a ship affords.

II.ii.170 (240,5) [not to charge you] That is, not with a purpose of putting you to expence, or _being burthensome_.

II.ii.256 (242,6) [instance and argument] _Instance_ is _example_.

II.ii.324 (244,8) [Eleven o'clock] Ford should rather have said _ten o'clock_: the time was between ten and eleven; and his impatient suspicion was not likely to stay beyond the time.

II.iii.60 (246,2) [mock-water] The host means, I believe, to reflect on the inspection of urine, which made a considerable part of practical physick in that time; yet I do not well see the meaning of _mock-water_.

III.i.17 (249,5) [By shallow rivers, to whose falls] [Warburton had introduced _The Passionate Shepherd to his Love_ and _The Nymph's _Reply_ at this point in his text, attributing both to Shakespeare.] These two poems, which Dr. Warburton gives to Shakespeare, are, by writers nearer that time, disposed of, one to Marlow, the other to Raleigh. These poems are read in different copies with great variations.

III.i.123 (253,6) [scald, scurvy] _Scall_ was an old word of reproach, as _scab_ was afterwards.

Chaucer imprecates on his _scrivener_;

"Under thy longe lockes mayest thou have the _scalle_."

III.ii.58 (255,7) [We have linger'd about a match between Anne Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer] They have not linger'd very long. The match was proposed by Sir Hugh but the day before.

III.ii.73 (256,1) [The gentleman is of no having] _Having_ is the same as _estate_ or _fortune_.

III.ii.90 (257,2) [I think, I shall drink in pipe-wine first with him] [Tyrwhitt: horn-pipe wine] _Pipe_ is known to be a vessel of wine, now containing two hogsheads. _Pipe_ wine is therefore wine, not from the _bottle_, but the _pipe_; and the text consists in the ambiguity of the word, which signifies both a cask of wine, and a musical instrument. _Horn-pipe wine_ has no meaning. (1773)

III.iii.60 (260,4) [that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance] [Warburton had explained the two tents as head-dresses, and "of Venetian admittance" as "which will admit to be adorned."] This note is plausible, except in the explanation of _Venetian admittance_: but I am afraid this whole system of dress is unsupported by evidence.

III.iv.13 (267,7) [father's wealth] Some light may be given to those who shall endear one to calculate the increase of English wealth, by observing, that Latymer, in the time of Edward VI. mentions it as proof of his father's prosperity, _That though but a yeoman. he gave his daughters five pounds each for her portion_. At the latter end of Elizabeth, seven hundred pounds were such a temptation to courtship, as made all other motives suspected. Congreve makes twelve thousand pounds more than a counterbalance to the affectation of Belinda. Ho poet would now fly his favourite character at less than fifty thousand.

III.iv.100 (270,1) [will you cast away your child on a fool and a physician?] I should read _fool_ or a _physician_, meaning Slender and Caius.

III.v.113 (274,4) [bilbo] A _bilbo_ is a Spanish blade, of which the excellence is flexibleness and elasticity.

III.v.117 (274,5) [kidney] _Kidney_ in this phrase now signifies _kind_ or _qualities_, but Falstaff means a man whose _kidnies_ are as _fat_ as mine.

III.v.155 (275,6) [I'll be horn-mad] There is no image which our author appears so fond of, as that of cuckold's horns. Scarcely a light character is introduced that does not endearor to produce merriment by some allusion to horned husbands. As he wrote his plays for the stage rather than the press, he perhaps reviewed them seldom, and did not observe this repetition, or finding the jest, however, frequent, still successful, did not think correction necessary.

IV.i (276,7) [_Page's house_. _Enter Mrs. Page. Mrs. Quickly, and William_] This is a very trifling scene, of no use to the plot, and I should think of no great delight to the audience; but Shakespeare best knew what would please.

IV.ii.22 (879,8) [he so takes on] _To take on_, which is now used for _to, grieve_, seems to be used by our author for _to, rage_. Perhaps it was applied to any passion.

IV.ii.26 (279,9) [buffets himself on the forehead, crying, _peer- out, peer-out_!] That is, appear horns. Shakespeare is at his old lunes. (see 1765, II, 526,+)

IV.ii.161 (283,1) [this wrongs you] This is below your character, unworthy of your understanding, injurious to your honour. So in _The Taming of the Shrew_, Bianca, being ill treated by her rugged sister, says: "You _wrong_ me much, indeed you _wrong_ yourself."

IV.ii.195 (284,2) [ronyon!] _Ronyon_, applied to a woman, means, as far as can be traced, much the same with _scall_ or _scab_ spoken of a man.

IV.ii.204 (284,3) [I spy a great peard under his muffler] As the second stratagem, by which Falstaff escapes, is much the grosser of the two, I wish it had been practiced first. It is very unlikely that Ford, baring been so deceived before, and knowing that he had been deceived, would suffer him to escape in so slight a disguise.

IV.ii.208 (284,4) [cry out upon no trail] The expression is taken from the hunters. _Trail_ is the scent left by the passage of the game. _To cry out_, is to _open_ or _bark_.

IV.iii.13 (285,5) [they must come off] _To come off_, signifies in our author, sometimes _to be uttered with spirit and volubility_. In this place it seems to mean what is in our time expressed by _to come down_, to pay liberally and readily. These accidental and colloquial senses are the disgrace of language, and the plague of commentators.

IV.iv.32 (287,7) [And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle] To _take_, in Shakespeare, signifies to seize or strike with a disease, to blast. So in _Hamlet_;

"No planet _takes_."

So in _Lear_;

"-----Strike her young bones, "Ye taking airs, with lameness." (rev. 1778,I,341,4)

IV.v.7 (290,3) [standing-bed, and truckle-bed] The usual furniture of chambers in that time was a standing-bed, under which was a _trochle, truckle_, or _running_ bed. In the standing-bed lay the master, and in the truckle-bed the servant. So in Hall's _Account of a Servile Tutor_:

"He lieth in the _truckle-bed_. "While his young master lieth o'er his head."

IV.v.21 (291,4) [Bohemian-Tartar] The French call a _Bohemian_ what we call a _Gypsey_; but I believe the Host means nothing more than, by a wild appellation, to insinuate that Simple makes a strange appearance.

IV. v. 29 (291, 5) [mussel-shell] He calls poor Simple mussel-shell, because he stands with his mouth open.

IV. v. 104 (293, 6) [_Primero_] A game at cards.

IV. v. 122 (294, 7) [counterfeiting the action of an old woman] [T: a wood woman] This emendation is received by Sir Thomas Hammer, but rejected by Dr. Warburton. To me it appears reasonable enough.

IV. v. 130 (294, 8) [sure, one of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so cross'd] The great fault of this play, is the frequency of expressions so profane, that no necessity of preserving character can justify them. There are laws of higher authority than those of criticism.

V. v. 28 (300, 3) [my shoulders for the fellow of this walk] Who the _fellow_ is, or why he keeps his shoulders for bin, I do not understand.

V. v. 77 (304, 9) [Fairies use flowers for their charactery] For the matter with which they make letters.

V. v. 84 (304, 1) [I smell a man of middle earth] Spirits are supposed to inhabit the ethereal regions, and fairies to dwell under ground, men therefore are in a middle station.

V. v. 99 (305, 4) [_Lust is but a bloody fire_] So the old copies. I once thought it should be read,

_Lust is but a_ cloudy _fire_,

but Sir T. Hammer reads with less violence,

_Lust is but_ i' the blood a _fire_.

V. v. 172 (308, 8) [ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me] Though this be perhaps not unintelligible, yet it is an odd way of confessing his dejection. I should wish to read:

--_ignorance itself_ has a plume o' me;

That is, I am so depressed, that ignorance itself plucks me, and decks itself with the spoils of my weakness. Of the present reading, which is probably right, the meaning may be, I am so enfeebled, that _ignorance itself_ weighs me down and oppresses me. (see 1765, II, 554, 1)

V. v. 181 (309, 1) [laugh at my wife] The two plots are excellently connected, and the transition very artfully made in this speech.

V. v. 249 (311, 2) [_Page_. Tell, what remedy?] In the first sketch of this play, which, as Mr. Pope observes, is much inferior to the latter performance, the only sentiment of which I regret the omission, occurs at this critical time, when Fenton brings in his wife, there is this dialogue.

Mrs. Ford. _Come, mistress Page. I must be bold with you. 'Tis pity to part love that is so true._

Mrs. Page. [Aside] _Although that I have miss'd in my intent, Yet I am glad my husband's match is cross'd. --Here Fenton. take her.--_

Eva. _Come, master Page, you must needs agree._

Ford. _I' faith, Sir, come, you see your wife is pleas'd._

Page. _I cannot tell, and yet my heart is eas'd; And yet it doth me good the Doctor miss'd. Come hither, Fenton, and come hither, daughter._ (1773)

General Observation. Of this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, that it was written at the command of queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more plays; but suspecting that it might pall by continued uniformity, directed the poet to diversify his manner, by shewing him in love. No task is harder than that of writing to the ideas of another. Shakespeare knew what the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, that by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff must have suffered so much abatement, that little of his former cast would have remained. Falstaff could not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He could only counterfeit love, and his professions could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, but of money. Thus the poet approached as near as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having perhaps in the former plays completed his own idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff all his former power of entertainment.

This comedy is remarkable for the variety and number of the personages, who exhibit more characters appropriated and discriminated, than perhaps can be found in any other play.

Whether Shakespeare was the first that produced upon the English stage the effect of language distorted and depraved by provincial or foreign pronunciations, I cannot certainly decide. This mode of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise only on him, who originally discovered it, for it requires not much of either wit or judgment: its success must be derived almost wholly from the player, but its power in a skilful month, even he that despises it, is unable to resist.

The conduct of this drama is deficient; the action begins and ends often before the conclusion, and the different parts might change places without inconvenience; but its general power, that power by which all works of genius shall finally be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had reader or spectator, who did not think it too soon at an end.

Vol. II

MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Persons Represented: Varrius might be omitted, for he is only once spoken to, and says nothing.

There it perhaps not one of Shakespeare's plays more darkened than this by the peculiarities of its authour, and the unskilfulness of its editors, by distortions of phrase, or negligence of transcription.

I.i.6 (4,4) [lists] Bounds, limits.

I.i.7 (4,5) [Then no more remains, But that your sufficiency, as your worth is able, And let them work]

This is a passage which has exercised the sagacity of the editors, and is now to employ mine. [Johnson adds T's and W's notes] Sir Tho. Hammer, having caught from Mr. Theobald a hint that a line was lost, endeavours to supply it thus.

--_Then no more remains, But that to your sufficiency_ you join A will to serve us, _as your worth is able_.

He has by this bold conjecture undoubtedly obtained a meaning, but, perhaps not, even in his own opinion, the meaning of Shakespeare.

That the passage is more or less corrupt, I believe every reader will agree with the editors. I am not convinced that a line is lost, as Mr. Theobald conjectures, nor that the change of _but_ to _put_, which Dr. Warburton has admitted after some other editor, will amend the fault. There was probably some original obscurity in the expression, which gave occasion to mistake in repetition or transcription. I therefore suspect that the authour wrote thus,

--_Then no more remains. But that to your_ sufficiencies _your worth is_ abled, _And let them work.

Then nothing remains more than to tell you, that your virtue is now invested with power equal to your knowledge and wisdom. Let therefore your knowledge and your virtue now work together._ It may easily be conceived how _sufficiencies_ was, by an inarticulate speaker, or inattentive hearer, confounded with _sufficiency as_, and how _abled_, a word very unusual, was changed into _able_. For _abled_, however, an authority is not wanting. Lear uses it in the same sense, or nearly the same, with the Duke. As for _sufficiencies_, D. Hamilton, in his dying speech, prays that Charles II. _may exceed both the_ virtues _and_ sufficiencies _of his father_.

I.i.11 (6,6) [the terms For common justice, you are as pregnant in] The later editions all give it, without authority,

--_the terms_ Of _justice_,--

and Dr. Warburton makes _terms_ signify _bounds_ or _limits_. I rather think the Duke meant to say, that Escalus was _pregnant_, that is, _ready_ and knowing in all the forms of law, and, among other things, in the _terms_ or _times set apart_ for its administration.

I.i.18 (7,7) [we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply] [W: roll] This editor is, I think, right in supposing a corruption, but less happy in his emendation. I read,

--_we have with special_ seal _Elected him our absence to supply_.

A special _seal_ is a very natural metonymy for a special _commission_.

I.i.28 (8,8)

[There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history Fully unfold]

Either this introduction has more solemnity than meaning, or it has a meaning which I cannot discover. What is there peculiar in this, that a man's _life_ informs the observer of his _history_? Might it be supposed that Shakespeare wrote this?

_There is a kind of character in thy_ look.

_History_ may be taken in a more diffuse and licentious meaning, for _future occurrences_, or the part of life yet to come. If this sense be received, the passage is clear and proper.

I.i.37 (8,1) [to fine issues] To great consequences. For high purposes.

I.i.41 (9,2) [But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advertise] I know not whether we may not better read,

_One that can my part_ to _him advertise_,

One that can _inform himself_ of that which it would be otherwise _my part_ to tell him.

I.i.43 (9,3) [Hold therefore, Angelo] That is, continue to be Angelo; _hold_ as thou art.

I.i.47 (9,4) [first in question] That is, first called for; first appointed.

I.i.52 (9,5) [We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice Proceeded to you] [W: a levell'd] No emendation is necessary. _Leaven'd_ choice is one of Shakespeare's harsh metaphors. His train of ideas seems to be this. _I have proceeded to you with choice_ mature, concocted, fermented, _leavened_. When bread is _leavened_ it is left to ferment: a _leavened_ choice is therefore a choice not hasty, but considerate, not declared as soon as it fell into the imagination, but suffered to work long in the mind. Thus explained, it suits better with _prepared_ than _levelled_.

I.i.65 (10,6) [your scope is as mine own] That is, Your amplitude of power.

I.ii.22 (12,7) [in metre?] In the primers, there are metrical graces, such as, I suppose, were used in Shakespeare's time.

I.ii.25 (12,9) [Grace is grace, despight of all controversy] [Warbarton had suspected an allusion to ecclesiastical disputes.] I am in doubt whether Shakespeare's thoughts reached so far into ecclesiastical disputes. Every commentator is warped a little by the tract of his own profession. The question is, whether the second gentleman has ever heard grace. The first gentleman limits the question to _grace in metre_. Lucio enlarges it to _grace in any_ form _or language_. The first gentleman, to go beyond him, says, or _in any religion_, which Lucio allows, because the nature of things is unalterable; grace is as immutably grace, as his merry antagonist is a _wicked villain_. Difference in religion cannot make a _grace_ not to be _grace_, a _prayer_ not to be _holy_; as nothing can make a _villain_ not to be a _villain_. This seems to be the meaning, such as it is.

I.ii.28 (12,1) [there went but a pair of sheers between us] We are both of the same piece.

I.ii.35 (13,2) [be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet?] The jest about the pile of a French velvet alludes to the loss of hair in the French disease, a very frequent topick of our authour's jocularity. Lucio finding that the gentleman understands the distemper so well, and mentions it so _feelingly_, promises to remember to drink his _health_, but to forget _to drink after him_. It was the opinion of Shakespeare's time, that the cup of an infected person was contagious.

I.ii.50 (13,3) [To three thousand dollars a year] [A quibble intended between _dollars_ and _dolours_. Hammer.] The same jest occured before in the _Tempest_.

I.ii.83 (15,5) [what with the sweat] This nay allude to the _sweating sickness_, of which the memory was very fresh in the time of Shakespeare: but more probably to the method of cure then used for the diseases contracted in brothels.

I.ii.124 (16,6)

[Thus can the demi-god, Authority, Make us pay down, for our offence, by weight.-- The words of heaven;--on whom it will, it will; On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just]

[Warburton had emended the punctuation of the second line] I suspect that a line is lost.

I.ii.162 (18,8) [the fault, and glimpse, of newness] _Fault_ and _glimpse_ have so little relation to each other, that both can scarcely be right: we may read _flash_ for _fault_ or, perhaps we may read,

_Whether it be the fault_ or _glimpse_--

That is, whether it be the seeming enormity of the action, or the glare of new authority. Yet the sane sense follows in the next lines, (see 1765, I, 275, 4)

I.ii.188 (19,2) [There is a prone and speechless dialect] I can scarcely tell what signification to give to the word _prone_. Its primitive and translated senses are well known. The authour may, by a _prone_ dialect, mean a dialect which men are _prone_ to regard, or a dialect natural and unforced, as those actions seem to which we are _prone_. Either of these interpretations are sufficiently strained; but such distortion of words is not uncommon in our authour. For the sake of an easier sense, we may read,

--_In her youth There is a_ pow'r, _and speechless dialect, Such as moves men._

Or thus,

_There is a_ prompt _and speechless dialect._

I.ii.194 (20,3) [under grievous imposition] I once thought it should be _inquisition_, but the present reading is probably right. _The crime would be under grievous_ penalties imposed.

I.iii.2 (20,4) [Believe not, that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a compleat bosom] Think not that a breast _compleatly armed_ can be pierced by the dart of love that comes _fluttering without force_.

I.iii.12 (21,5) [(A man of stricture and firm abstinence)] [W: strict ure] _Stricture_ may easily be used for _strictness_; _ure_ is indeed an old word, but, I think, always applied to things, never to persons.

I.iii.43 (22,9) [To do it slander] The text stood,

_So do in slander_.--

Sir Thomas Hammer has very well corrected it thus,

To _do_ it _slander_.--

Yet perhaps less alteration might have produced the true reading,

_And yet my nature never, in the fight,_ So _do_ing _slander_ed.--

And yet my nature never suffer slander by doing any open acts of severity. (see 1765, I,279,3)

I.iii.51 (23,2) [Stands at a guard] Stands on terms of defiance.

I.iv.30 (24,3) [make me not your story] Do not, by deceiving me, make me a subject for a tale.

I.iv.41 (26,5)

[as blossoming time That from the seedness the bare fallow brings To teeming foyson, so her plenteous womb Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry]

As the sentence now stands, it is apparently ungrammatical. I read,

At _blossoming time_, &c.

That is, _As they that feed grow full, so her womb now_ at blossoming time, _at that time through which the feed time proceeds to the harvest_, her womb shows what has been doing. Lucio ludicrously calls pregnancy _blossoming time_, the time when fruit is promised, though not yet ripe.