Notes to Shakespeare, Volume III: The Tragedies
Chapter 1
Produced by David Starner, David King, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team
THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
SAMUEL JOHNSON
NOTES TO SHAKESPEARE
Vol. III
Tragedies
Edited, with an Introduction, by Arthur Sherbo
Los Angeles William Andrews Clark Memorial Library University of California 1958
GENERAL EDITORS
Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_
Ralph Cohen, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Lawrence Clark Powell, _Clark Memorial Library_
ASSISTANT EDITOR
W. Earl Britton, _University of Michigan_
ADVISORY EDITORS
Emmett L. Avery, _State College of Washington_
Benjamin Boyce, _Duke University_
Louis Bredvold, _University of Michigan_
John Butt, _King's College, University of Durham_
James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_
Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_
Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_
Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_
Ernest C. Mossner, _University of Texas_
James Sutherland, _University College, London_
H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
Edna C. Davis, _Clark Memorial Library_
Introduction on Tragedies
Dr. Johnson's reaction to Shakespeare's tragedies is a curious one, compounded as it is of deep emotional involvement in a few scenes in some plays and a strange dispassionateness toward most of the others. I suspect that his emotional involvement took root when he read Shakespeare as a boy--one remembers the terror he experienced in reading of the Ghost in _Hamlet_, and it was probably also as a boy that he suffered that shock of horrified outrage and grief at the death of Cordelia that prevented him from rereading the scene until be came to edit the play. Johnson's deepest feelings and convictions, Professor Clifford has recently reminded us, can be traced back to his childhood and adolescence. But it is surprising to learn, as one does from his commentary, that other scenes in these very plays (_Hamlet_ and _King Lear_, and in _Macbeth_, too) leave him unmoved, if one can so interpret the absence of any but an explanatory note on, say, Lear's speech beginning "Pray, do not mock me;/I am a very foolish fond old man." Besides this negative evidence there is also the positive evidence of many notes which display the dispassionate editorial mind at work where one might expect from Johnson an outburst of personal feeling. There are enough of these outbursts to warrant our expecting others, but we are too frequently disappointed. Perhaps Johnson thought of most of Shakespeare's tragedies as "imperial tragedies" and that is why he could maintain a stance of aloofness; conversely, "the play of _Timon_ is a domestick Tragedy, and therefore strongly fastens on the attention of the reader." But the "tragedy" of Timon does not capture the attention of the modern reader, and perhaps all attempts to fix Johnson's likes and dislikes, and the reasons for them, in the canon of Shakespeare's plays must circle endlessly without ever getting to their destination.
TRAGEDIES
Vol. IV
MACBETH
(392) Most of the notes which the present editor has subjoined to this play were published by him in a small pamphlet in 1745.
I.i (393,*) _Enter three Witches_] In order to make a true estimate of the abilities and merit of a writer, it it always necessary to examine the genius of his age, and the opinions of his contemporaries. A poet who should now make the whole action of his tragedy depend upon enchantment, and produce the chief events by the assistance of supernatural agents, would be censured as transgressing the bounds of probability, be banished from the theatre to the nursery, and condemned to write fairy tales instead of tragedies; but a survey of the notions that prevailed at the time when this play was written, will prove that Shakespeare was in no danger of such censures, since he only turned the system that was then universally admitted, to his advantage, and was far from overburthening the credulity of his audience.
The reality of witchcraft or enchantment, which, though not strictly the same, are confounded in this play, has in all ages and countries been credited by the common people, and in most, by the learned themselves. These phantoms have indeed appeared more frequently, in proportion as the darkness of ignorance has been more gross; but it cannot be shown, that the brightest gleams of knowledge have at any time been sufficient to drive them out of the world. The time in which this kind of credulity was at its height, seems to have been that of the holy war, in which the Christians imputed all their defeats to enchantments or diabolical opposition, as they ascribed their success to the assistance of their military saints; and the learned Dr. Warburton appears to believe (_Suppl. to the Introduction to Don Quixote_) that the first accounts of enchantments were brought into this part of the world by those _who_ returned from their eastern expeditions. But there is always some distance between the birth and maturity of folly as of wickedness: this opinion had long existed, though perhaps the application of it had in no foregoing age been so frequent, nor the reception so general. Olympiodorus, in Photius's extracts, tells us of one Libanius, who practised this kind of military magic, and having promised [Greek: choris opliton kata barbaron energein] to perform great things against the Barbarians without soldiers, was, at the instances of the empress Placidia, put to death, when he was about to have given proofs of his abilities. The empress shewed some kindness in her anger by cutting him off at a time so convenient for his reputation.
But a more remarkable proof of the antiquity of this notion may be found in St. Chrysostom's book _de Sacerdotia_, which exhibits a scene of enchantments not exceeded by any romance of the middle age: he supposes a spectator overlooking a field of battle attended by one that points out all the various objects of horror, the engines of destruction, and the arts of slaughter. [Greek: Deichnuto de eti para tois enantiois kai petomenous hippous dia tinos magganeias, kai oplitas di' aeros pheromenous, kai pasaen goaeteias dunomin kai idean.] _Let him then proceed to shew him in the opposite armies horses flying by enchantment, armed men transported through the air, and every power and form of magic._ Whether St. Chrysostom believed that such performances were really to be seen in a day of battle, or only endeavoured to enliven his description, by adopting the notions of the vulgar, it is equally certain, that such nations were in his time received, and that therefore they were not imported from the Saracens in a later age; the wars with the Saracens however gave occasion to their propagation, not only as bigotry naturally discovers prodigies, but as the scene of action was removed to a great distance.
The Reformation did not immediately arrive at its meridian, and though day was gradually encreasing upon us, the goblins of witchcraft still continued to hover in the twilight. In the time of queen Elizabeth was the remarkable trial of the witches of Warbois, whose conviction is still commemorated in an annual sermon at Huntingdon. But in the reign of king James, in which this tragedy was written, many circumstances concurred to propagate and confirm this opinion. The king, who was much celebrated for his knowledge, had, before his arrival in England, not only examined in person a woman accused of witchcraft, but had given a very formal account of the practices and illusions of evil spirits, the compacts of witches, the ceremonies used by them, the manner of detecting them, and the justice of punishing them, in his dialogues of _Daemonologie_, written in the Scottish dialect, and published at Edinburgh. This book was, soon after his accession, reprinted at London, and as the ready way to gain king James's favour was to flatter his speculations, the system of _Daemonologie_ was immediately adopted by all who desired either to gain preferment or not to lose it. Thus the doctrine of witchcraft was very powerfully inculcated; and as the greatest part of mankind have no other reason for their opinions than that they are in fashion, it cannot be doubted but this persuasion made a rapid progress, since vanity and credulity co-operated in its favour. The infection soon reached the parliament, who, in the first year of king James, made a law, by which it was enacted, chap. xii. "That if any person shall use any invocation or conjuration of any evil or wicked spirit; 2. or shall consult, covenant with, entertain, employ, feed or reward any evil or cursed spirit to or for any intent or purpose; 3. or take up any dead man, woman or child out of the grave,--or the skin, bone, or any part of the dead person, to be employed or used in any manner of witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment; 4. or shall use, practise or exercise any sort of witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment; 5. whereby any person shall be destroyed, killed, wasted, consumed, pined, or lamed in any part of the body; 6. That every such person being convicted shall suffer death." This law was repealed in our own time.
Thus, in the time of Shakespeare, was the doctrine of witchcraft at once established by law and by the fashion, and it became not only unpolite, but criminal, to doubt it; and as prodigies are always seen in proportion as they are expected, witches were every day discovered, and multiplied as fast in some places, that bishop Hall mentions a village in Lancashire, where their number was greater than that of the houses. The jesuits and sectaries took advantage of this universal error, and endeavoured to promote the interest of their parties by pretended cures of persons afflicted by evil spirits; but they were detected and exposed by the clergy of the established church.
Upon this general infatuation Shakespeare might be easily allowed to found a play, especially since he has followed with great exactness such histories as were then thought true; nor can it be doubted that the scenes of enchantment, however they may now be ridiculed, were both by himself and his audience thought awful and affecting.
I.i.10 (396,5) Fair is foul, and foul is fair] I believe the meaning is, that _to us_, perverse and malignant as we are, _fair is foul, and foul is fair_.
I.ii.14 (398,9) And Fortune, on his damned quarry smiling] Thus the old copy; but I am inclined to read _quarrel_. _Quarrel_ was formerly used for _cause_, or for _the occasion of a quarrel_, and is to be found in that sense in Hollingshed's account of the story of Macbeth, who, upon the creation of the prince of Cumberland, thought, says the historian, that he had _a just quarrel_, to endeavour after the crown. The sense therefore is, _Fortune smiling on his excrable cause_, &c. This is followed by Dr. Warburten. (see 1765, VI, 373, 4).
I.ii.28 (400,4) Discomfort swells] _Discomfort_ the natural opposite to _comfort_. _Well'd_, for _flawed_, was an emendation. The common copies have, _discomfort swells_.
I.ii.37 (400,5) As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks, So they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe]
Mr. Theobald has endeavoured to improve the sense of this passage by altering the punctuation thus:
--_they were As cannons overcharg'd, with double cracks So they redoubled strokes_--
He declares, with some degree of exultation, that he has no idea of a _cannon charged with double cracks_; but surely the great author will not gain much by an alteration which makes him say of a hero, that he _redoubles strokes with double cracks_, an expression not more loudly to be applauded, or more easily pardoned than that which is rejected in its favour. That a cannon is charged _with thunder_, or _with double thunders_, may be written, not only without nonsense, but with elegance, and nothing else is here meant by _cracks_, which in the time of this writer was a word of such emphasis and dignity, that in this play he terms the general dissolution of nature the _crack of doom_.
The old copy reads,
_They doubly redoubled strokes_.
I.ii.46 (401,8) So should he look, that seems to speak things strange] The meaning of this passage, as it now stands, is, _so should he look, that looks as if he told things strange_. But Rosse neither yet told strange things, nor could look as if he told them; Lenox only conjectured from his air that he had strange things to tell, and therefore undoubtedly said,
_What haste looks thro' his eyes? So should he look, that_ teems _to speak thinks strange_.
He looks like one that _is big with_ something of importance; a metaphor so natural that it is every day used in common discourse.
I.ii.55 (402,1) Confronted him with self-comparisons] [Theobald interpreted "him" as Cawdor; Johnson, in 1745, accused Shakespeare of forgetfulness on the basis of Theobald's error; and Warburton here speaks of "blunder upon blunder."] The second blunderer was the present editor.
I.iii.6 (403,5) _Aroint thee, witch_!] In one of the folio editions the reading is _Anoint thee_, in a sense very consistent with the common accounts of witches, who are related to perform many supernatural acts by the means of unguents, and particularly to fly through the air to the places where they meet at their hellish festivals. In this sense, _anoint thee, Witch_, will mean, _Away, Witch, to your infernal assembly_. This reading I was inclined to favour, because I had met with the word _aroint_ in no other authour till looking into Hearne's Collections I found it in a very old drawing, that he has published, in which St. Patrick is represented visiting hell, and putting the devils into great confusion by his presence, of whom one that is driving the damned before him with a prong, has a label issuing out of his mouth with these words, OUT OUT ARONGT, of which the last is evidently the same with _aroint_, and used in the same sense as in this passage.
I.iii.15 (405,8) And the very points they blew] As the word _very_ is here of no other use than to fill up the verse, it is likely that Shakespeare wrote _various_, which might be easily mistaken for _very_, being either negligently read, hastily pronounced, or imperfectly heard.
I.iii.21 (405,9) He shall live a man forbid] Mr. Theobald has very justly explained _forbid_ by _accursed_, but without giving any reason of his interpretation. To _bid_ is originally _to pray_, as in this Saxon fragment,
Ðe iÿ þiÿ þ bit y bote _He is wise that_ prays and makes amends.
As to forbid_ therefore implies to _prohibit_, in opposition to the word _bid_ in its present sense, it signifies by the same kind of opposition to _curse_, when it is derived from the same word in its primitive meaning.
I.iii.42 (409,3) are you aught/That man may question?] Are ye any beings with which man is permitted to hold converse, or of which it is lawful _to ask questions_?
I.iii.53 (410,5) Are ye fantastical] By _fantastical_, he means creatures of fantasy or imagination; the question is, Are these real beings before us, or are we deceived by illusions of fancy?
I.iii.97 (412,8) As thick as tale] [As thick as hail] Was Mr. Pope's correction. The old copy has,
--_As thick_ as tale _Can_ post _with_ post;--
which perhaps is not amiss, meaning that the news came as _thick_ as a _tale_ can _travel_ with the _post_. Or we may read, perhaps yet better,
--_As thick as tale_ Came _post with post_;--
That is, posts arrived as fast as they could be counted.
I.iii.130 (414,4) This supernatural solliciting] _Solliciting_ is rather, in my opinion, _incitement_ than _information_.
I.iii.134 (414,5) why do I yield] To _yield_ is, simply, to _give way to_.
I.iii.137 (414,6) Present fears/Are less than horrible imaginings] [W: feats] _Present fears_ are _fears of things present_, which Macbeth declares, and every man has found, to be less than the _imagination_ presents them while the objects are yet distant. _Fears_ is right.
I.iii.140 (415,7) single state of man] The _single state of man_ seems to be used by Shakespeare for an _individual_, in opposition to a _commonwealth_, or _conjunct body_.
I.iii.40 (415,8) function/Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,/ But what is not] All powers of action are oppressed and crushed by one overwhelming image in the mind, and nothing is present to me, but that which is really future. Of things now about me I have no perception, being intent wholly on that which has yet no existence.
I.iii.147 (415,9) Time and the hour runs through the roughest day] I suppose every reader is disgusted at the tautology in this passage, _Time and the hour_, and will therefore willingly believe that Shakespeare wrote it thus,
_Come what come may_, Time! on!--_the hour runs thro' the roughest day_.
Macbeth is deliberating upon the events which are to befall him, but finding no satisfaction from his own thoughts, he grows impatient of reflection, and resolves to wait the close without harrassing hinaelf with conjectures.
_Come what come may_.
But to shorten the pain of suspense, he calls upon Time In the usual stile of ardent desire, to quicken his motion,
_Time! on!_ --
He then comforts himself with the reflection that all his perplexity must have an end,
--_the hour runs thro' the roughest day._
This conjecture is supported by the passage in the letter to his lady, in which he says, _they referred me to the_ coming on of time, _with Hail, King that shalt be_.
I.iii.149 (416,1) My dull brain was wrought] My head was _worked_, _agitated_, put into commotion.
I.iv.9 (417,3) studied in his death] Instructed in the art of dying. It was usual to say _studied_, for _learned_ in science.
I.iv.12 (417,4) To find the mind's construction in the face] The _construction of the mind_ is, I believe, a phrase peculiar to Shakespeare; it implies the _frame_ or _disposition_ of the mind, by which it is determined to good or ill.
I.iv.26 (418,5) Which do but what they should, by doing everything, Safe toward your love and honour] Of the last line of this speech, which is certainly, as it is now read, unintelligible, an emendation has been attempted, which Dr. Warburton and Dr. Theobald once admitted as the true reading:
--_our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants, Which do but what they should, in doing every thing_ Fiefs _to your love and honour._
My esteem for these critics inclines me to believe that they cannot be much pleased with these expressions _fiefs to love_, or _fiefs to honour_, and that they have proposed this alteration rather because no other occured to them, than because they approved of it. I shall therefore propose a bolder change, perhaps with no better success, but _sua cuique placent_. I read thus,
--_our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants Which do but what they should, in doing_ nothing, Save _toward_ your love and honour.
We do but perform our duty when we contract all our views to your service, when we act with _no other_ principle than regard to _your love and honour_.
It is probable that this passage was first corrupted by writing _safe_ for _save_, and the lines then stood thus:
--_doing nothing Safe toward your love and honour._
which the next transcriber observing to be wrong, and yet not being able to discover the real fault, altered to the present reading.
Dr. Warburton has since changed _fiefs_ to _fief'd_, and Hanmer has altered _safe_ to _shap'd_. I am afraid none of us have hit the right word.
I.v.2 (420, 6) _by the perfected report_] By the best intelligence. Dr. Warburton would read, _perfected_, and explains _report_ by _prediction_. Little regard can be paid to an emendation that instead of clearing the sense, makes it more difficult.
I.v.23 (420, 7) thoud'st have, great Glamis,/That which cries, _Thus thou must do, if thou have it_] As the object of Macbeth's desire is here introduced speaking of itself, it is necessary to read,
--_thoud'st have, great Glamis, That which cries_, thus thou must do, if thou have _me_.
I.v.39 (422, 8) The raven himself is hoarse] Dr. Warburton reads,
--_The raven himself's_ not _hoarse_.
Yet I think the present words may stand. The messenger, says the servant, had hardly breath _to make up his message_; to which the lady answers mentally, that he may well want breath, such a message would add hoarseness to the raven. That even the bird, whose harsh voice is accustomed to predict calamities, could not _croak the entrance of_ Duncan but in a note of unwonted harshness.
I.v.42 (422, 2) mortal thoughts] This expression signifies not _the thoughts of mortals_, but _murtherous, deadly_, or _destructive designs_. So in act 5,
_Hold fast the_ mortal _sword_.
And in another place,
_With twenty_ mortal _murthers_.
I.v.47 (422, 3) nor keep peace between/The effect, and it!] The intent of lady Macbeth evidently is to wish that no womanish tenderness, or conscientious remorse, may hinder her purpose from proceeding to effect; but neither this, nor indeed any other sense, is expressed by the present reading, and therefore it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare wrote differently, perhaps thus,
_That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep_ pace _between Th' effect, and it_.--
To _keep_ pace _between_ may signify _to pass between_, to _intervene_. _Pace_ is on many occasions a favourite of Shakespeare's. This phrase is indeed not usual in this sease, but was it not its novelty that gave occasion to the present corruption? [The sense is, _that no compunctious visitings of nature_ may prevail upon her, to give place in her mind to _peaceful_ thoughts, or to rest one moment in quiet, from the hour of her purpose to its full completion in the effect. REVISAL.] This writer thought himself perhaps very sagacious that be found a meaning which nobody missed, the difficulty still remains how such a meaning is made by the words. (see 1765, VI, 394, 6)
I.v.49 (423, 5) take my milk for gall] _Take_ away _my milk_, and put _gall_ into the place.
I.v.51 (423, 6) You wait on nature's mischief!] _Nature's mischief_ is mischief done to nature, violation of nature's order committed by wickedness.
I.v.55 (423,8) To cry, _hold, hold_!] On this passage there is a long criticism in the _Rambler_.
I.v.58 (424,1) This ignorant present time] _Ignorant_ has here the signification of _unknowing_; that it, I feel by anticipation these future hours, of which, according to the process of nature, the present time would be _ignorant_.
I.vi.3 (425,3) our gentle senses] _Senses_ are nothing more _than each man's sense_. _Gentle senses_ is very elegant, as it means _placid_, _calm_, _composed_, and intimates the peaceable delight of a fine day. (see 1765, VI,396,2)
I.vi.7 (426,5) coigne of 'vantage] Convenient corner.
I.vi.13 (426,7) How you should bid god-yield as for your pains] I believe _yield_, or, as it is in the folio of 1623, _eyld_, is a corrupted contraction of _shield_. The wish implores not _reward_ but _protection_.
I.vii.1 (428,1) If it were _done_] A man of learning recommends another punctuation:
_If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well. It were done quickly, if, &c._
I.vii.2 (428,2) If the assassination/Could tramel up the consequence] Of this soliloquy the meaning is not very clear; I have never found the readers of Shakespeare agreeing about it. I understand it thus,