Chapter 15

IV.i.59-64 (431,8) [Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as _Obidicut_; _Hobbididance_, prince of dumbness; _Mahu_, of stealing; _Modo_, of murder; and _Flibbertigibbet_, of mopping and mowing; who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So bless thee, master!]] The passage in crotchets is omitted in the folio, because I suppose as the story was forgotten, the jest was lost.

IV.i.68 (432,1) Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man] Lear has before uttered the same sentiment, which indeed cannot be too strongly impressed, tho' it may be too often repeated.

IV.i.69 (432,2) That slaves your ordinance] [W: braves] The emendation is plausible, yet I doubt whether it be right. The language of Shakespeare is very licentious, and his words have often meanings remote from the proper and original use. To _slave_ or _beslave_ another is to _treat_ him _with terms of indignity_; in a kindred sense, to _slave the ordinance_, may be, to _slight_ or _ridicule_ it.

IV.ii.1 (433,1) our mild husband] It must be remembered that Albany, the husband of Gonerill, disliked, in the end of the first act, the scheme of oppression and ingratitude.

IV.ii.29 (434,5) I have been worth the whistle] This expression is a reproach to Albany for having neglected her; _though you disregard me thus_, I have been worth the whistle, _I have found one that thinks me worth calling_. (1773)

IV.ii.35 (435,9) From her maternal sap] [W: material] I suppose no reader doubts but the word should be _maternal_. Dr. Warburton has taken great pains without much success, and indeed without much exactness of attention, to prove that _material_ has a more proper sense than _maternal_, and yet seemed glad at last to infer from an apparent error of another press that _material_ and _maternal_ meant the same.

IV.ii.45 (436,2) A man, a prince by him so benefited?] [After this line I suspect a line or two to be wanting, which upbraids her for her sister's cruelty to Glo'ster. WARBURTON.] Here is a pompous note to support a conjecture apparently erroneous, and confuted by the next scene, in which the account is given for the first time to Albany of Glo'ster's sufferings.

IV.ii.50 (436,3) Like monsters of the deep] Fishes are the only animals that are known to prey upon their own species.

IV.ii.62 (437,5) Thou changed, and self-cover'd thing] Of these lines there is but one copy, and the editors are forced open conjecture. They have published this line thus;

Thou chang'd, and _self-converted_ thing;

but I cannot but think that by _self-cover'd_ the author meant, thou that hast _disguised_ nature by wickedness; thou that hast _hid_ the woman under the fiend.

IV.ii.83 (438,6) One way, I like this well] Gonerill is well pleased that Cornwall is destroyed, who was preparing war against her and her husband, but is afraid of losing Edmund to the widow.

IV.iii (439,1) _The French camp, near Dover. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman_] This scene seems to have been left out only to shorten the play, and is necessary to continue the action. It is extant only in the quarto, being omitted in the first folio. I have therefore put it between crotchets.

IV.iii (439,2) _a Gentleman_] The gentleman whom he sent in the foregoing act with letters to Cordelia.

IV.iii.26 (440,4) Made she no verbal question?] I do not see the impropriety of _verbal question_; such pleonasms are common. So we say, _my ears have heard, my eyes have beheld_. Besides, where is the word _quest_ [Warburton's emendation] to be found?

IV.iii.33 (440,6) And clamour-moisten'd] _Clamour moisten'd her_; that is, _her out-cries were accompanied with tears_.

IV.iii.36 (441,7) one self-mate and mate] The same husband and the same wife.

IV.iii.51 (441,9) 'Tis so they are a-foot] Dr. Warburton thinks it necessary to read, _'tis said_; but the sense is plain, _So it is_ that _they are on foot_.

IV.iv.4 (442,1) With bur-docks, hemlock] I do not remember any such plant as a _hardock_, but one of the most common weeds is a _burdock_, which I believe should be read here; and so Hanmer reads.

IV.iv.20 (443,2) the means to lead it] The reason which should guide it.

IV.iv.26 (443,3) My mourning and important tears hath pitied] In other places of this author for _importunate_.

IV.iv.27 (443,4) No blown embition] No inflated, no swelling pride. Beza on the Spanish Armada:

"Quem bene te ambitio mersit vanissima, ventus, Et tumidos tumidae voa superastis aquae."

IV.v.4 (444,1) _Reg._ Lord Edmund spake not with your lady at home?] The folio reads, _your lord_; but lady is the first and better reading.

IV.v.22 (444,3) Let me unseal the letter./_Stew._ Madam, I had rather] I know not well why Shakespeare gives the steward, who is a mere factor of wickedness, so much fidelity. He now refuses the letter; and afterwards, when he is dying, thinks only how it may be safely delivered.

IV.v.29 (445,5) I do advise you, take this note] _Note_ means in this place not a _letter_ but a _remark_. Therefore _observe_ what I am saying.

IV.v.32 (446,6) You may gather more] You may infer more than I have directly told you.

IV.vi (446,1) _The country near Dover. Enter Glo'ster, and Edgar as a peasant_] This scene, and the stratagem by which Glo'ster is cured of his desperation, are wholly borrowed from Sidney's _Arcadia_.

IV.vi.7 (447,2) thy voice is alter'd] Edgar alters his voice in order to pass afterwards for a malignant spirit.

IV.vi.11 (447,5) How fearful/And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!] This description has been much admired since the time of Addison, who has remarked, with a poor attempt at pleasantry, that "he who can read it without being giddy, has a very good head, or a very bad one." The description is certainly not mean, but I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence of poetry. He that looks from a precipice finds himself assailed by one great and dreadful image of irresistible destruction. But this overwhelming idea is dissipated and enfeebled from the instant that the mind can restore itself to the observation of particulars, and diffuse its attention to distinct objects. The enumeration of the choughs and crows, the samphire-man, and the fishers, counteracts the great effect of the prospect, as it peoples the desert of intermediate vacuity, and stops the mind in the rapidity of its descent through emptiness and horror.

IV.vi.19 (447,4) her cock] Her cock-boat.

IV.vi.43 (448,6) when life itself/Yields to the theft] When life is willing to be destroyed.

IV.vi.47 (449,7) Thus might he pass, indeed] Thus he might _die_ in reality. We still use the word _passing_ bell.

IV.vi.53 (449,9) Ten masts at each make not the altitude] [Pope: attacht] Mr. Pope's conjecture may stand if the word which he uses were known in our author's time, but I think it is of later introduction. He may say,

Ten masts _on end_--

IV.vi.57 (449,1) chalky bourn] _Bourn_ seems here to signify a _hill_. Its common signification is a _brook_. Milton in _Comus_ uses _bosky bourn_ in the same sense perhaps with Shakespeare. But in both authors it may mean only a _boundary_.

IV.vi.73 (450,2) the clearest gods] The purest; the most free from evil.

IV.vi.80 (450,3) Bear free and patient thoughts] To be melancholy is to have the mind _chained down_ to one painful idea; there is therefore great propriety in exhorting Glo'ster to _free thoughts_, to an emancipation of his soul from grief and despair.

IV.vi.81 (450,4) The safer sense will ne'er accommodate/His master thus] [W: sober sense] I read rather,

The _saner_ sense will ne'er accoomodate His master thus.

"Here is Lear, but he must be mad: his sound or _sane_ senses would never suffer him to be thus disguised."

IV.vi.87 (451,5) That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper] This _crow-keeper_ was so common in the author's time, that it is one of the few peculiarities mentioned by Ortelius in his account of our island.

IV.vi.93 (451,8) Give the word] Lear supposes himself in a garrison, and before he lets Edgar pass, requires the watch-word.

IV.vi.97 (452,7) Ha! Gonerill!--with a white beard!] So reads the folio, properly; the quarto, whom the later editors have followed, has, _Ha! Gonerill, ha! Regan! they flattered me_, &c. which is not so forcible.

IV.vi.98 (452,8) They flattered me like a dog] They played the spaniel to me.

IV.vi.121 (453,2) Whose face between her forks] I believe that the _forks_ were two prominences of the ruff rising on each side of the face.

IV.vi.124 (453,4) nor the soyled horse] _Soiled_ horse is probably the same as _pampered_ horse, _un cheval soûlé_.

IV.vi.169 (454.5) Robes and furr'd gowns hide all] From _hide all_ to _accuser's lips_, the whole passage is wanting in the first edition, being added, I suppose, at his revisal.

IV.vi.187 (455,8) This a good block!] I do not see how this _block_ corresponds either with his foregoing or following train of thoughts. Madmen think not wholly at random. I would read thus, _a good flock_. _Flocks_ are wool moulded together. The sentence then follows properly:

It were a delicate stratagem to shoe A troop of horse with felt;--

i.e. with _flocks_ kneaded to a mass, a practice I believe sometimes used in former ages, for it is mentioned in _Ariosto_:

"--Fece nel cader strepito quanto Avesse avuto sotto i piedi il _feltro_."

It is very common for madmen to catch an accidental hint, and strain it to the purpose predominant in their minds. Lear picks up a _flock_, and immediately thinks to surprize his enemies by a troop of horse shod with _flocks_ or _felt_. Yet _block_ may stand, if we suppose that the sight of a block put him in mind of mounting his horse.

IV.vi.199 (457,1) Why, this would make a man, a man of salt] Would make a man melt away like salt in wet weather.

IV.vi.206 (457,2) Then there's life in't] The case is not yet desperate.

IV.vi.217 (457,3) the main descry/Stands on the hourly thought] The _main_ body is _expected_ to be _descry'd_ every hour. The expression is harsh.

IV.vi.246 (459,7) che vor'ye] _I warn you_. Edgar counterfeits the western dialect.

IV.vi.281 (460,3) Thee I'll rake up] I'll _cover_ thee. In Staffordshire, to _rake_ the fire, is to cover it with fuel for the night.

IV.vi.234 (460,4) the death-practis'd duke] The duke of Albany, whose death is machinated by _practice_ or treason.

IV.vii.3 (461,1) every measure fail me] All good which I shall allot thee, or _measure out_ to thee, will be scanty.

IV.vii.9 (461,4) shortens my made intent] [W: laid] An intent _made_, is an intent _formed_. So we say in common language, to _make a design_, and to _make a resolution_.

IV.vii.41 (464,2) 'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits, at once,/Had not concluded all] [W: concluded.--Ah!] The plain construction is this: _It is wonder that the wits and life had not all ended_.

IV.vii.85-97 (466,9)

[_Gent_. Holds it true, Sir, That the duke of Cornwall was so slain?]

What is printed in crotchets is not in the folio. It is at least proper, if not necessary; and was omitted by the author, I suppose, for no other reason than to shorten the representation.

V.i.4 (467,2) his constant pleasure] His settled resolution.

V.i.54 (470,7) We will greet the time] We will be ready to meet the occasion.

V.i.61 (470,8) carry out my side] Bring my purpose to a successful issue, to completion. _Side_ seems here to have the sense of the French word _partie_, in _prendre partie, to take his resolution_.

V.i.68 (471,9) for my state/Stands on me to defend, not to debate] I do not think that _for_ stands in this place as a word of inference or causality. The meaning is rather: _Such is my determination concerning Lear_; _as_ for my state _it requires now, not_ deliberation, _but_ defence _and support_.

V.iii.16 (472,1) And take upon us the mystery of things,/As if we were God's spies] As if we were angels commissioned to survey and report the lives of men, and were consequently endowed with the power of prying into the original motives of action and the mysteries of conduct.

V.iii.18 (472,2) packs and sects] Packs is used for _combinations_ or _collection_, as is a _pack of cards_. For _sects_ I think _sets_ might be more commodiously read. So we say, _affairs are now managed by a new_ set. _Sect_, however, may well stand.

V.iii.24 (473,6) flesh and fell] Flesh and skin.

V.iii.54 (475,1)

[At this time We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend; And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd By those that feel their sharpness:-- The question of Cordelia, and her father, Requires a fitter place.]]

This passage, well worthy of restoration, is omitted in the folio.

V.iii.65 (475,4) The which immediacy] [_Immediacy_, for representation. WARBURTON.] _Immediacy_ is rather _supremacy_ in opposition to _subordination_, which has _quiddam medium_ between itself and power.

V.iii.79 (476,7) The lett alone lies not in your good will] Whether he shall not or shall depends not on your choice.

V.iii.89 (476,8) An interlude!] This short exclamation of Gonerill is added in the folio edition, I suppose, only to break the speech of Albany, that the exhibition on the stage might be more distinct and intelligible.

V.iii.129 (478,1) Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,/My oath, and my profession] The _privilege_ of this _oath_ means the privilege gained by taking the oath administered in the regular initiation of a knight professed.

V.iii.151 (479,3)

_Alb._ Save him, save him! _Gon._ This is mere practice, Glo'ster]

He desired that Edmund's life might be spared at present, only to obtain his confession, and to convict him openly by his own letter.

V.iii.166 (480,6) Let us exchange charity] Our author by negligence gives his heathens the sentiments and practices of Christianity. In _Hamlet_ there is the same solemn act of final reconciliation, but with exact propriety, for the personages are Christians.

V.iii. 204-221 (481,2) [Edg;.--This would have seem'd a period] The lines between crotchets are not in the folio.

V.iii.229 (433,4) Here comes Kent, Sir] The manner in which Edgar here mentions Kent, seems to require the lines which are inserted from the first edition in the foregoing scene.

V.iii.264 (485,7)

_Edg._ Or image of that horror? _Alb._ Fall, and cease!]

These two exclamations are given to Edgar and Albany in the folio, to animate the dialogue, and employ all the persons on the stage; but they are very obscure.

V.iii.301 (487,4) With boot] With advantage, with increase.

(488) General Observation. The tragedy of Lear is deservedly celebrated among the dramas of Shakespeare. There is perhaps no play which keeps the attention so strongly fixed; which so much agitates our passions and interests our curiosity. The artful involutions of distinct interests, the striking opposition of contrary characters, the sudden changes of fortune, and the quick succession of events, fill the mind with a perpetual tumult of indignation, pity, and hope. There is no scene which does not contribute to the aggravation of the distress or conduct of the action, and scarce a line which does not conduce to the progress of the scene. So powerful is the current of the poet's imagination, that the mind, which once ventures within it, is hurried irresistibly along.

On the seeming improbability of Lear's conduct it may be observed, that he is represented according to histories at that time vulgarly received as true. And, perhaps, if we turn our thoughts upon the barbarity and ignorance of the age to which this story is referred, it will appear not so unlikely as while we estimate Lear's manners by our own. Such preference of one daughter to another, or resignation of dominion on such conditions, would be yet credible, if told of a petty prince of Guinea or Madagascar. Shakespeare, indeed, by the mention of his earls and dukes, has given us the idea of times more civilized, and of life regulated by softer manners; and the truth is, that though he so nicely discriminates, and so minutely describes the characters of men, he commonly neglects and confounds the characters of ages, by mingling customs ancient and modern, English and foreign.

My learned friend Mr. Warton, who has in the _Adventurer_ very minutely criticised this play, remarks, that the instances of cruelty are too savage and shocking, and that the intervention of Edmund destroys the simplicity of the story. These objections may, I think, be answered, by repeating, that the cruelty of the daughters is an historical fact, to which the poet has added little, having only drawn it into a series by dialogue and action. But I am not able to apologize with equal plausibility for the extrusion of Glo'ster's eyes, which seems an act too horrid to be endured in dramatic exhibition, and such as must always compel the mind to relieve its distress by incredulity. Yet let it be remembered that our author well knew what would please the audience for which he wrote.

The injury done by Edmund to the simplicity of the action is abundantly recompensed by the addition of variety, by the art with which he is made to co-operate with the chief design, and the opportunity which he gives the poet of combining perfidy with perfidy, and connecting the wicked son with the wicked daughters, to impress this important moral, that villainy is never at a stop, that crimes lead to crimes, and at last terminate in ruin.

But though this moral be incidentally enforced, Shakespeare has suffered the virtue of Cordelia to perish in a just cause, contrary to the natural ideas of justice, to the hope of the reader, and, what is yet more strange, to the faith of chronicles. Yet this conduct is justified by _The Spectator_, who blames Tate for giving Cordelia success and happiness in his alteration, and declares, that, in his opinion, _the tragedy has lost half its beauty_. Dennis has remarked, whether justly or not, that, to secure the favourable reception of _Cato, the town was poisoned with much false and abominable criticism_, and that endeavours had been used to discredit and decry poetical justice. A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life: but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or, that if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue.

In the present case the public has decided. Cordelia, from the time of Tate, has always retired with victory and felicity. And, if my sensations could add any thing to the general suffrage, I night relate, I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor.

There is another controversy among the critics concerning this play. It is disputed whether the predominant image in Lear's disordered mind be the loss of his kingdom or the cruelty of his daughters. Mr. Murphy, a very judicious critic, has evinced by induction of particular passages, that the cruelty of his daughters is the primary source of his distress, and that the loss of royalty affects him only as a secondary and subordinate evil. He observes with great justness, that Lear would move our compassion but little, did we not rather consider the injured father than the degraded king.

The story of this play, except the episode of Edmund, which is derived, I think, from Sidney, is taken originally from Geoffry of Monmouth, whom Hollinshed generally copied; but perhaps immediately from an old historical ballad. My reason for believing that the play was posterior to the ballad, rather than the ballad to the play, is, that the ballad has nothing of Shakespeare's nocturnal tempest, which is too striking to have been omitted, and that it follows the chronicle; it has the rudiments of the play, but none of its amplifications: it first hinted Lear's madness, but did not array it in circumstances. The writer of the ballad added something to the history, which is a proof that he would have added more, if more had occurred to his mind, and more must have occurred if he had seen Shakespeare. [Johnson appends "A lamentable SONG of the Death of King Leir and his Three Daughters"]

Vol. I

ROMEO AND JULIET

I.i.82 (9,7) Give me my long sword] The _long sword_ was the sword used in war, which was sometimes wielded with both hands.

I.i.158 (11,2)

As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the same]

I cannot but suspect that some lines are lost, which connected this simile more closely with the foregoing speech; these lines, if such there were, lamented the danger that Romeo will die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities were known to the world.

I.i.176 (12,3)

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see path-ways to his will.]

Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read, to his _ill_. The present reading has some obscurity; the meaning may be, that _love_ finds out means to pursue his _desire_. That the _blind_ should _find paths to ill_ is no great wonder.

I.i.183 (13,4) O brawling love! O loving hate!] Of these lines neither the sense nor occasion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an eneny, and to love one and hate another is no such uncommon state, as can deserve all this toil of antithesis.

I.i.192 (14,5) Why, such is love's transgression] Such is the consequence of unskilful and mistaken kindness. (see 1765, VIII, 12, 2)

1.1.198 (14,6) Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes] The author may mean _being purged of smoke_, but it is perhaps a meaning never given to the word in any other place. I would rather read, _Being_ urged, _a fire sparkling_. Being excited and inforced. To _urge_ the fire is the technical term.

I.i.199 (14,7) Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears] As this line stands single, it is likely that the foregoing or following line that rhym'd to it, is lost.

I.i.206 (14,8) Tell me in sadness] That is, tell me _gravely_, tell me in _seriousness_.

I.i.217 (15,1) in strong proof] In chastity _of proof_, as we say in armour _of proof_.

I.i.222 (15,2)

O, she is rich in beauty; only poor That when she dies, with beauty dies her store]

Mr. Theobald reads, "_With_ her dies beauties _store_;" and is followed by the two succeeding editors. I have replaced the old reading, because I think it at least as plausible as the correction. _She is rich_, says he, _in beauty_, and _only poor_ in being subject to the lot of humanity, that _her store_, or riches, _can be destroyed by death_, who shall, by the same blow, put an end to beauty.

I.ii.15 (17,2) She is the hopeful lady of my earth] _The lady of his earth_ is an expression not very intelligible, unless he means that she is heir to his estate, and I suppose no man ever called his lands his earth. I will venture to propose a bold change:

She is the hope _and stay_ of my _full years_.

I.ii.25 (18,3) Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light] [W: dark even] But why nonsense [Warburton's comment]? Is any thing mere commonly said, than that beauties eclipse the sun? Has not Pope the thought and the word?

"Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray, "And spe'd those eyes that must _eclipse the day_."

Both the old and the new reading are philosophical nonsense, but they are both, and both equally poetical sense.

I.ii.26 (18,4) Such comfort as do lusty young men feel] To say, and to say in pompous words, that a _young man shall feel_ as much in an assembly of beauties, _as young men feel in the month of April_, is surely to waste sound upon a very poor sentiment. I read,

Such comfort as do lusty _yeomen_ feel.