(jfornell Iniocraitg iCihtarg ilttjaca. S^eta ^atk BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PR3071.P451886 Hard knots In Shakespeare. 3 1924 013 164 573 'PR Son I /rrc The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013164573 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE SIR PHILIP PEEEING, BABT., FOBMBBLT SCHOLAR OF TEINITT COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. All difdcultiea are but easy, when they are known. 'Measure For Measure,' Act IV. 2. 221. SECOND EDITION, ENLARGED. LONDON : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO. 1886. Si PEEFACE* This little work, which I have ventured to commit to the press, treats of a very small portion of a very large subject. It cannot pretend to be much more than a supplement, or appendix, to the numerous publications which have been issued from time to time on the text, the sense, the language, the style, the spirit, the whole life and character of Shake- speare. My object has been not to do over again work which has already been sufficiently well done, but to endeavour to throw new light on what I conceive to have been misunderstood by previous expositors, and to explain, or emend, certain passages, where, according to the Cambridge editors, ' the original text has been corrupted in such a way as to affect the sense, no admissible emendation having been proposed,' or where ' a lacuna occurs too great to be filled up with any approach to certainty.' IV PBEFACB. Whether I have succeeded in reclaiming any of these waste patches, abandoned by others as uncultivable, can only be ascertained by ocular observation. It is true that I have not examined a single impression of either Folio or Quarto, but I have followed the trustworthy guidance of the editors of the ' Cambridge Shakespeare,' in the footnotes of which the various readings of the original copies are set down with conscientious accuracy. To this extent, then, I have been a borrower ; but I have not borrowed my ideas, my interpretations, my argu- ments, my matter generally. If, as has sometimes happened, I have occupied ground which some one else had occupied before me, I can only say that, at the time that I appropriated it, I was not aware that another possessed it. Even my quotations and references I have not fetched from a Concordance, but have myself culled them after carefully con- sidering them. The ' Globe ' Shakespeare has been my text-book, partly because, coming from Cambridge, it would seem to carry with it a Collegiate, not to say, a University recommendation, partly because it was convenient for reference, the lines in it being numbered. I have taken, as I was bound to do, the utmost pains with every one of my papers, caring less for form than for substance, and aiming not so much at PREFACE V fine writing, as at fair argument and the discovery of the truth — not but that I have eildeavoured, where I could, and as far as I could, to give some sort of shape and polish to my rough and unattractive materials. I have been encouraged and assisted in my labours by two of my friends, who have taken an interest in the progress of my work, and to whom I now record my heart-felt thanks ; they must not be held responsible for any of my opinions, yet their sound judgment and kind counsel have saved me from many doubtful, and from some dangerous positions. P. P. EXMOUTH. March, 1885. Vll PEEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. From the favourable reception accorded to the first edition of this work, I may reasonably presume, that it has been regarded as a fair and honest attempt to unravel some of the intricacies, and even to repair some of the ruinous places, in the plays of Shakespeare. I have enlarged the volume 'by adding papers on ' The Merry Wives of Windsor, ' ' Much Ado About Nothing,' * Love's Labour's Lost,' 'Troilus and Cressida,' 'Romeo and Juhet,' and ' Othello.' Fresh light has been thrown on a passage in ' The Tempest,' Act III. 1., and on one in ' The Taming of the Shrew,' Act I. 2. To 'King John', •Julius Caesar,' and ' Hamlet,' slight additions have been made. Throughout the book, the several passages commented on have been recorded in the margin for facility of reference. With these augmentations and improvements, the work is once more offered to the Public. P. P. EXMOUTH. September, 1886. IX CONTENTS. PAGE. THE TEMPEST 1—21. Act I. Sc. 1. 66-68; So. 2. 26-32, 53, 172-71, 306-307, 376-386, 486-491. Act 11. Sc. 1. 130-131 ; Sc. 2, 15-16. Act III. Sc. 1. 15 ; Sc. 3. 49-51. Act IV. Sc. 1. 61, 164. THE TWO GEXTLEMEX OF VEBOXA 22—36. Act II. Sc. 5. 2. Act III. So. 1. 81. Act V. Sc. 4. 82-83, 129. THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR 37—52. Act I. Sc. 1. 21, 46 i Sc. 3. 111. Act II. Sc. 1, 52, 148, 224, 228. ActV. Sc. 5. 111. MEASURE FOR MEASURE 53—70. Act I. So. 1. 8-9 ; So. 2. 125 | Sc. 3. 20, 42^3 ; So. 4. 30. Aot II. So. 1. 37-40. Act III. Sc. 1. 126.128 ; Sc. 2. 275-96. THE COMEDY OF ERRORS - 71—85. Act I. Sc. 1. 37-39 ; Sc. 2. 35-38. Act II. So. 1. 103-115. Act IV. So. 1. 98 ; Sc. 3. 12-20. Act V. Sc. 1. 405-406. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING 86—92. Act III. Sc. 1. 74. Act IV. So. 1. 157-159. Act V. Sc. 1. 16. X CONTENTS. 7. LOVrS LABOUR'S LOST 93—108. Act in. So. 1. 74. Act IV. Sc. 1, 69 ; So. 3. 180. Act V. Sc. 1. 28, 31, 100-106; Sc. 2. 62-68, 123, 297, 517, 547 ; 750-754. 8. A MIDSUMMER-NIGHTS DREAM 109—118. Act II. So. 1. 54. Act III. Sc. 2. 14. Act IV. Sc. 1. 150-163. Act V. So. 1. 66-60, 93. 9. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 119—130. Actl.Sc. 1. 35. Act II. Sc. 7. 69. Act III. Sc. 2. 97-99, 160-167 ; Sc. 3. 26-29 ; Sc. 5, 78-83. Act IV. Sc. 1. 50, 379. 10. AS YOU LIKE IT 131—140. Act I. Sc. 1. 1-5. Act II. Sc. 4. 1 ; Sc. 7. 53-,W, 71-74, Act III. Sc. 2, 206-207 ; Sc. 7, 53-57, 71-74. Act III. Sc. 2. 206-207 ; Sc. 5. 7, 23. Act V. So. 4. 4. 11. THE TAMING OF THE SHREW 141—149. Induction. Sc. I. 17, 64. Act I. Sc. 2. 6-7, 28-31. Act III. Sc. 2. 16. Act IV. So. 2. 59-62. 12. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 1.50—167. Act I. So. 1. 179, 237-241 ; Sc. 2. 31-45 ; Sc. 3. 141. Act II. So. 1. 3, 27, 175-177 ; Sc. 5. 52. Act IV. So. 1. 17-21 ; So, 2. 38 ; So, 4' 30-33. Act V. So. 3. 6, 66, 216. 13. TWELFTH NIGHT : OR WHAT YOU WILL .. 168—173. Act II. Sc. 5. 71. Act III, So. 3. 13-16 ; So. 4. 86-91. Act IV. So. 1. 14-lfi. CONTENTS . XI 14. THE WINTER'S TALE 174—186. Act I. Sc. 2. 273-276, 324, 467-460. Act II. Sc. 1. 133-136, 143. Act III. Sc. 2. 60-62. Act rV. Sc. 3. 98 ; Sc. 4. 250, 590-592, 760. Act V. So. 1. 55-60. 15. KING JOHN 187—199. Act II. Sc. 1. 183-190. Act III. Sc. 1. 259, 263-297 ; Sc. 2. 5 ; Sc. 3. 39. Act IV. Sc. 2. 40-43. AotV. Sc. 6.12; So. 7. 15-17. 16. KING RICHARD II 200—207. Act I. Sc. 2. 67-70 ; Sc. 3. 127-128. Act II. So. 1. 246-248 ; So. 2. 39-40, 108:114. Act HI. Sc. 2. 175-177. Act V. So. 1. 25. 17. KING HENRY IV 208—224. First Paet. Act I. So. 1. 5-6. Act IV. So. 1. 31. Act V. So. 2. 8, 77-79. Second Part. Act I. Sc. 3. 36-37. Act IV. Sc. 1. 50, 88-96. 18. KING HENRY V 225—237. Act I. Sc. 2. 91-95, 125-127, 273-275, Act II. So. 2. 138-140. Act III. So. 3. 35. AotlV. So. 1.262. 19. KING HENRY VI 238—250. First Part. Act I. Sc. 1. 56, 62. Act rV. So. 6. 42-47. Act V. So. 3. 70-71, 193 ; So. 5. 64. Secokd Part. Act I. Sc. 3. 153. Act II. Sc. 1. 26. Act IV. Sc. 10. 56. Third Part. Act I. See. 4. 152-153. XU CONTENTS. 20. KINO BICEARD III 251—257. Act I. 8c, 2. 6i, 101-103 ; Sc. 3. 62-69, 113, 188. Act III. Sc. 3. 28. Act y. Sc. 3. 173 ; Sc. 6. 23-31. 21. KING HENRY VIII 258—269. Act I. So. 1. 63, 75-80, 204-207, 222-226. Act II. So. 2. 92-98 ; Sc. 3. 46. Act III. So. 2. 62-71, 190-192, 383. Act T. Sc. 3. 1-2, 10-12, 108, 130. 22. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA 270—284. Prologue. Line 31. Act I. So. 3. 54. Act II. So. 3. 141-147. Act III. Sc. 2. 210 ; Sc. 3. 4, 30. Act IV. Sc. 4. 99 ; Sc. 5. 59, 103. Act V. Sc. 3. 19-22. 23. CORIOLANTIS 285—315. Act I. Sc. 1. 195-198, 262 ; Sc. 3. 46 ; So. 4. 31 ; Sc. 6. 76,80-85; So. 9. 41-46. Act III. Sc. 1. 131, 189-191 ; Sc. 2. 29, 52-80, 123-128; Sc. 8. 130. Act IV. Sc. 3. 9 ; 6. 2-3 ; So. 7. 28-57. Act V. Sc. 1. 16-17, 65-73 ; Sc. 2. 17. ^24. TITUS ANDRONICUS 316—824, Act II. Sc. 3. 126. Act III. So. 1. 170, 282. Act IV. So. 1. 129 ; So. 2. 152, 177-178. AotV. So. 1. 182; Sc. 3.124. 25. ROMEO AND JULIET 325—336 Act I. So. 2. 15, 32-33 ; Sc.4. 40-45, Act II. So. .2. 39 ; So. 5. 15. Act III. Sc. 2. 6 ; Sc. 5. 177, 178. ActV. Sc. 1. 1. 26. TIMON OF ATHENS 337—354. Act I. Sc. 1. 235-241 ; Sc. 2. 73. Act III. So. 2. 43 ; 6. 89. Act IV. Sc. 3. 133-134, 223. Act V, So. 2. 6-9 ; Sc. 3. 1-10 ; So, 4. 62. CONTENTS. Xlll 27. JULIUS CJESAB 355—369. Act I. Sc. 2. 165 ; So. 3. 62-65, 129. Act II. 1. 16. Act III. Sc. 1. 174, 206, 262. Act IV. Sc. 1. 86-39 ; Sc. 2, 49-52. Act V. So. 1. 35. 28. MACBETS 370—393. Act I. Sc. 2. 14, 16-23, 49, 58 ; Sc. 8. 95-98 ; So. 6. 23-26. Act II, Sc, 1. 25, 55. Act III. Sc. 1. 130 ; So. 4. 32, 105, 132. Act IV. Sc. 2. 18-22 ; Sc. 3. 15, 136-137. Act V.^c. 8. 21 ; Sc. 4. 11. 29. HAMLET 394—406. Act I. Sc. 1. 113-125 ; So. 3. 73-74 ; Sc, 4. 86-38. Aotlll.So. 4. 169. Act V. Sc. 1. 68 I Sc. 2. 39-42, 118. 30. KINO LEAR 407-422. Act I. Sc. 2. 17-22 ; So. 3. 18-20. Act 11. Sc. 2. 175-177 ; Sc. 4, 165, 273-274. Act IV. Sc. 1. 71 ; Sc. 2. 57 ; Sc. 3. 20-21, 33. Act V. Sc. 3. 129-130, 204-207. 31. OTSELLO 423—434. Act I. Sc. 1. 21 ; Sc. 3. 262-263. Actll, Sc. 1. 65. Act in. Sc. 3. 467-469 ; Sc. 4. 121. Act IV. So. 2. 55-56. 32. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA 435—443. Act I. Sc. 6, 28, 48, Act II. So. 2. 53. Act III. So. 11. 47 ; So. 13. 10. Act V. Sc. 1. 15 ; So. 2. 355. 33. CTMBELINE 444—454. Act III. Sc. 3.23 ; So. 4. 51-52, 135, 150. Act IV. Sc. 2. 7-9, 16-17. Act V. Sc. 1. 14- 5 ; So. 5. 95. XIV CONTENTS. 34. PERICLES 455—470, Act I. Sc. 1. 17 ; So. 2. 1-5, 74 ; So. S. 28. Act II. Sc. 1. 56-60. Act III. Sc. 1. 63 ; Sc. 2. 65. Act IV. Sc. 1. 11. Act V. Prologue, 23 ; Sc. 1. 174, 209. 35. A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 241, 271 471-472. INDEX 473—477. % > 'ir^ ^ fcri' ^ ^ THE TEMPEST. " rpHE Tempest " was printed for the first time in the Folio of 1623. There is no earlier edition of it extant in Quarto, as is the case in more than one half of the thirty-six plays. What does this mean ? It means that, if there should happen to be any errors in the text of the play as it has been set down in the Folio, made I will not suppose by the author, but by the author's friends or by those who were employed by them to^oopy and print his works, we have no means of correcting those errors or of recovering the true original reading, because we have no second independent authority to fall back upon — no well-authenticated reserve testimony to appeal to; the staff upon which we leaned fails us ; the candle which lighted us leaves us in the Hark. There is no help for it but to acquiesce in the irremediable, and register in each successive edition the blunders of the Foho. To be sure, there are the various conjectural emendations of learned men, but of these, though some are plausible and clever and even more or less probable, by far the larger number are wild and extravagant, almost all are precarious and uncertain. A HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. It would seem, then, as if the critic might throw aside his pen for all the good that he would be likely io do. Such, however, is very far fr.om being the case. In almost every play of Shakespeare there are a number of passages, where, either because a word occurs which is unexampled in its use or strange and singular in its meaning, or because a sentence is interrupted and apparently unfinished, or because the sense is not easily discernible and perhaps differs from what might have been expected, or because the versification seems irregular or inharmonious, or because there is a possibility, so tempting to the brilliant critic, of some other word having been used in the original, for which the one that has been set down in the copy might easily have been mistaken, the purity of the text is arraigned, and emendations are started and sometimes introduced ; yet in most cases I think it will be found that objections have been raised by an over-hasty criticism on wholly insufficient grounds, and that they crumble away and come to nothing when all the circumstances are considered which should be considered — the extraor- dinary variety of idiom which pervades the English language ; the peculiar character of pieces intended for theatrical representation ; the informality, elastic- ity, and frequent ellipses of common conversation; the licence which the poet's age allowed him, the licence .which the poet — a master linguist, an Englishman THE TEMPEST. 3 to the core — allowed himself, to say nothing of the special circumstances of particular passages ; so that, even though we should not care to do as others do and take a shot now and then at a venture, we shall have enough to occupy us, while we strive to defend Shakespeare's text from faulty emendation or fallacious interpretation. I could not, if I wished it, give a more striking Act i. i. example of the narrow boundary which sometimes ''^' separates the true and the false, and of the difficulty at times of coming to a decision, than is afforded by a passage in the ' Tempest ' at the very end of the first Scene — Act I. 1. 68-70 — where Gonzalo, in imminent peril of momentary shipwreck, cries Now would I give a thousand fusJongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, anything. This Hanmer by a masterly stroke of critical cunning converted to ' ling, heath, broom, furze, anything,' and the Cambridge editor has signified his approval of the change by introducing it into the ' Clarendon Press Series' edition, no doubt considering the Folio reading poor and unnatural. Yet it is not impossible that those common epithets, which Mr. Knight held to be ' quite intelligible and much more natural than an enumeration of various wild plants'— the epithet ' long ' applied to the heath (and there is, I believe, a kind of long-growing heath in that part of the world to which Gonzalo 's thoughts would naturally 4 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. revert), and the epithet ' brown ' applied to the furze (and there are times when the furze looks poor and shabby), were intended to keep up the idea of the barrenness of the acre which Gonzalo coveted, lest, associating with the heath its beautiful delicate purple hue, and with the gorse its rich golden glory, we should have presented to our eye a picture not of a bare uninteresting spot, but of a landscape full of beauty and bloom. The Folio reading best describes the poverty of the ground, and on that account best represents Gonzalo's pauper cravings. Act I. 2. 26- But, whatever view we may be disposed to take of this passage, after we have heard what the naturalist, the traveller, the critic, have to say on the subject, there ought not to be a shadow of doubt that the reading of the Folio is not only right, but cannot be bettered, in Act I. 2. 26-32, where Prospero, addressing Miranda, says The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art So safely ordered that there is no soul — No, not so much perdition as an hair Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink ; yet Mr. Aldis Wright, who, we freely acknowledge, has done good service as a Shakespearian comment- ator, here tells us that there is ' some imperfection 32. THE TEMPEST. 5 in the text,' and that Rowe would read ' no soul lost,' and that others would change 'soul' to 'loss,' or 'soil,' or 'foil.' I feel sure that the learned expositor cannot really approve of these miserable emendations ; I almost wonder that he should have thought it worth while to mention them at all. There is no imperfection whatever ; there is merely a change of construction, and tliat not accidental, but deliberate and purposed. The ordinary con- struction would have been, ' There is no soul, no, not so much as a hair of any qf them lost '; but Prospero, wishing to give full prominence to the marvel, that there had been not anly no loss of life, but no loss of any kind whatsoever, breaks off after the words 'There is no soul,' as if, in saying no more than that, he had not said enough, and, after a moment's pause, as if deliberating how best to unfold the full extent of the wonder, he recommences with quite a new order of words and a more emphatic assurance, thus producing an effect far surpassing any which a more rigid adherence to grammatical accuracy could have produced. An irregularity like this — for an imperfection, I repeat, it is not — may displease those who look a little too much at the frame and mounting of the picture and not sufficiently at the picture itself, but it is a delightful surprise to those who contemplate the work as a whole and study the general effect ; it is instinct with animation and 6 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. life ; it is dramatically perfect ) we admire in it the luvoTy}^ of Shakespeare, thus to make Prospero command not only the elements, but also the grammar. Act 1. 2. 53. I have no wish to attempt to write a dissertation on the prosody of Shakespeare — a subject intolerable to all but a few of the most insatiable thirsters after knowledge — but, when we are told ex cathedra that a line must he scanned in one particular way, which quite consistently with Shakespearian usage admits of being scanned in no less than four different ways, I may be pardoned, if I digress for a moment to say just a passing word on such a dry subject as metre. I declare, then, that the 53rd line of Act I. Sc. 2. may be scanned in the following fourfold fashion — either thus. Twelve ye | ar since, | Miranda, | twelve ye | ar since, where 'year,' each time that it occurs, is tantamount to a dissyllable ; or thus. Twelve ye | ar since, | Miran | da, twelve | year since, where on one occasion only 'year' is used dissylla- bically ; or thus. Twelve | year since, | Miran | da, twelve | year since, where in the first instance only ' twelve ' is a dissyllable — either actually so, the letter w being of the nature of a vowel, or virtually so, because of the length of time which it is necessary to pause upon THE TEMPEST. 7 the word, in order to give it its full and proper emphasis ; or lastly thus, Twelve | year since, | Miranda, | twelve | year aince, where in both instances ' twelve' has a dissyllabic value. Seeing, then, that we have a right of way by four different roads, I protest against any attempt to interfere with or infringe this our fourfold liberty. From a question of prosody I pass to one of Act 1.2. 172- accidence in the same Act and Scene, lines 172-174, where in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare we find Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princesses can that have mpre time For vainer hours and tutors not so careful. But 'princesse' or 'princess' is the word -of the Folios; why, then, change to * princesses ' ? A plural noun, it will be said, is required; but, according to Sidney Walker's rule, "the plural of substantives ending in se, ss, ce, are found without the usual addition of s or es, in pronunciation at least, although in many instances the phiral suffix is added in printing, where the metre shows it is not to be pronounced." But here the plural suffix is not added, yet they add it; the metre, so far from requiring it, rejects it, yet notwithstanding they add it. He who in 'King Henry V,' Act V. 2. 28, did not scruple to write Your mightiness on both parts best can witness, where 'mightinesses ' would have been as ill-sounding as it would have been inconvenient, was content, I 8 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. cannot doubt, to write 'princess' here, where the plural termination is certainlytoot a metrical necessity. For my own part, I have a strong suspicion that there are more lines than this in Shakespeare, where the plural ending has been tacked on by the copyist, to the lengthening of the metre unnecessarily. Act 1. 2. 306- In Act I. 2. 306-307. we have an instance of what 307 I cannot but call injudicious annotation ; the Folio has the strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me. Yet the Cambridge editors would like to read ' strange heaviness in me ' ! Surely these learned men must have been drowsing. The accommodation of sound to sense, as it is generally caUed, is a .literary artifice perfectly familiar to all thfe great poets both of ancient and modern times. It would have been strange if Shakespeare had not occasionally availed himself of it in a species of composition in which of all others it is strikingly telling. He who admirably adapts both words and matter to the various characters whom he introduces, making a king speak like a king, a priest like a priest, a clown like a clown, sometimes also makes the words them- selves more expressive by the manner in which he arranges them — by the metrical value which he attaches to them : thus in the line in ' King Kichard III,' Act III. 7. 240, THE TEMPEST. 9 Long live Richard, England's royal king, as we pause upon * long,' we observe the length that the Reclaimers affected to wish for Eichard's reign, and at the same time we satisfy the metre ; again in the line in ' King Richard II,' Act I. §: 118, Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down, as we linger on the first word, we make the stay that the king commanded ; and so in the line which commences with that drowsy word ' Heaviness in me ' the poet admirably expresses the comatose feeling that had crept over Miranda under Prospero's magic charms, so that, even after the mighty wizard had bid her wake, we seem still to hear the magnetized maiden's sleepy tone. The rhythm here echoes the sense, I have hitherto in every instance without exception Act ^. 2. 376- stuck fast to the reading of the Folio, but I am now going to propose an alteration, not indeed in the words, but in the arrangement of the words, in Ariel's song. Act I. 2. 376-86, for which I must own I have neither Folio warrant nor commentators' authority, yet still, I fancy, sense and reason and probability in my favour. The song is thus set down in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare : 38G. 10 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Ariel's Song. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands : Courtsied when you have and kiss'd The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there ; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Burthen, [dispersedly.] Hark, hark ! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark ; Bow-wow. Ari. Hark, hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. Now was this the song as the author originally constructed and eventually left it? Was this his arrangement, this his termination of it ? Is it possible that the last line formed any part of it at all ? Has it not rather been tacked on by some transcriber or typographer, who either did not think or did not know what he was doing ? For my own part, I am not so surprised that it should have crept into the text, as that it should have been permitted so long to continue there ; that it should not have been challenged, should not even have been suspected, by a single one of the numerous critics, whose names figure in the footnotes of the 'Cambridge Shakespeare,' and who have not been backward with their offers of emendation in other parts of Shakespeare. Yet the oracles are dumb ; the vigilance of Theobald is THE TEMPEST. 11 eluded for once. For it is surely neither modern English, nor Shakespearian English, nor English at all — it exceeds even the large licence of poetry — to say ' I hear the strain of chanticleer cry' ! ' Strain of chanticleer ' is enough in all conscience ; ' cry ' added is needlessly — I had almost said, is nonsens- ically — added. It needs not, however, be obliterated ; it has a place proper to it, but not in the song ; it was in all probability a stage-direction ; had it been inclosed by brackets, the confusion would not have happened. ' Cock-a-diddle-dow' is the cry of the fowl, not the spirit's imitation of it. If it be objected that the bark of the watch-dogs is a part of the song, and that it is but reasonable that the crowing of the cock should be so too, I reply that the latratus caniim, both in the first and in the second instance, is as distinctly extra-metric as is the cry of chanticleer. And, as touching the rhyme, are we to suppose that the second 'Bow-wow' rhymes to the first and 'Cock-a-diddle-dow' to both? The couplet Hark, Hark ! The watch-dogs bark is complete in itself; to add 'Bow-wow' to each line is to disarrange both. Observe the latter part of the song J 12 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made ; Those are pearls that were his eyes ; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Burthen. Ding-dong. Ari. Hark ! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, bell. Here it is manifest that 'Ding-dong, bell' rhymes to 'knell.' The intermediate 'Ding-dong' has nothing whatever to rhyme to it. It is clearly extra metruni. Well then, this intermediate 'Ding-dong,' so distinctly extra-metric, justifies me in treating ' Bow- wow ' in a precisely similar manner. Grant this, and we have nothing for 'Cock-a-diddle-dow' to rhyme to, and, I may add, we luant nothing, if we arrange the passage thus : Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands ; Courtsied when you have arid kiss'd The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there. And, sweet' sprites, the burthen bear : Burthen, [disjoersedly.'\ Hark, hark ! [Bow-wow. The watch- dogs bark 1 [Bow-wow. Ariel. Hark, hark ! I hear The -strain of strutting chanticleer. [Cry. ' Cock-a-diddle-dow.' THE TEMPEST. 13 I shall in all probability be asked, whether I can produce a single parallel from any other portion of Shakespeare's works of such an extraordinary blunder having been committed. A second example, though it would not conclusively prove the correctness of my surmise, might at least show that it was not impossible, and perhaps in the eyes of some might even give it an air of probability. One such example, then, I am prepared to produce; those who are better acquainted with the Folios^ and Quartos than I can pretend to be will be able to supply other illustrations. Long after I had written my thoughts on the passage, my attention was drawn to a note in the 'Cambridge Shakespeare,' which informs us that in the Forester's song in 'As You Like it,' Act IV. 2. 11 — which, as it is printed in the Globe edition, commences thus. What shall he have that killed the deer ? His leather skin and horns to wear, Then sing him home ; [7%e rest shall tear this burden — the words ' Then sing him home, the rest shall bear this burthen ' are printed in the Folios as part of the song. Theobald first gave 'The rest shall bear this burden' as a stage-direction, whereas Knight, Collier, Dyce, take the whole to be a stage- direction. So then the mishap which I contend has befallen Ariel's song is neither without parallel nor destitute of credibility. 14 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act I. 2. 486- I proceed to dilate on another passage at the very end of Act I. Sc. 2. hnes 486-491, which is by no means unencumbered with difficulty. Ferdinand thus speaks, My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats To whom I am subdued, are but light to me. Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid. We seem here to be listening to a man who knows what he wants to say, but has a difficulty in saying it. His affirmations and his negations are at cross purposes ; he contradicts himself and confuses us. May not the poet have intended the confusion, in order to mark the change which all of a sudden had come over Ferdinand ? The magician had motioned with his wand, and the prince confesses that he is reduced to impotence : My spirits, as in a dream; are all bound up. "What wonder, if, thus spell-hound, his ideas, though upon the whole intelligible, are a little incoherently expressed; his language lacks its usual grammatical precision. His speech bewrkys him; he is not the man that he was. The poiet violates the law of grammar for the higher law of his art. From a man confused what can we expect but confused utterances ? This is quite as fair a way of dealing with the complication, as to say, as some do, that THE TEMPEST. 15 'nor' is a misprint for 'and' or for 'or,' or that Shakespeare forgat himself, and, after beginning to express himself in one way, ended by expressing himself in a totally different way. There is another solution, however, possible and some may think more probable. In most languages, the English language among others, it occasionally happens that, where the conjunctional expression 'neither .. nor' has place, the first negative is omitted, and has to be mentally supplied by the reader. Thus we have in '1 Henry VI,' Act I. 2. 142-43, Helen, the mother of great Constantine, Nor yet St. Philip's daughters, were like thee ; and in 'Cymbeline,' Act V. I. 28, And thus, unknown, Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril Myself I'll dedicate. Sometimes, though more rarely, but one negative is expressed, where ordinarily we should have three, as in ' A Lover's Complaint,' 264, Vow, bond, nor space, In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine ; Daniel, as quoted in Dr. Johnson '« Dictionary, Power, disgrace, nor death could aught avail This glorious tongue thus to reveal thy heart. Now let us suppose that in this passage in the ' Tempest ' we have an instance— a bold instance, if you like— of this undoubted English idiom. Whereas 16 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. a prose-writer would have said * neither my father's loss, nor the weakness which I feel, nor the wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats are but light ' —that is, are otherwise than light — ' to me,' the poet, availing himself of a known idiom, obscure enough to indicate that the person represented had lost his self-possession, but not so obscure as to leave the hearer in the dark as to the meaning intended to be conveyed, omits all but the last negative, the presence of which idiomatically excuses the absence of the rest. Seeing that Shakespeare frequently accumulates negatives where we should only allow one, it would not be surprising if he occasionally reverted to the opposite idiom, and were sometimes as parsimonious as he is at other times profuse. Act II. 1.130- There is a hitch, too, through the unexpected intervention of the preposition 'at,' in some lines spoken by Sebastian in Act II, I. 130-31, You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise By all of us, and the fair Soul herself Weigh'd between loathness and obedlience, at Which end o' the beam should bow. What would be more easy than to cut down this troublesome little word which stands in our way ? And this is exactly what some would do. But the fair and upright critic will refuse to resort to such a murderous proceeding, untjl at any rate he has THE TEMPEST. 17 assured himself that he has reason and justice on his side. In days gone by prepositions were frequently used where now we should not think of using them ; and those were selected for use which nowadays would not be selected. Such lines as I envy at their liberty, 'King John,' Act III. 4. 73; To have a godly peace concluded of, '1 Henry VI,' Act V. 1. 5 ; Let your highness Command upon me, 'Macbeth,' Act III. 1. 17; To whose sound chaste winds obey, ' The Phoenix and the Turtle ' ; would be rejected now as out of date and barbarous. And so in the ' Tempest ' a modem poet would have written ' To weigh which end o' the beam should bow,' but Shakespeare's age tolerated the interpolation of the preposition 'at,' upon which the noun- sentence ' which end o' the beam should bow ' depends. Thus the subject of the verb ' should bow ' is plainly * which end o' the beam;' and we must not be snared to understand ' she ' with Malone, or ' it ' with Mr. Aldis Wright, much less listen to the more violent proposals of less discreet critics. Every lout in the theatre in Shakespeare's day would have swallowed as a gnat what all the literati of later days have strained at as a camel. 18 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE, Act 11. 2. 15- Illiterate and brutal as Caliban was, I cannot think that there is mnch amiss with the language used by him in Act II. 2. 15, 16, Here comes a spirit of liis, and to torment me ' For bringing wood in slowly, where the Cambridge editors would substitute ' sent ' for 'and.' But the conjunction 'and' has a great variety of uses in the plays of Shakespeare— in the English language. Witness such passages as Act II. 1. 252, of this play, She that from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again, And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue ; where, by the way, Mr. Spedding, unable to tolerate the loose and inartistic but by no means impossible expression ' she that from whom,' had recourse to a change of punctuation, which, though it has been accepted by some editors, seems to me to be neither urgently needed nor likely to be correct ; also Act III. 8. 56, the never surfeited sea Hath caus'd to belch up you, and on this island ; 'Merry Wives of Windsor,' Act III. 5. 72-78, Master Brook comes ai^d at his heels a rabble... ««(?, forsooth, to search his house for his wife's love ; ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act II. I. 192, And here am I, and wode' within this wood. Caliban's 'and ' may very well be let alone. THE TEMPEST. 19 As touching Act III. 1. 15, where the first PoHo -A-ctiii. 1. 15. reads Most busy lest, when I doe it, the other FoHos having 'least' for 'lest,' the Camhriclge editors tell us that, as none of the proposed emendations can be regarde'd as certain, they have left the reading of the first Folio, though it is nianifestly corrupt. And I, too, at one time thought that the text must surely have been imperfectly executed, but I am no longer now of that opinion. The two superlatives, ' most busy ' and 'least,' are ranged alongside of 'each other for antithesis' sake, unihout, however, being syntactically connected with the same noun, ' most busy*' referring to ' me ' which is contained in the possessive pronoun ' my ' or (if you like) to the possessive case ' my,' 'least' to the noun 'labours.' Ferdinand says, ' These sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, which labours, for all that I am superlatively busy, are least laborious, when I am actually engaged in them.' His is a maximum of business with a minimum of toil ; the thought of Miranda sweetens the aloes of his task. Compare ' Macbeth,' Act IV. 3. 209, The labour we delight in physics .pain. For an example of the use of a singular pronoun referring to a plural noun, see ' Love's Labour's Lost,' Act I. 1. 23, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep «Y too. 20 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Is it necessary that I should show how the line should be scanned ? See here then : Most busy I least when | I do it [ Alas | now pray you. So then the words are grammatically correct, are masterly arranged, are pregnant with meaning, are pithy and to the point ; while' as for the metre of the line, it has such an easy and natural flow, that no one can flounder in it, save those who have never fathomed the depths of Prosody generally, nor taken the soundings of Shakespearian versification. The only change which is required is the insertion of a comma after ' most busy.' Aotin.3.J9- Is it a mere accident that by a slightly different arrangement in Act III. 3. 49-51 we can secure a rhyming couplet ? * I will stand to and feed, altliougli my last : No matter, since I feel the best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke, stand to, and do as we. But we need not be punctilious about what is rather a question of form than of matter. Act IV. 1. 61. Before I leave the troubled waters of the ' Tempest,' I will just let down the sounding line at Act IV. 1. 61, where two epithets have caused no little agitation : but may not Thy banks with pioned arid tioilled brims be the poet's way of describing a neat and well made hedge? If, as Henley thought, 'pioned' refers to * I find that this has been already noticed by Mason. THE TEMPEST. 21 the digging and facing— and the opinion should not have been received with such scorn by some— ' twilled' may well refer to the ordering and interlacing the branches along the hedge. The reverse of the picture we have in 'King Henry V,' Act V. 2. 42-44, lier hedges even-pleacli'd, Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put forth disorder'd twigs. A comparison between the two passages presented in parallel columns, if it does not confirm, will not invalidate, the interpretation which I have suggested. 'THE TEMPEST.' 'KING HENRY -^ 1. rich leas 1. vineyards 2. turfy mountains 2. hedges even-pleach' d 3. flat meads 3. falloiv leas 4. lanlcs tvith pioned and twilled hrims 4. even meads 5. broom groves 6. pole-dipt vineyards 7. sea-marge In the 164th line of this same Scene Theobald was Activ.i.ic4. in all probability right, when he proposed to read Come with a thought. I thank you :■ — ^i^riel, come. Even if we do not change 'thee' into 'you' as he did, we should certainly punctuate as he did, in which case 'thee' must be taken as referring to Ferdinand only. 22 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. The difficulties which confront ns in ' The Two Grentlemen of Verona' are for the most part of a geographical character, and they are of such exceptional magnitude that they have baffled every effort which has been made hitherto to bring them into harmony with the rest of the play. Having recently made a fresh attempt to explore them, I propose to state as succinctly as I jcan the results of my observations, and I shall leave it to those who are competent judges to say how fas I have succeeded in breaking the ice and opening a tract which may be safely followed by future investigators. There are three well-known passages where the obstacles to progress are seemingly insurmountable. In Act II. 5. 2. Speed welcomes Launce to Padua, when there is not a doubt that they were both in Milan. In Act III. 1. 81. the Duke of Milan, while con- versing with Valentine in Milan, speaks of a lady in 'Verona here.' THE TWO GENTLEMEN Ot' VERONA. 23 In Act V. 4. 129. Valentine declares to Tlmrio, who was a citizen of Milan, that, if once again he laid claim to Silvia, Verona should not hold him, whereas it is thought that he should have said that Milan should not. What are we to make of these seeming contra- dictions ? Are we to say that they are errors ? aud, if errors, errors of the copyist, or errors of the author ? or, if not errors, how are we to explain them ? Choose which line of defence we will, we shall have enough to do to make good our position. Let us suppose that a transcriber made the first- mentioned blunder— that he set down Padua, when Milan was black as ink before his face : is it likely that he would have made two more geographical blunders in a play, in the rest of which he has done his work upon the whole so exceedingly well, that he has left the critics hardly any thing to fight about ? We should have expected either more accuracy in the topography, or less accuracy in the other matter. We will suppose, however, that geography was a weak point of his ; the worst part of the tangle yet remains ; he could not have madp the second and the third errors without deliberately tampering with the text, Milan and Verona not being metrically interchangeable. Now to alter a line, or to make a fresh one, is not a thing to be done oifhand ; at any 24 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. rate it is not exactly the task that we should imagine that a copyist would without any apparent object set himself. And yet in this case we are asked to believe that in two separate instances he has either altered the original line, or composed a fresh one, and that he iias done it so capitally, that, but for the bad geography, we should not have known that the lines were not Shakespeare's own. I cannot believe that a copyist would have attempted any such thing, or that if he attempted it, he would so well have executed it. A simpleton would not have left us such good lines ; a prudent and careful copyist should not have left such bad geography. Patchwork is usually easily discoverable. It is not easy to detect it here. I reject, therefore, the theory, that the mistakes, if mistakes they are, were made, at least all of them, in the copying or the printing. Were they, then, made by the author ? This seems to me to be even more improbable. It is true that Shakespeare has not been always accurate in his geography, but he has not been inconsistent in his inaccuracy ; he has not in one $nd the same play contradicted himself ; he has not, for example, in one Act made Bohemia an inland, in another Act a mari- time coimtry. This I contend that a dramatist of Shakespeare's brilliant genius, comprehensive know- ledge, marvellous general accuracy, and uncommon power, could not have done. To geographical THE TWO GENTLEMEN OP VERONA. 25 accuracy a dramatist is not bound ; to geographical consistency he is. This distinction it is essential to bear in mind. If, then, the names of places set down in the passages I have indicated in the 3rd and in the 6th Acts of ' The Two Gentlemen of Verona' were set down by Shakespeare, depend upon it, they admit of being explained. We will suppose, however, that Shakespeare set them down, and set them down by mistake — that he overlooked two glaring contra- dictions in the composition, in the transcription, in the rehearsals, in the representation of the play. He lived in an age, which, so to speak, was dramatically educated. Among his audience were many who were intelligent, many who were able to criticize — some who were disposed to be captious and censorious. Were there none among the actors, were there not many among the playgoers, sharp enough to detect at once such palpable incongruities ? Say they passed one night ; could they have passed night after night ? Would not some friend have whispered them ? some enemy have noised them abroad ? Shakespeare corrected, revised, recast many of his plays ; would he have left blots such as these, if he had made them? Where else in any single play of his can we find such dramatic impossibilities ? These are egregious errors : err Shakespeare might, but not to the extent that these errors would imply. And, if the play had been a very complicated one, if there had 26 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. been a constant shifting of the scene to a number of different places, we might have allowed for a slight lapse or two, though hardly then for three serious blunders ; but, when the play is so extremely simple, and the scenes are laid, if we exclude the forest scene, in two places, and two places only, namely Milan and Verona, no one who was not either very stupid, or habitually careless, could have gone so far out of the way. In every other portion of the play the topography is just as it should be : where Milan should be, there we have Milan ; where Yerona, there Verona. The author's general geographical accuracy forbids us to believe that he faltered in these three particular instances. A skilful composer could not leave in a piece of music three discordant notes. Is it possible, then, that these so-called blunders may not, save perhaps one of them, be blunders at all, but correct copies from the author's correct MS. ? For to this corner we are now driven, and it would seem to be our last and only standing-ground. Act II. 5. 2, I acknowledge that I am not prepared to defend the first geographical inaccuracy. If Speed's ' Welcome to Padua ' were executed by Shakespeare, I am positive that it would adpiit of being explained somehow ; but the only explanation that I can conceive possible is that, the moment Speed saw THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. 27 Launce, he began to play the fool, shouting out the name of a city in the very opposite direction to that to which they had come, viz. Padua which lay to the East, rather than Milan which lay to the West of Verona ; to which Launce paid no manner of heed, being too much taken up with a thought of a visit to the tavern at Speed's expense. It is even just possible that Padua was lugged in .for the sake of an execrable pun on the word, to which Launce promptly responded, when he claimed that ' certain shot should be paid.' I do not, however, really believe that Padua ever blotted the author's MS. ; I believe it to have been an after-insertion by another hand ; I pronounce it a gross blunder. It may be accounted for in this way. Launce no sooner heard the word ' Welcome ' drop from Speed's lips, than without giving him time to utter a syllable more, if at least he intended to utter more, he took him up smartly, cavilling at a word which had no mean- ing to him, unless it were accompanied with the rattle of ale-glasses. The passage , then, I take it, originally stood thus, ' Launce, by mine honesty ! welcome,' or, ' welcome to — .' The name of the place was purposely omitted; but those who took upon them to revise Shakespeare's plays could not understand the reason of the omission ; they filled up the void, but filled it up badly, inserting Padua, when they should have inserted Milan. Why they 28 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. should have inserted Padua, which is not so much as once mentioned in the play, we can only conjecture. Perhaps the learned dons had in their minds the famous university of Padua, whither they fancied at the moment that the young Italians had come to pursue their studies ; perhaps Verona and Padua were so intimately associated in their minds from their occurring repeatedly in ' The Taming Of The Shrew,' that they made Valentine here, as Petrucchio there, come from Verona to Padua, rather than, as they should have done, from Verona to Milan ; perhaps it was a mere fit of mental absence, for which, however, we must not hold either the transcriber or the printer, much less the author, responsible. Act III. 1.81. Having thus obliterated the first of the topo- graphical difficulties, I proceed to an examination of the second, which is much more pronounced and enigmatical ; for it is interwoven with the metre ; it holds its place easily and as it were by right. Yet how is it possible that it can be right ? The Duke of Milan, speaking to Valentine, evidently in Milan, says There is a lady in Verbna here ! Did the Duke mean that therfe was a Veronese lady sojourning in Milan ? or that the lady dwelt in a Veronese quarter of the city ? But neither of these explanations will be accepted as satisfactory. Did THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. 29 he, then, lest haply he should arouse too early Valentine's suspicions, and so defeat his own object, which was first to blind, and then to trap him, put the case hypothetically, so far as the place loas concerned ; just as sometimes we, not caring to particularize the place which we have in our mindjS, substitute for it for the nonce some other place — -' let us call it,' we say, ' Paris, or Berlin, or Vienna, any place you like ' — and so the Duke, affecting to ask Valentine's advice in his imaginary love-fix, put the case hypothetically — if it were Verana, what would Valentine do ? There might have been deep and crafty policy in laying the scene at Verona ; for, if Valentine had scented danger, he rtiight have pleaded inability to give an opinion as to what had best be done in a city in which he was a comparative stranger ; his own native place being chosen, he had no alternative but to walk straight to the pit into which he fell. In a got-up story, in which, so far as the Duke was concerned, there was not an atom of truth from beginning to end, and the object of which was, at any rate in the first instance, to throw dust into the eyes of Valentine, some allowance may be made for a certain amount of unreahty— of mystification. But I have yet another, and, if I am not mistaken, a stronger string to my bow. At any rate the view 30 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. of the matter which I am now about to put forward is entitled to consideration. Just after the Duke had been informed by Proteus of Valentine's intended elopement, he espied Valentine hurrying away as fast as he could ; on his asking him the object of his haste, Valentine replied that he merely wanted to dispatch a letter of no great importance to his friends in Verona. A letter he had in his possession sure enough, and anxious enough he was that it should be safely delivered ; hut his Verona was situated near the very spot that he was then treading with his feet; it Ivas in the Duke's palace in Milan ; it was (to use now the Duke's own words) ' in Verona here;' and the friend to whom the letter was addressed was a lady in that same pseudo-Verona; it was no other than Silvia, the Duke's own daughter. The Duke was perfectly aware of all this : when, then, Valentine, in the most innocent manner in the world asked What would your Grace have me to do in this ? and th« Duke answered There is a lady in Verona here, he sounded the very depths of Valentine's deceit ; he answered Valentine according to Valentine's own geography; he echoed back to him his lie — Verona — with a flash of truth in it — here. If Valentine did not at once perceive that mischief was brewing, it was not long ere he discovered it; meanwhile the THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VEEONA. 31 Duke's eye, the Duke's tone, the Duke's manner, as he named a geographical impossibihty, a geographical absurdity, fairly shook the house with laughter. "When at last the letter dropped from the cloak, and the Duke read it aloud, aiid it became manifest that Valentine's Verona was in Mihm, and the friend he was corresponding with was a lady there, then was felt the full force and fun of that mysterious announcement, that extraordinary piece of Cloud - cuckooism to fall from the lips of a Duke of Milan in Milan, proved, however, to be strictly and strikingly true — ' Verona here.' To find the place, we must not look into Keith Johnson's Atlas, but into Valentine s love-wap. It may serve as some little confirmation of this view of the question, that in no other part of this Act is there the slightest confusion between the two places, but only wher.e' the Duke is engaged in unearthing Valentine's secret. I now come to the last, I had almost said the Act v. 4. 129. least, of the three geographical puzzles, where Valentine, indignant that Thurio should lay claim to Silva, tells him that, if he did it again, ' Verona should not hold him.' It is assumed that Shakespeare meant Valentine to say, that Thurio should never see his own city alive again ; and, if such had been the poet's intention, undoubtedly we should have expected some such words as Theobald has proposed, ' Milan shall not behold thee.' But 32 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESt^EARE. there is no occasion for such hcentious emendation ; we have merely to re-arrange the stops — to substitute a semi-colon or a comma for the present full stop after ' Verona shall not hold thee/ in order to show how closely that sentence is bound up with the words that follow, and then it becomes merely a question of what meaning should be given to the verb ' hold.' ' Verona shall not hold thee ' may mean ' Verona shall not receive you within the circuit of its walls,' or ' Verona shall not be a stronghold to thee,' or ' Verona shall not keep thee in check. Take the last meaning first, which is possibly the least likely. ' Hold ' would be used in the sense of ' withhold,' 'restrain,' 'check' — the simple verb for the compound, more Shakespeariano. ' Do not fancy,' Valentine would say, ' that I shall took to the forti- fications of Vsrona to keep thee at a distance from me ; lo ! I, I, Valentine, alone and undefended, pit myself against thee, and here, yes, here, and not in Verona, aye, and at this very ingtant, I challenge thee to the combat.' Or, if the meaning rather be ' Verona shall not serve as a stronghold to thee,' Valentine supposes that Thurio might flee to that the nearest inhabited and fortified city, in the hope of finding there a refuge and hiding-place. THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VBEONA. 33 Or it may be simply 'Verona shall not receive you within its compass ; I shall not wait for you to follow me thither to prosecute your claim or to repeat your insulting interference ; it is not there, it is here, that the matter shall be decided'; here she stands ; I dare thee but to breathe upgn my love. I suggest these various modes of solving the problem without selecting any particular one of them ; it is sufficient if they are possible ; the critics must choose which is the most probable. Perhaps there was a purposed vagueness in the threat, just as we hear angry people sometimes cry out 'Let me catch you there, that's all,' indicating the spot where they themselves are usually to be found. This last difficulty, then, I consider a mere bogey conjured up by the commentators ; we are scared to no purpose. It is true that we may not perceive the exact shade of meaning which the author intended should be given to the words, but we may be certain that he, who, before he wrote this play, had carefully and successfully adapted several, and was already beginning to be favourably known as an original playwright, to whom it was a matter of precious reputation as well as of pecuniary interest (to say nothing of his innate love for literary excellence p«- se) to observe all the dramatic ptopricties — we may be certain, I say, that he would not have written 34 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. carelessly and at random, mu^li less have left a grave error that a novice could hardly have been guilty of. '*'°83^" *■ ^^' There is a difficulty of a totally different kind in Act V. 4. 82-83, which has given a deal of trouble to commentators. When Proteus found himself face to face with Valentine whom he had deceived and betrayed, and could no longer conceal his base unnatural conduct, overwhelmed with shame and remorse, he confessed his guilt and implored forgiveness. Valentine, feeling that such an abandoned transgressor needed something more than the ordinary ' I forgive you,' wishing to make him feel that he was forgiven without stint or grudging, addressed to him, by way of encouragement, this remarkable assurance, And that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine m Silvia I give thee. These words, which have qinte dumbfoundered the expositors, seem to me to express not so much the quantity as the quality of the love which Valentine promised. Proteus well knew, how deep, how full, how true, how stedfast, had been Valentine's love for Silvia. Such, then, was the Miid of love which Valentine assured Proteus he might count on. In thus giving to Proteus, was he taking from Silvia ? In restoring Mm, was he renouncing her ? THE TWO GENTLEMEH OF VERONA. 35 Was he shaking Ms hand, and wringing her heart ? Impossible : he was merely giving his penitent friend the strongest pledge that it was possible for him to give that bygones should be bygones. But even supposing that quantity rather than quality of love were here indicated — no matter. Give as much as Valentine might to Proteus, he would have no lack of love for Silvia. There is no bankruptcy in love. It is inexhaustible as the sea, infinite as eternity. The more it spreads, the more intense and immense are its fires. To borrow an illustration suggested by the context, the eternal Father, in restoring to his bosom the returned prodigal, does not reject from it the unfallen child ; he guarantees ta the former all the love that had been his in the latter, without detracting aught from the latter. The multiphcation of objects loved is a manifestation and magnification of love. It may be objected, that Julia, who swaoned immediately she heard the words, understood them otherwise. Possibly so ; but that would not prove that Valentine otherwise intended them. Here, as elsewhere, e.g., in 'Eomeo and Juliet,' Act III. 5. 95, the poet uses words that are capable of bei^g understood two ways; the ambiguity was perhaps necessary at a critical juncture ; matters as between Valentine and Proteus had come to a head, causing immense sensation. There was need of some startling incident to sustain the interest, to divert and arrest the 36 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKE SPEAEE. attention. The fainting fit of Julia is a sort of 'Deus exmachina — a special interpx)sition. The ruse succeeds. We turn without an effort, nay, with eager interest and curiosity, from Valentine and Proteus to Proteus and Julia. Thiis are the threads of the piece all taken up, and woven together so as to form one beautiful whole of elaborate and exquisite workmanship. 'THE MERKY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 37 THE MERRY WIVES OF WNDSOR. In ' The Merry Wives of Windsor' there is some Act 1. 1.46. contradiction, and consequently there has been some controversy, as to the Christian name of Master Page, Sir Hugh Evans, the Welsh Parson, in Act I. 1. 46, calling him 'Thomas'— so the Quartds and the first Folio— whereas Mrs Page in Act II. 1, 153 and 162, and in Act V. 6. 213, calls him 'George.' The Cambridge editors say that they have left the text of the Folio uncorrected, as the mistalie may have been Shakespeare's own, but that it is possible that a transcriber or a printer may have mistaken Geo. for Tlio. We may be pretty sure that the name by which Mrs Page addresses her husband was the one which properly belonged to him. A man in Page's position in life would hardly in that day have had two Christian names. Every one but Evans, and Evans himself everywhere but here, adopts the style of Master Page. The Christian name, then, is not commonly added, and Evans, in adding it this once, was as likely to give it wrong as right. With much pretension to learning and accuracy, he is represented 38 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. as making many ridiculous mistakes. Thomas was a name common among the Welsh, and rightly or wrongly might easily have slipped from a Welshman's tongue. The misnomer, then, may be no error at all, but a quiet bit of humour intended by the author. It is certainly in keeping with Evans' nationality and Evans' character. Act II. 1. 224. And, while I am on the sul^ject of names, I may as well advert to another discrepancy, which occurs in other parts of the play and which has also excited some controversy, in connection with the pseudonym assumed by Ford. In Act 11; 1. 224 and 227, and elsewhere, 'Brook' is the name ascribed to him in the early Quartos, whereas ' Broome ' is set down in the Folios and in the third Quarto. Here again the Cambridge editors favour us with a note : ' That the ' former was the original name is proved by the jest ' in Act II. 2. 136, where the Folios make sheer ' nonsense ' — the passage they allude to is where Sir ' John Falstaff exclaims. Such Brooks are welcome to me .that o'erflow such liquor — ' On the whole, it seems probable that the name was ' altered in the stage copies at the instance of some * person of the name of Brook living at Windsor, who ' had sufficient acquaintance with the players, or ' interest with their patrons, to get it done.' I fancy I see a mode of reconciling the difference without THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 39 discarding either 'Broome' or 'Brook.' I shall assume that ' Broome,' the reading of the Polios, may have been a perversion of ' Bourn * or 'Burn,' vs^hich every one knows is a name for a brook. According to this hypothesis, the variation of 'Broome' and 'Brook' is immaterial ; properly spelt, they have the same meaning. Sir John's stream of liquor -might be said to flow as freely from a 'Bourn' as frqin a 'Brook.' It is not a little curious that in 'King Lear,' Act III. 6. 25, where the Quartos read ' broome,' and the Folios ' bourn,' Johnson proposed 'brook.' Such a coincidence is a mere trifle, but it does seem to give some little countenance to the theory that the two names, orthographically presented, are equally ap- propriate, the difference between them in signification amounting to zero. Of course, at a given represent- ation of the play, the same name, whichever happened to be chosen, would be adhered to. Having glanced at these two outlying difficulties. Act 1.1.21. I return to the commencement of the play, where Justice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans, are the interlocutors. We must not examine too rigidly every word and phrase which come from Shallow's mouth ; his utterances are never very profound ; it ia questionable whether they are always English or sense ; but he must have meant something when he said- Act I. 1. 21— The luce is the fresh fish ; the salt fish is -an old coat, 40 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. and the commentators are importunate to know what he did mean. His bit of natural history was evidently intended as a rejoinder to Evans, whose allusion to the louse, though meant to be funny, was neither fitting nor refined. ' Luce,' by the way, occurs in the 'Canterbury Tales,' where it is said that the Frankelein Had many a breme, and many a -luce in stewe. Shallow's heraldry is not so clear. I suppose that he likened the old coat to the salt fish from its having been preserved untainted and uncorrupted during a long period of time : the luce symbolized the quick and shining qualities of the Shallow family, the age of the coat was a witness of their antiquity. But was this all ? Shallow was fond of a joke, even when conversing on serious topics. Ndw we know from the * Tempest,' Act II. 2. 28, that ' poor John' was a name given to a salt fish, and we know from ' Komco and Juliet,' Act I. 1. 37, that the name was jocularly applied by a man to his fellow without the slightest offence being either intended or taken. Evans had insinuated that Shallow's coat, being an old one, was full of vermin ; if Evans, as being a 'poor persone,' had none too new a coat on his back, Shallow might have intended to give him a quid pro quo, when he presented him with a salt fish in return for his 'familiar beast.' The retort would be sine fdle, though not sine sale. The salt fish joke seems to have been a not uncom- THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 41 mon one; in 'Antony and Cleopatra ' Act II. 5. 16, we are told that Cleopatra's diver hung a salt fish on Antony's hook while he was fishing, which when he drew up, there was much merriment. The salt fish caught was Antony caught. That such jokes were current and understood renders it credible that under Shallow's heraldic observation lay a double meaning. I pass on to Act I. 3. Ill, 112, where the Act i. 3. iii- little clause, ' for the revolt of mine is dangerous,' which occurs in some words spoken by Corporal Nym, has touched the susceptibilities of the critics. The possessive pronoun has been objected to, and in its room 'Nym,' 'mien,' 'mind,' 'meisne,' 'men,' ' mine anger,' have been proposed. If I were positive that it were wrong, I know not whether, after reading what Ford says in Act II. 2. 40, ' our revolted wives share damnation together,' I should not advocate the substitution of 'wives,' or perhaps, as a more facile alteration, 'looinen,' for 'mine.' It is worthy of remark that ^revolt' is frequently used in Shakespeare, where uxorial or feminine infidelity is referred to ; thus in ' Othello,' Act I. 1. 134, Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, I say again, hath made a gross revolt -, and again in Act III. 3. 187, 188, Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt. 42 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. 'Farewell, revolted fair,' cries Troilus of the frail and fickle Cressida. See also ' Romeo and Juliet,' Act IV. 1. 58. Such a word, then, as 'revolt' does to a certain extent favour the suggestion, -that 'wives,' or, I should rather say, 'women,' originally stood, where 'mine' stands now. The error would be almost a counter- part of one which confronts us in ' Love's Labour's Lost,' where 'men,' a word sounding somewhat like 'mine,' should in all probabilitygive place to 'women.' But I may not recommend my own conjecttire, and I hesitate to condemn the reading of the copies. Such a use of the possessive pronoun is, or at any rate was, allowable in the English language, and may have been preferred by Nym here as more emphatically asserting his own important personality. In ' I King Henry IV.' Act IV. 1. 132, Shakespeare intro- duces the phrase 'The powers of us,' which I need not say would be scratched in a modern piece of English composition. Act II. 1 . n?. Another puzzle in ' Merry Wives of Windsor' is the word ' hack ' in Act II. 1. 62. Mrs Ford comes and tells Mrs. Page that she (Mrs Ford) might be knighted, if she only durst risk the consequences. Mrs Page replies These knights will hack ; and so thoii shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry. What did Mrs Page mean? There are various significations which ' hack' is capable of bearing. We THE MEBEY WIVES OP WINDSOB. 43 need not enumerate them ; it will be better, in my opinion, to ascertain in what sense ov senses Shakespeare is accustomed to employ the word. Now there is no lack of examples ; yet of all the places, in which 'hack' occurs, there is liot a single one in which it bears the meaning of ' becoming common,' which is the meaning assigned to it for this passage in the G-lossary appended to the 'Globe' Shakespeare. It is predicated of the warrior, of the forester, of the assassin, and it signifies dinting, cutting, wounding, mutilating ; in short, the general idea contained in it is that of destructivcness. Now it needs no great sagacity to see that this is a meaning which may very well be adapted to it here. The gist of Mrs Page's warning is that knights were up to no good — that they meant mischief. Let us see now what Mrs Quickly thought of the word ; for, although she was neither etymologist nor scholar, and could not even speak English correctly, she had the wit to know how it was popularly understood, and she may surely be allowed to be a pretty good judge of the sense in which her sex were likely to use it. When, then, Mrs Page's little boy was being examined by Evans in his 'hie, hccc, hoc,' she was shocked at his being taught such words as to 'hick' and to 'hack !' 'Hack' she considered a naughty word, and perhaps it was. Had, then, knights a naughty reputation ? I will not accept the evidence of such a Eend of a woman 44 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKEBPEABE. as Goneril, as given in 'King Lear,' Act I. 4. 262-266 ; I will support my case by a passage from 'Timon of Athens,' where it is said that a whore- master is like a lord, is like a lawyer, is like a philosopher, and — mark well the adverbial adjunct — 'he is very often like a knight;' Possibly 'hick' and 'hack' were slang words, just like 'tick-tack.' I conclude, then, that 'hack' is not used in ' Merry Wives of Windsor' in a totally different sense from what it is in ' King Henry VIII,' in ' Troilus and ' Cressida,' in ' Macbeth,' in ' Julius Caesar,' in 'Antony and Cleopatra.' The warrior's stroke, the woodman's blow, the murderer's stab, the lecher's outrage — to each of these it admits of being applied. Chaucer uses it of the sculptor's chisel, hacking in masonries As corbettes and imageries. Mrs Page meant that knights would use Mrs Ford not fairly ; nay, they would use her very foully; they would make a breach in her defensive armour ; they would wound the bark of her fair tree ; they would conspire against her to betray her. By an 'old hackster ' was probably meant an old debauchee. Act II. 1. us. What now is the force of that ethnical name which Page in his disgust applies to Corporal Nym in Act 11. 1. 148, ' I will not believe such a Oataian, though the priest o' the town commended him for a true man ? THE MEREY WIVES OF WINDSOB. 45 It is clear that it is used in this passage in no very complimentary sense ; but the difficulty consists in its being applied in ' Twelfth Night ', Act II. 3. 80, by Sir Toby to the Lady Olivia, where, unless that drunkard were so obfuscated by the fumes of intoxication, that he scarce knew what he was saying, it certainly cannot be considered an abusive designation. What account have we to give of the name, which will admit of its being applied with equal appropriateness to such antipodean characters as Corporal Nym and the Lady Olivia ? I see no reason for discrediting the opinion of those who hold that ' Catalan ', in its literal acceptation, is a native of Cathay. Now concerning Cathay Gribbon tells us that 'in Marco Polo and the Oriental Geographers •the names of Cathay and Mangi distinguish the ' Northern and Southern empires, which from A.D. ' 1234 to 1279 were those of the Khan and the Chinese. ' The search of Cathay, after China had been found, ' excited and misled our navigators, in their ' attempts to discover the North-Bast passage,' If this statement is true, (and it would be dangerous to impeach the accuracy of the Author of ' The Decline and Fall'), to Shakespeare and his contemporaries Cathay would be a country at the same time well known and little known — well known, in respect of its name and its general situation, and as having roused a spirit of discovery, and being likely to test the 46 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. endurance, of English sailors — little known, in respect of its physical features, and the number and character of its inhabitants. It must be evident, then, that all explanations which have been given of ' Catalan ', founded on the supposed good or bad qualities of the people of that far away land, must be dismissed as the dreams and vagaries of perplexed commentators. If, for instance, the Chinese were reputed to be then, as they are reputed in some parts of the world to be now, liars, cheats, sharpers, and I know not what, this will have nothing to do with the Catalans, who in Shakespeare's time were reckoned a distinct, as they were by the English an undis- covered people. It seems, then, to follow that, whatever be the meaning of ' Catalan ' in the two passages in which Shakespeare uses it, when taken per se, and apart from the context, it must have been of a more or less negative and colourless character; it cannot have been associated in the public mind .with virtues and vices of which nothing whatever could have been known. Nor is it necessary that the word should bear an ill meaning in ' Merry Wives of Windsor', nor is it possible that it can do so in ' Twelfth Night.' We rather want a meaning of a less positive character, which, however, may become sinister by implication, through the irony of the speaker, and by reason of the known good-for- nothingness of the person to whom the nickname is THE MERRY WIVES OP "^INDSOR. 47 applied. ' Catalan,' then, I define to be an inhabitant of an unknown land in the last cOlifines of the earth, of whose existence some Englishmen in Shakespeare's time might doubt, whose person •iQ.one of them had seen, whose character none of them knew ; an object of much talk, curiosity, and wonder. If some such meaning as this were conveyed to an English audience at that time by the word ' Catalan', we can understand how it came to be applied as well to Corporal Nym as to Olivia. Nym by his drawl and affectation, and by frighting English out of its wits, had conclusively proved to Page that he was no true-born Englishman ; he was altogether different from any whom Page had ever come across ; a strange mysterious sort of man ; of another sphere and another type surely; why, this must be that very identical wonderful creature, about whom they had all heard so ihuch, and of whom they were so anxious to catch a glimpse ; a ' Cataian' forsooth— a strange outlandish fellow, whom Page vows he would not boHeve, though the priest of the town vouched for his veracity. Olivia had objected to Sir Toby and his crew keeping up such a caterwauling in her house; immediately she is set down by Sir Toby as an extraordinary body, a heteroclite eccentric creature— the repartee of a strange cat was too good to be lost— 48 HARD KNOTS IN SBrAKESPEARB. a Catamn, cries Sir Toby. The cat was let loose, and the house was in a roar. It is not altogether matter for surprise, but it is worthy of remark, that Shakespeare, who in ' As You Like It ' incidentally alludes to the ' South Sea discoveries, here glances at that other great object of exploration, the North East passage, which, after having been long abandoned by English navigators, has in comparatively recent times been opened out, after incredible sufferings, by the courage and endurance of Scandinavian mariners. Act 11. 1.228. I have now to examine that extraordinary lusus scriptune, An-heires, which mocks us in Act II. 1. 228, and which, though it forms part of some words spoken by the Host, to whom we must allow great laxity of utterance, and from whom we receive some singular specimens of the English language, no critic, however conservative his proclivities, would wish to retain in its present form. The question is, in what form it should appear. We have here an uncom- monly hard nut to crack. I have asked myself whether, as a few lines above there is a stage-direction, informing us that the Host and Ford ' converse apart,' and as 'An-heires' occurs just tvhere their private conference comes to an end, ' An-heires ' itself may not be a mutilation of a stage-direction, indicating some gesture or change of posture at this particular THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 49 juncture on the part of the Host. I have thought it just possible that An-heires Shal. Have with you, mine host may have originally been Answers SJutllow. Have with you, mine host ; the best word, however, for a stage-direction would be ^Advances,'' which contains indeed the same number of letters as 'An-heires,' but not many of the same character. The change would be considerable ; but, the difficulty being great, I have thought it worth while to mention it in passing. If, however, ' An-heires ' may not be thought of as a stage-direction, it must have been either whispered to Ford, or spoken aloiad to Shallow and the company. Ford had asked the Host to introduce him to Sir John Falstaff under an assumed name ; the Host might not unnaturally have inquired whether he wished to take Sir John by surprise ; whether he wished his visit to be unforeseen ; in a word, whether he would go ' umuares ' — a form of ' unawares ' which has currency in Shakespeare. In a rude rough way ' An-heires ' and ' unwares ' are phonetically inter- changeable. In confirmation of this view it may be noted that Ford apologizes to Sir John for his 50 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. * unseasoned intrusion,' and iu another place says, 'I make bold to press with so little preparation before you.' I confess, however, that I am rather inclined to the opinion that the word was meant not for Ford, but for Shallow and the rest of the conipany. ' Cavaleire,' which has found favour with ond editor, I utterly repudiate ; it occurs more than once in the play, and, each time that it has been set doWn, it has been set down clearly and correctly ; what likelihood that a copyist would have failed to recognize it, and gone so far out of the way as to write a nonsensical word in its place? I would far rather believe that the original reading was 'my hearts,' hut that, the letters having been somewhat illegibly written, and the two words crushed into one, the copyist did not know what to make of it, and consequently has left us in the same state of bewilderment. As Shakespeare's es, from the specimens which we have of them, are not un- like a dwarfed t, ' my hearts ' might have presented the appearance of ' myheares.' I am not at all sure, however, that the two initial letters of the word were not CO, which, having been compressed together in writing, were mistaken by a copyist for an a — the britic will do well to observe the peculiar formation of Shakespeare's as — so that 'An-heires' is nothing more or less than a corruption of what was originally comheires, comurades, French camarades, 'comrades.' THE MEEBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 51 'Will you go, comrades?' is in the free and easy manner of the Host, and comes very near to the reading in the corresponding passage in the Quarto, 'Here, boys, shall we wag?' What iEsculapius will close up for good and all this unsightly cicatrice in the text? Why an objection has been made to Act V. 5. Act. v. 5.111. Ill, I can hardly tell. Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives ? See you these; husband ? do not these fair yokes Become the forest better than the town? We read in Act IV. 4. 63, that the spirit was to be dishorned. Dishorned he was. ' See you these ? ' exclaims Mrs Page, holding up the horns. They are called ' a pair ' in Act V. 1.7; ' yoakes ' is the word here, to spell after the fashion of the first Folio and the third Quarto. ' Husband ' — ' husbands ' — neither is destitute of authority, either will do, according as we suppose that Mrs P&,ge addresses only her own husband, or Ford as well ; or perhaps, holding up to the spectators 'that well-known emblem of domestic discord, she addresses the whole body of assembled husbands, whose wives would be delighted at their receiving such a home-thrust. The dictum that the horns were fitter for the beasts of the forest than to cause dissension and discord betwixt man and wife in civilized communities, reminds us of a passage in 'Othello,' Act IV. 1. 61, 62, 52 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. 0th. A horned man's a monster and a beast. lag. There's many a beast, then, jn a populous city, And many a horned monster. Is it objected that the transition is suspiciously abrupt from Mrs Page's question to Sir John to her question to her husband ? I answer that, after one short triumphant word of veiled reproof, with true feminine heart she turns from him, as scorning to trample on the fallen knight. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 53 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. We have hardly read half a dbzen lines in Aoti. i.i.o. 'Measure for Measure,' before we come, at any rate in the ' Grlobe ' Shakespeare, to a breach in the text, the vacant space being filled with a number of dots, the miserable substitutes of not less than two half lines which are supposed to have been lost. It is true that there are no dots in the Folios nor any traces of any interruption ; but the want of a finite verb, the prolongation of the metre, and a supposed harshness of rhythm, have led editors to conclude with Theobald — an excellent but not an infallible judge — that the metrical chain has been broken : accordingly, the Duke's opening address is thus presented to us : Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse ; Since I am put to know that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you : then no more remains But that to your sufficiency as your worth is able. 54 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKES.PEAEE. Most readers will acquiesce in this arrangement, without stopping to consider whether it is right or not. But the critic may not be so compliant. It is his business to strike out the conjectural dots, and try how the two fragmentary halves will read, as they appear in the Folios, as a whole. And this is what first strikes us, that the line of the Folios will scan ; the rhythm may be a little harsh and jumping, but not more so than in a nuniber of other lines which are found in Shakespeare, the soundness of which has never been contested.- As for the line being an Alexandrine, that can be no solid ground for rejecting it. Alexandrines being a recognized portion of Shakespearian versification. If, however, we are pressed to assign a reason for one being introduced here, we might plead that it conveys with more than ordinary solemnity and emphasis the Duke's estimate of Escalus' high character. Undoubtedly there is a verb wanting for the clause 'but that to your sufficiency,' but verbal ellipses are common both in the dialogue and in the drama, and, if the present instance may not be catalogued with such examples as I'll to this gear, Let him to field, Come answer not, but to it presently, I to this fortune that you see me in. ' Comedy of Errors,' Act Y. 1. 335 ; MEASUKE FOR MEASUBE. 55 Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the plain form of marriage, ' Much Ado About Nothing,' Act IV. 1. 1 ; — the last but one being i^articularly noticeable for its close and striking resemblance — we may remark that it is quite in Shakespeare's style to use at times a common idiom in a slightly uncommon way; a subtle critic might even argue that there is a special fitness in the verb being suppressed here ; the Duke on the eve of a hurried departure has no time for superfluous diction or regular formal grammatical instructions; his words are brief, or at least as brief as ducal dignity and the gravity of the occasion allow. He exhorts Escalus to have recourse to — some such phrase has to be supplied^his sufficiency, to the utmost ability of his worth. By ' sufficiency ' is meant intellectual capability, by ' worth ' high character, the two capital qualifications of a civil governour. To be sure, the adjective ' sufficient ' is used more frequently in this sepse than the noun, yet in ' Winter's Tale ' Cleomenes and Dion are said to be of ' stuffed sufficiency,' and compare ' Othello,' Act I, 3. 224. There is no need, then, to split the line of the Folios into two separate halves; still less to discredit the phrase (as has been done very lately) ' I am put to know ' — a rare bit of good old English which should on no account be disturbed. Perhaps we are more familiar with the phrase ' I am given to know ' ; yet we still speak of ' putting a person up to 56 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. a thing,' and in 'Othello,' Act III. 4. 29, Desdemona says that her loss of the handkerchief which Othello had given her \5rere enough To put him to ill thinking. In spite, then, of the pages which have been written on this passage, to which I am adding one page more, I see no sufficient reason for distrusting Act 1. 2. 125, here the chart of the Folios ; but I am not prepared to go by the Folios' chart, as I presume that the ' Globe ' editors do, when in Act I. 2. 125, they make Claudio say Thus can the demigod 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. The punctuation here seems to me to be faulty. ' The words of heaven ' should not be connected gramznatically with the preceding line ; it should stand independently ; any roughness of construction is amply compensated for by raciness of expression. Such exclamatory moral izings are conversational — are dramatic ; there is an ease and offhandedness about them which is natural. Somewhat in the same strain are those words in ' The Comedy of Errors,' Act IV. 4. 45, — these resemblances are worth observing — The prophecy like the parrot, ' beware the rope's-end.' MEASURE EOR MEASURE . 57 A colon, then, should be placed after ' weight,' and after ' The words of heaven ' a comma or else a hyphen should stand. Nor can there be a question that editors are right, Aot i. 3. 20. when they refuse to believe that Shakespeare, notwithstanding a habit he has of occasionally mixing together different metaphors, could possibly have written ' curbs to headstrong weeds ' in the 20th line of the 3rd Scene, We have strict statutes and most biting laws, The needful bits and curbs to headstrpng weeds, Which for this nineteen years we have let slip. Theobald, I believe, was the first to suggest ' steeds,' — an obvious and by no means impossible correction, which has been endorsed by ma,ny editors ; no one has whispered the simpler word ' deeds ' ; yet, when I come across such passages as The reverence of your highness curbs me froin giving reins and spurs to my free speech, and in ' The Taming of the Shrew ' I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour, I cannot but think that the metaphor, which is dropt in ' speech ' and in ' humour,' may have been dropt also in ' deeds,' which, and not ' steeds,' I reckon that Shakespeare wrote. The insertion of a wrong letter, w for d, is, I need scarcely say, a common printer's error. Here too is a line which the critics may ponder, where tlie very word I favour is 58 HAKD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. found after exactly the same metaphor, A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds. ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act II. 2. 200. Act I. 3. 42- Further down in the 3rd Scene, the 42nd and 43 43rd Hnes have given a lot of trouble to commentators ; I have on Angelo imposed the office ; Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home. And yet my nature never in the fight To do in slander, The Duke's name and the Duke's nature are evidently here placed in contradistinction to each other, his ' name ' representing his magisterial and judicial authority which was a terror to evil doers, his ' nature ' a byword for kindness and indulgence which had been too ready to overlook offences. Things had come to such a pass that a change of policy was absolutely necessary. The ' name ' of terror must occupy the foreground ; the good easy ' nature ' must stand back. The Duke had arranged that the two should be separated ; his ' name ' he would leave behind him ; Ms ' nature ' he would carry with him far from the scene of contention. Angelo was in ambush in his ■'name,' authorized to act, willing to strike. Had the Duke remained, and taken an active part in the prosecution of offenders ; had he shown that he could not only pass laws, but put them in force — that he could dare to strike, to MEASURE FOR MEASURE 59 execute, to kill — in a word (and it is the word which I believe Shakespeare puts into the mouth of the Duke here, a mild little word, if you like, as the nature of the Duke was mild, but the significance and comprehensiveness of which cannot be mistaken) ' to do,' he could not have escaped malignant misrepresentation for having so long permitted what now he punished. By absenting himself and empowering Angelo to act in his name, the blow would be struck, the deed done, yet the slander avoided. Such I conceive to be the gist of the passage. With regard to the meaning which I have given to ' do,' we may call to mind such phrases as ' to do him dead ' (3 Henry VI), ' do execution on the watch ' (1 Henry VI), and that mysterious threatening of the witch in ' Macbeth,' I'll do, I'll do, and 111 do ; and ' 2 King Henry VI,' Act III. 1. 195-96, My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best, Do or undo, as if ourself were l>ere ; and yet again ' 3 King Henry VI,' Act II. 6. 105, Warwick, as ourself. Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. There are various degrees of punishment, and various modes of dealing with offenders. To do is a dark word which sums up all. After ' my nature ' the verb ' may be ' must be supplied. Upon the whole, then, I consider that the difficulty of this passage has been exaggerated. It stands now as it 60 HAKD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. stood ever. As the actor intelligently repeated it, giving to each word its proper emphasis, an Elizabethan audience would 'take the meaning' at once. Was there any imperfection ? Well then, the poet left it to them ' to piece it out with their thoughts.' Act I. 4. 30. In the next Scene, — Act I. 4. 30 — many have stumbled over the half line Sir, make me not ylour story, and, failing to understand it, would fain have altered it. But Isabella does not say ' make me not the subject of your story,' but ' none of your story- telling, I pray,' or ' none of your story-telling to me,' as is evident from Lucio's replying ' 'Tis true,' as though, in what she had said to him, she had expressed a doubt of his veracity. ' Me ' is not an objective case after a factitive verb, but a dative. We may compare it with such expressions as Come me to what was done to her ; Leave me your snatches ; Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. ' To make a story ' is a phrase which needs neither explanation nor illustration. Act II. I. 39. Having removed this stumbling-block, I pass to a passage in Act II. 1. 39, where the question is not as to the meaning, but as to the exact words in which that meaning was intended to be conveyed. ' Brakes MEASUEE FOR MEAS'UEE. 61 of ice ' is the phrase of the Folios ; ' brakes of vice ' has been suggested as more appropriate and probable: the change is a small one, involving the addition of but a single letter, and that letter the letter of all others most hkely to have fallen out after an /: moreover it supplies an excellent antithesis — Well, heaven forgive him I and forgive us all ! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall : Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none, And some condemned for a fault alone. A miscarriage in the administration of justice is the th6me descanted on. The lucky undeserved escape of some is contrasted with the luckless hardly deserved capture of others : the latter for a mere slip of the foot, a stumble, a fall — ' a fault alone,' as the text has it — are pounced upon, arrested, arraigned, condemned, punished ; the former run from ' brakes of ' — what ? Whatever the word be, it is evident that it should indicate some great aiid grievous trans- gression, some heinous sin, the very opposite of ' a fault alone.' Let us remember that it is poetry and not prose that we are reading. Why not, then, 'brakes of ice ? ' ' Breaks of ice ' — I adopt the modern spelling — brings before us a vast frozen expanse, with a number of rifts and chasms, traps of death, pools of destruction, where we should expect not one fall only, but a succession of them — a drenching at the very least, if not a drowning— yet there are 62 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. some who get off without any such disastrous conse- quences — without a scar, a bruise — get off at a run. Miraculous escape indeed ! Now, if physical oc- currences may be used to picture moral haps, how could we have more vividly represented to us vast mischief done, vast risks undergone, ruin wrought for many, with, strange to say ! safety to self ? This is what the context demands, and this 'brakes of ice ' svipplies. By all means retain it, therefore, neither obliterating it nor adding a letter. Act III. 1. I shall next take notice of a passage in Act III. 1. 126-128. -"^ ° 126-128, where the question is not merely one of dry grammar, but involves also physiological, not to say spiritualistic considerations. In those magnificent lines, where Claudio, imagining that he had come to the very confines of the grave, shrinks from the dark outlook, and sums the dreadful possibilities of future existence, he supposes the following horror, to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling. What part of speech is ' thought,' and what is its relation to the rest of the sentence ? Is it a participle, or is it a noun ? Who, are they that imagine howling ? The spirits of the damned ? or others who imagine they hear them howling ? The latter, I take it, in both caaes. ' Thought ' is a singular noun in the nominative case, which by a MEASUEE FOE MEASUEE. 63 Shakespearian licence, of which we are not without examples, is the subject of the plural verb ' imagine,' unless it be allowed that the continual recurrence of the thought gives to a singular noun a plural signification, or, as a last resort, it be surmised that the plural termination has been accidentally omitted by the copyist. Anyhow, explain it as you will, 'thought' is the subject of the verb 'imagine.' ' Lawless and incertain thought ' is a periphrasis expressive of the mental idiosyncracy of lunatics. It is they who fancy they hear the damned ones howl. This connexion be- tween the maniac and the demon— 'a subtle theological mystery ! a dreadful physiological problem ! — is often touched by Shakespeare in those of his plays, in which maniacs or would-be maniacs figure, — comic- ally in the ' Comedy of Errors,' tragically in ' King Lear ' ; but, not to take too wide a range at present, the passage to which I wish to draw particular attention, as bearing more immediately on that which is now being considered, is in 'Troilus and Cressida,' Act V. 10. 29, I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth gollins swifi asfrenzifs fhougMs. Here, if I am right in thinking that ' mould goblins' should be supplied after ' frenzy's thoughts,' we have a striking parallel to Claudio's words, and one which illustrates the interpretation which I have given of them. 64 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE, ■^■''oTK?^ ■ ^' -A-t the end of the third Act there are a score or so of octosyllabic lines, within the short space of which we are asked to believe that no less than three pass- ages are hopelessly corrupt. This is such an unusual number of errors at such short intervals, that we are strongly inclined to suspect the judgment of the critics rather than the accurady of the copyists. It is the practice of expositors to tell us, when they are puzzled for a meaning, that some lines have been lost. This plea cannot be urged here; the lines rhyme, and neither the rhyme nor the rhythm can reasonably be objected to. Nor can there be any doubt as to the general drift qf the passage : He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe, Pattern in himself to know, Grace to stand, and virtue go, can only mean that Heaven's sword-bearer should have a pattern within himseslf of what is right, in order that he may know what he ought to do ; should have grace, in order that he may be able to stand; should have virtue, in order that he may make progress, or, in a word, 'go.' What, then, is objected to ? I suppose it i's the insufficiency of the words to convey that meaning, the baldness of the syntax, m fact, the extreme brevity. But this is hardly a fault at all ; and Shakespeare some- times, for force and vigour's sake, hesitates not to MEASURE FOB MEASUEK. 65 carry terseness even to the verge of obscurity. Nor is it to be wondered, if, where the metre is so short, the diction should be a little scanted ; the exigency of the rhyme must be taken into account ; in octosyllabics there is positively not room for a host of monosyllables ; if there is to be much expression, there must be some ellipse. Provided the sense is clear, what matters it if the syntax is a little indistinct ? The licence of omission here is not nearly as bold as it is in lines of the same length in 'Pericles.' Whether, then, we consider Shakespeare's general style or the metrical necessity of this particular passage, we see no sufficient reason for fault-finding here. But a little further on, where we come to the lines, 0, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side ! How may Ukeness made in crimes, Making practice on the times, To draw with idle spiders' strings Most ponderous and substantial things ! there does seem something out of joint; we catch the sense, but we miss the sequence ; a finite verb is wanting. Our first impulse is to look at the sentence immediately preceding, and borrow, if we can, a verb for the occasion ; but ' hide ' — the only verb available — though it just serves, hardly suits. What then ? Admitting this, have we exhausted every available resource ? Not So : it is a well- 66 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. known fact that one verb is sometimes made to serve for two clauses, which in its Strict acceptation applies only to one of them. The usual plan is to take out of the verb which is expressed the idea which is required. We may do so here. 'Dissemble,' suggested by the verb ' hide,' will answer our purpose. This is not a Shakespearian peculiarity ; it is not even a poetical license ; it is a perfectly legitimate literary artifice. So then it was not for the printer, nor for the transcriber, nor even for the author, unless he chose to do so, to supply a verb — it is for the good sense of the reader to borrow one. Nor is this the only way of getting out of the difficulty ; there is another equally possible, if not equally probable ; for do but interpose a hyphen between the preposition 'to' and the verb 'draw,' and the infinitive is an infinitive no longer ; it becomes a finite verb ; the stone of stumbling is a stepping-stone of progress ; examples of such verbs abound in Chaucer — in Spenser; the reader will insist on my showing that Shakespeare was not averse to the use of them ; here, then, are two instances, one of them at any rate uncontroverted and uncontrovertible : ' Merry Wives of Windsor,' Act IV. 4. 57, Then let them all encircle him about And, fairy-like, to-pinch the uhclean knight ; MEASURE FOE MEASURE. 67 ^Pericles,' Act IV. 6. 23, Now, the gods to-bless your honour ! If the last-mentioned mode of explaining the passage involves the acceptance of an old-fashioned and now disused compound, it must be remembered that archaisms are of more frequent occurrence in the octosyllabic than they are in the ordinary deca- syllabic lines. But I think I hear the critics say, ' It will not do ; it is too far-fetched, too strained, too antiquated.' Well then, if they will yet bear with me a little, I will start one theory more, which shall be simple, easy, unobjectionable, and thoroughly Shakespearian, and one by which I for my part shall be quite willing that the passage shall stand or fall. Although it is the custom nowadays to omit the preposition ' to ' before the infinitive after what are called the auxiliary verbs, such as ' may,' ' can,' will,' and the like, yet in the 'antiquary times' this omission was ■ by no means invariable ; as a matter of fact, the sign of the infinitive was very frequently inserted. Now Shakespeare, who stands intermediately between the ancients and the moderns, although in this particular h'e is fortunately more frequently at one with us, yet occasionally sides with them. This will be found to be mostly the case, where the infinitive precedes the auxiliary, or where it is separated from it by a parenthesis, 68 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKE.SPEABE. or by a subordinate clause, or by a succession of subordinate clauses ; where, therefore, it was deemed advisable, for clearness' sake, to mark the infinitive by its proper sign. The following passages will strikingly and sufficiently illusti^ate what I have said : ' Tempest,' Act III. 1. 61-63, I would, not so I — and would no more endure This wooden slavery than to suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth ; ' Comedy of Errors,' Act V. 1. 14-16, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble, And, not without some scandal to yourself, With circumstance and oaths so to deny This chain which now you wear so openly ; ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act II. 5. 52, I have spoken better of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand ; ' 2 Henry VI,' Act II. 1. 127-28, If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightst as well have Mown an our names as thus to name the several colours we do wear ; ' 2 Henry IV,' Act I. 2. 213, To approve my youth further, / will not ; ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act V. 1. 104, I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to doff him ; ' Othello,' Act I. 3. 191, I had rather to adopt a child than get it ; ' Pericles,' Act II. 5. 16, 17, She'll wed the stranger knight Or never more to view nor day nor light. MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. 69 These quotations — and more might be added— may be compared to so many scattered rays, which, when taken one by one, throw but a pale and doubtful light over the obscurity of our way, but, when concentrated, supply a powerful ihuminating body, which shows up every part clearly and distinctly. With a change of times forms of speech have changed ; and what the most sagacious critics have toiled in vain to discover was apprehended readily and at once in Shakespeare's time by every blockhead who could pay his shilling to secure a seat in the theatre. Nor should ive have remained so long in the darkness of ignorance, had half as much time been spent in mastering Shakespeare's style and marking his phraseology, as in presupposing corruption and busying ourselves in either pulling down or building up, each according to the fashion of his own fancy. The distance of the infinitive from the auxiliary on which it depends explains and ^excuses the inter- position of ' to ' between ' may ' and ' draw.' The passage is sound sans crack or flaw. The Act closes with So disguise may, by the disguised, Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting. ' Disguised ' has been suspected, because ' disguise ' immediately precedes. The suspicion is unreason- able. The repetition is in harmony with the character 70 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESlPBAEE. of the 'piece. The play is full of disguises. Isabella disguised her real intentions and promised to meet Angelo, though she never had any intention of meeting him ; Mariana disgliised herself and personated Isabella ; in this word the former, in that the latter, is probably alluded to. I am fully aware, however, that the Buhe was the disguised figure par excellence of the play ; it was he who moved behind the scenes and took liis full share in the development of the plot ; he trapped, caught, and convicted the hypocrite ; through him the old contract was consummated. If any, therefore, choose to insist that ' the disguised ' points rather to the Dulie than to Mariana, though I dp not myself prefer that view, I will not take upon myself to say that it is impossible. THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. 71 THE COMEDY OF EKROES. In ' The Comedy of Errors ' I should not think it Act 1. 1. 39. necessary to say a word on Act I. 1. 37-39, In Syracusa was I born and wed Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me, had not our hap been bad, if the writer of the second Foho had not, by inter- polating ' to ' after ' by me ' in the last line, sown a suspicion, which has since taken root and grown, that the metre is defective. But, if defect there were, it would not be set right by a miserable expletive. As a matter of fact, there is no defect -; the line may be scanned as an Iambic Dimeter, or ' our ' may pass, as it does sometimes, as a dissyllable, and then we have a line of the ordinary length. Nor in Act I. 2. 35-38, where we read Act i, 2. as. I to the world am Uke a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself, is there any need to disturb the text, although Mr. Spedding has actually been commended for proposing 72 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. to put ' in search ' in the place of ' unseen ; ' Mr. Staunton would change the punctuation to ' Unseen inquisitive ! ;' while another ingenious critic cuts ' forth ' in half, and, leaving the preposition ' for ' at the end of the line, tacks on the definite article to the beginning of the next. Strange hallucination ! ' Unseen ' is a participial adjective used absolutely, and refers not to the drop that seeks, but to the fellow drop that is sought ; ' his fellow having been unseen by him,' or, to put it more colloquially, ' without having seen his fellow, in his inquisitiveness, he confounds himself.' A person, not intimately ac- quainted with Shakespeare's style, will hesitate to believe that a participle can stand thus abrupt and isolated, without any thing for it to refer to save what the wit of the reader can supply from the context ; I shall only refer him at present to ' King Eichard II,' Act III. 2. 168, where ' humour'd ' stands in the same bare fashion ; but I promise him that, as I proceed with my examination of the several plays, I will point out and -comment on not one instance only but several most remarkable ones, which will satisfy him that the way, in which I propose to construe * unseen ' here, is neither unprecedented nor impossible. Act II. 1.103- Having disposed of these two small outlying 115, questions, I will proceed to grapple with a real THE COMEDY OF EEEOES. 73 diflEiculty in Adriana's speech in Act II. 1. 103-115, in the latter part of which it is certain that some explanation, some think that some emendation is absolutely required. I will leave it to others to estimate the worth of Pope's extraordinary version, which is chiefly remarkable for its bold violation of the text of the original copies ; it will be sufficient to ponder the more modest proposals of soberer emendators, who for the most part confine themselves to the single alteration of ' where ' to ' wear ' in the 112th line ; though Theobald in the same line, to make the sense clear and the metre complete, after 'and' introduced 'so.' The whole passage is thus set down in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare : Unfeeling fools can with such =wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere : Or else what lets it but he would be here ? Sister, you know he promised me a chain ; Would that alone, alone he would detain, So he would keep fair quarter =with his bed I I see the jewel best enamelled Will lose his beauty ; yet the gold bides still. That others touch, and often touching will f Wear* gold : and no man that hath a name. By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. * will, Where Ff. 74 HARD KNOTS IN SHAEESPEAEE. Now here there are three distinct questions which present themselves for considerafiion. In the first place, is any addition to the line necessary for the metre's sake — in other words, has a monosyllable fallen out which originally stood there ? Secondly, should ' wear ' of the emendators supersede ' where ' of the Folios ? Thirdly, what is it that Adriana under the veil of metaphor really says ? The first question I answer in the negative; nothing has been omitted ; nothing needs be added ; the line may remain precisely as 'We find it, and yet bo pronounced metrically complete. How can this be ? I answer that ' gold ' may be ranked among that numerous class of words, which, either from the length of time that it takes to pronounce them, or from a dissyllabic sound which they seem to have when distinctly pronounced, or from the emphasis which properly belongs to them in the position in which they stand, are permitted to have, so far as the metre is concerned, a dissyllabic value; this is known to be the case with such words as 'fire,' 'hour,' 'sour,' 'year,' 'near,' 'aches.' I think I shall be able to show that the same privilege is enjoyed by 'cold,' and, if by 'cold,' why not by ' gold ' also ? Now it is not a little singular that there are no less than four lines in Shakespeare, having ' cold ' THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. 75 in them, which lack their full quantum of syllables, and on that account have been soilght to be corrected by emendators, or have been stigmatized as incor- rigible. Take for example the following lines from ^' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act I. 1. 115, Virtue's 'steely bones Look bleak i' the cold wind ; withal, Ml oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. Here the second line is too short to be an Alexandrine, too long to be a line of the ordinary measure ; but let ' cold ' be tantamount to a dissyllable, and we have a capital Alexandrine, which, so far as poetic expression is concerned, cannot be surpassed. It may be objected that ' cold ' on its second occurrence is used strictly as a monosyllable, but the objection will not hold ; for Shakespeare does not scruple to use the same word in two differerrt ways even in the same line. Consider next the following line from ' 1 Henry IV,' Act IV. 3. 7, You speak it out of fear and cold heart. Here again we have the word 'cold,' and significantly enough, along with it, a seeming defect of metre. This instance is in some respects remarkable ; for it might easily be supposed — nay, it has actually been conjectured — that the indefinite article has been accidentally omitted before ' cold ' ; but against this theory it may be urged that in another part of the 76 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. play, where the same phrase occurs— this time, however, in prose, not in verse — where, therefore, the presence or absence of the article can be of no metrical moment, and where perhaps we should rather have expected it than otherwise, the article does not appear ; the words are in all respects just as they are here. I refer to that part of Hotspur's soliloquy, where he says 'in very sincerity of fear and cold heart.' I think it probable, therefore, that we should in this, as in the former instance, lengthen the metre not by introducing t^e article, but by treating ' cold ' as virtually a dissyllable. At the same time I am aware that it would be possible to iind the needful extra syllable in ' fear ' rather than in ' cold ' ; but I do not rest my case on a single line, but on a succession of lines, so that, should one fail me, I have others to prop me up. My third instance I fetch from ' 3 Henry VI,' Act IV. 3. 14, While he himself keeps in the cold field. An additional syllable is plainly wanted here. At one time I was tempted to think that ' cold ' must be a noun substantive, and that 'a-field' must have been the word that originally followed it ; but I now look to the adjective ' cold ' for a solution of the difficulty. THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. 77 Lastly, there is the witch's hne in ' Macbeth,' Act IV. 1. 6, which almost every critic is shocked at, but not one is venturesome enough to meddle with. Toad that under cold stone. Here, then, are four lines out of four different plays, where, the same word recurring, the same peculiarity also recurs. What shall we say? Can the apparent metrical deficiency be imputed in every one of these instances to chance ? — to inaccuracy on the part of the transcriber? Would it not with much more probability be ascribed to a license known to exist in Shakespeare's versification, whereby a monosyllable is sometimes treated as a dissyllable, a dissyllable as a trisyllable, and even a trisyllable as a quadri- syllable ? There is no question that such a licence exists ; the only question is whether ' cold ' is a word which has it ; if so, ' gold,' which, barring a letter, is a facsimile of it, may have it also. It is better in my opinion to explain thfe difl&culty so, than to import an adventitious word into the text. With respect to the second qi^^stion which I proposed for consideration, whether 'where' or 'wear' be the true reading, it will not be necessary for me to enter upon any lengthy inquiry, nor even to come to any definite decision, as the -explanation which I shall give will admit equally of either, though there will be some little difference in the meaning, according as we prefer this word or that. If with 78 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. the Folios we read ' where,' ' touching ' will have to be taken not as a verbal noun, but as a participle used absolutely, in which case the sense will be, ' though people often touch, gold will bide, where it is gold and not adulterate metal,' and the stops will have to be shifted thus, That others touch, and, often touching, will. Where gold. Having now cleared away, as I believe, all obstruc- tions in respect of the metre, and in respect of the reading, I will address myself to the more impor- tant and not less arduous task of explaining the drift of Adriana's parabolic utterances. Under the ■ figure of a jewel best enamelled losing its beauty I think she refers to her own precious person of matchless workmanship, which, partly through the touch of time, but principally through the lapse of her husband's regard, no longer retained the delicacy of outline and consummate beauty which it once possessed ; and this view of the passage agrees with what she presently says in no ambiguous language, Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, I'll weep ivhafs left away, and weeping die. Further, under the figure of gold biding still, she signifies that, though her fair enamel was no longer what it had been, the material on which it had been wrought had not deteriorated ; the underlying golden metal still remained ; her fine moral and mental THE COMEDY OF BEROES. 79 faculties had lost none of their pristine excellence ; the wear of time, the rough dirty fingers of the world, had had no power over theii ; inwardly, if not outwardly, she retained all her original charms — the essence of true beauty : and here let the reader choose, whether 'wear' shall have the ascendancy, in which case Adriana would hint that that precious part of her which had not been impaired might not for ever be proof against the rough collisions of the world ; or whether ' where ' should be allowed to remain fixed, in which case she would protest that the fine gold of her inner self, come what might, would bide still, undimmed, undiminished. Turning then from reference to herself Vo reference to her husband, she says that, even if he did not respect his wife's golden qualities, he should have some regard to his own good name, and not suffer it to be tarnished by corruption and falsehood which no man of respectability would voluntarily endure. Such I conceive to be the most probable interpret- ation of the passage ; but there is just a possibility that, after alluding to herself under the figure of a jewel best enamelled which she perceives may lose its beauty, as in her husband's eye she seemed to have lost hers, under the figure of gold she may refer to her husband, who, although owing to the robustness of his constitution he showed as yet no signs of wear, ■ — and now I cheerfully accept the word of the 80 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. emendators — yet would, she intimates, in spite of the natural hardness of his metal, most certainly become depreciated, if he persisted in his adulterous connexions, albeit regard for his fair fame should of itself be sufficient to keep him from the ways of corruption and falsehood. Act lY. 1. 96. "We may now read on without let or hindrance, till we come to Act IV. 1. 96, where, Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio of Syracuse stumbling against each other, everything as usual goes wrong : Ant. B. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope And told thee to what purpose and what end. Dro. S. You sent me for a rape's end as soon : You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark. The first line of Dromio's reply lacks the usual number of feet, but I do not say that it cannot stand for all that ; yet it is possible that it may have met with an accident ; and it is certain that Dromio's retort would not have been less spirited and effective, if he had said You sent me for a rope ! rope's end as soon ! But to import a word into the line and to alter the punctuation without a single copy of the Folio on my side, and with, in all probability, a whole army of critics arrayed against me, is more than I can hope to carry ; without, therefore, insisting on this change, I will advocate another, for which I expect to secure the suffrages of at any rate a very respectable minority. THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. 81 In Act IV. 3. 12-20, we find the following dia- Act iv. 3. 12-20. logue between the Syracusan Antipholus and the Syracusan Dromio : Bro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What ! have you got the picture of old Adam new- apparelled ? Ant. S. What gold is 'this ? What Adam dost thou mean ? Dro. S Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison : he that goes in the calf-skin that was killed for the Prodigal ; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. What are we to make of Dromio 's question, * Have you got the picture of old Adam, new-apparelled ? ' Theobald, who was usually as sharp in detecting error as he was shrewd in emending it, took the bull by the horns and boldly stuffed in two new words, ' Have you got rid of the picture of old Adam, &c. ? ' There is little doubt that there is something wrong. The vicious word, the impostor of the text, is, I believe, 'picture,' which has been suffered to creep in and filch the place of some other word, similar to it in form but vastly different from it in meaning. What can that word be ? Change the labial p into the labial v, and, as it were by magic, ' picture ' is metamorphosed to 'victure.' Now, precisely as ' augury ' — this we have on incontestable authority — was sometimes written ' augure,' so I have little doubt that ' victory ' was set down in this passage in what to us would be the strange guise of ' victure.' Hence arose the mistake. ' Picture ' is a blunder 82 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. for ' victory,' which may have been so pronounced as to be heard as, or (which is perhaps more likely) so misformed as to be mistaken by the reader for ' picture.' Dromio, on his return, finding the officer no longer with Antipholus, asks him whether he had got the victory of this old Adam in new apparel. ' Yictory ' is the word that exactly suits the passage, and ' victory,' I am pretty sure, was the word that was set down in the author's original MS. Should we not now restore it to its rightful place ? Act V. ]. 400- There is one move passage which I have to notice 406. ■•■ ^ before I have done with ' The Comedy of Errors.' In Act V. 1. 400-406, the Abbess is represented as saying Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail Of you, my sons, and till this present hour My heavy burthen ne'er delivered. The Duke, my husband, and my children both, And you the calendars of their nativity. Go to a gossips' feast, and go with me. After so long grief, such nativity. It has been thought highly improbable that Shake- speare, after commencing a line with ' Go to a gossips' feast,' should have ended it with ' and go with me.' Hence various emendations have sprung up, amongst which Dr. Johnson's ' and gaud with me ' is most conspicuous. But a little consideration, I think, will satisfy us that the words are not the poor weak repetition that some fancy. THE COMEDY OP EEHORS. 83 Here was a woman, who for many a long year had lived a conventual life devoting iierself to prayers and charitable deeds ; all of a sudden a discovery is made which restores to her her husband, her sons, and, we may almost say, herself to herself. The cause of her seclusion has ceased to exist ; the time of her joy has come ; not only does she encourage others to go to a feast, but she herself now icill go with them — ' Go with me ' — she cries — 'with me, with me, the Abbess ! for I also will go,' After so long grief, such nativity ! 1 have struck out the semicolon which I have found after ' and go with me,' and substituted for it a comma ; I have restored the Folios' word ' nativity ' which had been forced to give way to Dr. Johnson's conjecture ' festivity.' An indigenous flower had been eradicated, and a sickly exotic planted in its stead. On what ground is ' nativity ' objected to ? Is it because it is found twice in the short compass of three lines ? But this is not sufficient reason for even suspecting it. Such repetitions are occasionally fotmd in the works of all great writers, and of Shakespeare among the rest, of which we could furnish abundant proof; they are hot uncommon in familar conversation, and in dramatic composition, in both of which the language is 'more or less of an autoschediastic character. With as much reason might ' festivity ' be objected to, because in three 84 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKE8PEAEE. consecutive lines we should have -' feast,' ' festivity,' 'feast.' 'Nativity' is the dominant idea of the passage. The repetition of the word emphasizes the double event. There were two nativities ; the one literal, and the other metaphorical. The Abbess, who had not inaptly compared the reappearance of her long-lost sons to a regeneration or second birth of them, repeats more than once what more than once had happened — more than once she pondered. 'Nativity' was her word — a cry of triumph after her groans of travail — a not unnatural iteration. But let all this go for naught, and still I hold that ' nativity ' is not only the right word, but the only word that the context admits of. The Abbess distinctly indicates (400-402) two .operations which in the course of nature succeed each other — first, the parturition, Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail Of you my sons ; secondly, the bringing to the birth, and till this present hour My heavy burthen ne'er delivered. When, then, in the lines that follow, she invites the several parties to the feast that was usually cele- brated on such occasions, she distinctly intimates as the reason of their rejoicing the auspicious termination of those two operations ; only what in that place she had called ' thir'ty-three years of THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. 85 travail,' in this place she calls ' long grief ; ' what tliere was 'delivery,' here is 'nativity.' The two pairs exactly correspond to each other. To put some other word in the place of ' nativity ' is to destroy that correspondence : ' such ' briefly summarizes the many peculiar circumstances of the delivery or birth, its long postponement, its extraordinary nature, its providential unexpected jubilant character. This is Shakespeare's meat and it is infinitely to be preferred to the Schoolmen's porridge. 86 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. Act II. 2. u. If I (Ji(j not know that even first-rate critics are liable at times to make mistakes, I could not have believed that the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare would have thought it necessary in ' Much Ado About Nothing,' Act U. 2. 44, to set an obelus against the words, Hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio ; especially as in a note in the 'Cambridge Shakespeare,' after speaking of the ' difficulty here,' they conclude with the remark, that ' perhaps the author meant that Borachio should persuade ' her to play, as children say, at being Hero and Claudio.' It is not a matter of ' perhaps ;' it is almost a demonstrable certainty. From Don John we learn that Margaret's 'chamber-window was entered;' from Borachio, that ' Margaret knew not what she did when she spake to him,' which plainly implies that something more had passed between them than the mere ordinary interchange of lovers 'greetings. What that something more was, we are not left to conject- ure. Borachio himself significantly confesses that MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 87 he courted ' Margaret in Hero's garments.' So, then, Margaret had, by previous arrangement, masqueraded herself for the occasion, and assumed the name of Hero, and the character of Hero. Can any one doubt that Borachio had taken the cor- responding part ; had got himself up as Hero's vis-a- vis ; had personated Olaudio and had by Margaret been ' termed Claudio ?' And this is what is alluded to, when it is said, that Margaret had done what she had done ignorantly. She had unwittingly been made the tool of a villain to accomplish the ruin of her mistress. Nor is there a gap in the text in ActlY. 1. 167-159, Act iv. i. ^ ^ ' 167-159. where the Friar says. Hear me a little ; for I have only been Silent so long, and given way unto This course of fortune. This, which may be called the preface of his speech, contains a personal explanation — a sort of apology for the silence which he had till then maintained, which must have appeared strange, and which was liable to be misconstrued. Such being its character, it is but loosely connected with the subject-matter which follows. Hence there is room here for one of those breaks in the versification which are occasion- ally to be met with. The Friar pauses, as if to rivet the attention of the company, and gird himself up for the not very easy task of proving a paradox and 88 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKE SPEAEE. seeming impossibility. After this he commences his speech proper, and commences it not unfitly with a fresh line : By noting of the lady ^ have mark't A thousand blushing apparitions &c. &o. &o. The only change which I have made,the only one which is required, is the obliteration of the Quarto's comma after ' mark't.' There are soriie who think that 'some words have probably been lost, giving the Friar's reason for remaining silent, viz ., that he might find out the truth.' But no such reason was wanted : he himself tells us how his silent time had been employed ; while others had been listening, believing, condemning, he had been observing. No lines, nor line, nor fragment of a line, do we miss here. Act v. 1. 16. A real difficulty, however, confronts us in Act V. 1. 16 ; it is but a matter of half a line ; nay, it is confined to but a single word ; but, in order that the reader may have fresh in his mind the attendant circumstances, I will set down as many of the lines which precede as will suffice for the purpose : Bring me a father that so loved his child Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine, And bid him speak of patience ; Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine And let it answer every strain for strain, As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, In every lineament, branch, shape and form ; MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 89 If such a one will smile, and stroke hia beard, And sorrow, V)agge, crie hem ! when he should groan, Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk With candlewastera ; bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience. The half hne printed in itahcs is spelt and stopped, just as it appears in the Quarto and in the first and second Folios. Some have retained the words, but altered the punctuation ; others have altered both the punctuation and the words. It is the little word ' wag,' which, like some insect pest, torments us. Whatever we think of it, whether that it is genuine or counterfeit, it was perhaps suggested in the one case to the author, in the other to the printer, by the occurrence of ' beard ' in the previous line. Being the reading of the copies, we are bound to defend it, if we can ; if we cannot, and no one else can, then nothing will do but we must try to find something to put in its place. Now our best plan will be to ascertain as far as possible what is the idea contained in the verb ' wag '; and this we shall be more likely to do correctly, if we note some of the phrases in connexion with which it is elsewhere used in Shakespeare. It is applied by him to a straw, to the beard, to a finger,- to the eyelids, to the tongue, all of which are said to wag, or be wagged ; in other words, it is applied to light objects, to small objects, to objects whose movement is moderate, is measurable, is insignificant. To ' wag sorrow,' then, would imply that the sorrow 90 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. was little, whereas Leonato's was immense ; that it was light, whereas his was enormously heavy ; that it had a gentle to and fro movement, whereas his had the force of a rapid and the fall of a cataract ; that it was but .of short duration, whereas his was such that it could never, never be obliterated — in a word, that it was a mere nothing, whereas his was everything. Now, if this is a fair comment on the phrase, I see no reason why Shakespeare may not have used it to mark the callousness or levity of the man who is conceived by Leonato's hypothesis — a man to whom Leonato's great overwhelming crushing interminable sorrow was but as a straw, as a hair, as the movement of his finger, as the vibration of an eyelid, as manageable as his own tongue. For such exceptional inhumanity a strange and exceptional verb might almost be looked for. The grammatical order of the words is, of course, reversewise of the order in which they stand. Of the six descriptive clauses, the first three attribute to the man merely a different expression of counten- ance, or a gesture, unaccompanied by a syllable or a sound ; the three last give him voice and sound, progressing gradually from the monosyllabic ' hem,' through a proverb or so, to a systematic course of debauchery and dissipation. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 91 Upon the whole, then, we need not scruple to recognize the phrase, 'And sorrow wag,' which, though unexampled, is not impossible for Shakespeare. It is somewhat analogous, albeit longo intervallo, to an expression which occurs in King Eichard II, Act II. 3. 164, ' play the wanton with our woes.' The nearest — some may think, the best — conjecture is Tyrwhitt's ' gag '; what may be said for it, may be seen in ' Macbeth,' Act IV. 3. 209, What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows ; Give sorrow words ; What against it, in the words which immediately follow, the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break ; or, as it is expressed in ' Titus Aiidronicus,' Act II, 4. 36, Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, Doth burn the heart to cinders*where it is. It was not in smiling, or beard-stroking, or sorrow- wagging, that that ' sorrowful thing,' whom Chaucer has delineated, indulged : Nor she had nothing slowe be For to-scratchen all her face And for to-rent in many place Her clothes, and for to teare her swire, As she that was fulfilled of yre, And all to-torne lay eke her heere About her shoulders, here and there. As she that had it all to -rent For anger and for male talent. 92 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ♦ * * * She all to-dasht her selfe for wo And smote togider her hands two. But the reader will hardly thank rae for giving only a mutilated fragment of Chaucer's famous description. love's laboub's lost. 93 LOVE'S LABOUE'S LOST. Every one, I suppose, will allow that verbal Act in. i. 74. correction of some sort is urgently needed in 'Love's Labour's Lost,' Act III. 1. 74, where the ' Globe ' editors indicate by their wonted obelus that they are not satisfied with the word which they have inserted. Moth. A wonder, master ! here's a costard broken in a shin. Arm. Some enigma, some riddle : come, thy I'envoy ; begin. Cost. No egma, no riddle, no I'envoy : no salve f in the mail, sir : 0, sir, plantain, a plain plantain ! no I'envoy, no I'envoy ; -no salve, sir, but a plantain. The Quartos and the first Folio have sin thee male;' the second, third, and fourth Folios ' in the male '; the corrections proposed are 'in the vale,' 'in the matter,' 'a the mal,' 'in them all' — the last plausible, but not probable, as immediately afterwards Costard expressly says, that he desires neither I'envoy, nor salve, but a plantain. The only conceivable explanation of the text, as it stands, is, that the adjective ' male,' which is mostly used in composition, as in 'malefice,' but sometimes out of composition, as in 'mal talent,' has been 94 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. employed as a substantive in the sense of ' in the bad place.' But I am not disposed to acquiesce in a compromise of this sort. I think it possible that the original word may have been 'gall,' which is defined by Johnson to be ' A slight hurt by fretting off the skin' — no bad description, by the way, of the sort of injury which a person would have been likely to sustain, who, like Costard, had fallen over the threshold. In ' Hamlet ' Shakespeare uses the verb ' gall ' in a somewhat different sense from that which is ordinarily attached to it. Laertes speaks of ' galling ' Hamlet slightly, by which he means loounding him. Now, if a gall may be said to be inflicted by a cut from a sword, may it not also by a knock from a threshold ? The true word might easily have been swallowed up by the false. The last e of ' male ' was probably only a dwarfed I ; m I know for a fact has in certain MSS. crept into the place of ac, of gl,of &, of s ; and why not here of ^ ? Or ' gall ' may have been so written and spelt, as to have been mistaken by the copyist for ' male.' Act IV. 1. 69. A word in a letter of Don Adriano de Armado — Act IV. 1. 69. — must next engage our attention; an extraordinary phenomenon it is, uncouth, dissonant, nonsensical : He it was that might rightly say, Veni, vidi, vici ; which to annothanize in the vulgar,— base aiid obscure vulgar !— videlicet, he came, saw, and overcame. love's labour's lost. 95 So the Quartos and the first FoKo ; the second, third, and fourth Folios have ' anatomize,' whicli is probably the guess-word of some transcriber. It is, of course, just within within the bounds of possibility that ' annothanize ' may be exhibited to us as a specimen of the sesquipedalia verba which were fashionable at that time, and which the poet quizzes ; but I think it more probable that It is rather a rough resemblance of what Arm ado said than an exact representation. Did he mean to assert that it was impossible to express adequately by an English translation the spirit and force of Cassar's celebrated pithy despatch ? If so, ' anotkingize,' though an outrageous soloecism, would at least make sense, and might be matched with Chaucer's word ' anientissed,' used by him in the sense of * reduced to nothing.' As for such a barbarism as ' anotherize,' though it might convey the same meaning, I will have nothing to do with it. How now shall we treat the 180th line of Act IV. Aotiv.s.iso. Sc. 3, where both the sense and the scansion are out of joint ? What strikes one at once as the right thing to do is to read I am betray'd, by keeping company With men, like ivormn, of inconstancy, instead of what the copies give us, With men, like men, of inconstancy ; 96 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. and some such treatment as this has already been prescribed ; but unfortunately the hand, which splintered the line so, made a fresh fracture in it by substituting the preposition 'in' for ' of;' just as if it were not quite as' good English to say ' men of inconstancy,' as to say ' men of wealth, of probity, of honour.' The emendation 'women' bears the impress of truth, but it is furthei* recommended by a couple of passages to be found elsewhere in Shakespeare, which, as they are rather close parallels, I shall think it worth while to transcribe. Let the reader ponder the following lines from ' Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music,' For now I see Inconstancy More in women than in men remain : Lo here ! the same word ' inconstancy !' ' men ' and ' women ' standing in close proximity ! This only difference — the masculine gender is said to have an advantage over the feminine. In Sonnet XX the poet says his love has A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion. Lo here again ! A particular individual man and womenkind in general are contrasted ; but so, that the man is still represented as dominating the woman. Is it not, then, extremely probable — I had almost said, is it not certain — that in ' Love's Labour's Lost ' LOVE S LABOUR S LOST. 97 ' women ' should stand in juxtaposition to Biron's 'men,' albeit, according to him, the masculine gender, as represented by his associates, is not more worthy than the feminine. I am now going to attempt to emend a passage in Act v. i. 31. Act V. 1. 31, which is a very awkward one indeed to deal with, but which, as it seems to me, has been wrongly corrected by a succession of editors. It is where Holofernes, with Nathaniel for his listener, is expatiating on the finicking pronunciation of Armado : he elepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebour ; neigh abbreviated ne. This is abhominable,* — which he would call abbominafele : it insinuateth me of infamie f : ne intelligis, domine ? to make frantic, lunatic, Nath. Laus Deo bene intelhgo Hoi. Bome boon for boon prescian a little scratch'd, 'twill serve. Nath. Videsne quis venit ? Hoi. Video et gaudeo. Now I have not the slightest objection to ne intelligis being changed to anne intelligis ; but why change infamie to insanie ? ' It insinuateth me of infamie ' may be Holofernes' way of saying, 'It is in my opinion infamous,' the pronoun 'me ' being n6t an objective case but the dative which is so frequently used in * The first Quarto has ' abbominable ' ; the third md fourth Folios ' abominable. t So the Quartos and the Folios. 98 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Shakespeare, and ' insinuateth ' bging an intransitive verb equivalent to ' It is insinuative of.' But, not to be too dogmatic on a point which is perhaps open to question, I will proceed to examine Holofernes' rejoinder to Nathaniel, which, as fdund in the Quartos and Polios, is quite an (Edipodean riddle. Theobald was the first to attempt a solution. He supposed that Nathaniel blundered in his Latin, saying • bo7ie intelligo,' instead of '-bene intelligo,' and, having thus demolished the reading of the copies in Nathaniel's speech, he obtained for himself a substratum on which to build up Holofernes' answer. Nath. Laus Deo, bone intelligo. Hoi. Bone ? Bone for bene, Prisoian a little seratch'd; 'twill serve.' The Cambridge editors, following to a certain extent Capell's lead, make Holofernes, who in every other part of this passage speaks Latin, in this particular part of it speak French. Nath. Laus Deo, bene intelligo. Hoi. Bon, bon, fort bon, Priscian ! a little soratcli'd ; 'twill serve. ' Holofernes,' they say, 'patronizingly calls Nathaniel ' Priscian, but, pedagogue-like, will not admit his 'perfect accuracy. 'A little seratch'd' is a phrase * familiar to the schoolmaster from his daily task of ' correcting his pupils' 'latines.' The idea of a man like Nathaniel, who, as delin- eated by Shakespeare, is neither an idiot nor ilHterate, making such a ridiculous blunder in his Latin, as to love's labour's LbST. 99 put 'bone ' for ' bene,' is so utterly preposterous, that we can only regard it as a clever juggle, which we cannot beheve even though such a celebrated thau- maturgist as Theobald is the manipulator. Nor are wo in such a strait as to be obliged to suppose that ' prescian' of the copies can only stand for 'Priscian,' as some commentators fancy ; nor do I think that the Cambridge editors are right in making Holofernes address Nathaniel by the name of that famous grammarian. What reading, then, which is alike possibleand probable, do I venture to offer? Nathaniel's Latin at any rate I shall leave as I find it. I shall confine myself to the task (which I acknowledge I have found no easy one) ofrestoringwhatis defective and clearing ap what is obscure in Holofernes' answer. And first I must remind the reader, although he may be aware of it, that, wheresoever in the play either Latin, or French, or indeed any foreign language, is introduced, it is generally set down in the copies in characters so regardless of orthography, that it is hardly capable of being deciphered, except by an expert or a specialist. Who that was uninitiated could guess that ' alone ' officiated for ' allons ? ' or that Facile precor gellida quando pccas ojnnia sub umbra was intended for Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus bmne sub umbra ? 100 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEB. I am asking, then, nothing outrageously impossible, when I ask the reader to concede ihat ' home,' which is the first word of Holofernes' rejoinder, is nothing more or less than the mangled remains of ' optime — etymologically obtime' — by which word Holofernes expresses his satisfaction with Nathaniel's answer. 'Bene,' cries Nathaniel ; ' optime,' echoes Holofernes. ' Boon ' for ' boon ' I leave as it is. Holofernes either refers to Nathaniel's having given praise to God for his powers of understanding — a 'boon' of thanksgiving for a ' boon ' received of intelligence — or (which I think much more likely) in the one word he refers to the ' boon ' which he himself had conferred on Nathaniel in the exposition which he had just delivered, and in the other to the ' boon ' which Nathaniel had conferred on him in rightly compre- hending his meaning ; there was a sort of reciprocity between them ; the one boon consisting in the explanation given, the other in the manner in which that explanation had been received and appreciated : ' priscian ' I take to be a scribe's mode of spelling * precision ; ' Holofernes and his school boasted of their logical precision ; and it does not follow, because he confesses that it was a 'little Scratch'd,' i.e. that his description was not as perfect as he should have liked it to be, that he did not reckon it a ' boon,' or that he was really ill satisfied with his elaborate love's labour's lost. 101 address. His concluding word, ' 'Twill serve,' matches with his commencement, ' Satis quod sufficit.' Further on in the scene— Act V. 1. 100-106— Act v. Armado's speech should be pointed thus : Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure ye, very good friend. For what is inward between us, let it pass— I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy ; I beseech thee, apparel thy head — and among other important and most serious designs, and of great import indeed, too, but let that pass; for I must tell thee, .it will please his grace, &c. The matter included by hyphens is parenthetical ; the remainder forms a continuous, though irregularly constructed sentence. ' Let this pass,' and ' Let that pass,' ' for I must tell you so-and-so.' Armado's parenthetical entreaty reminds us of Hamlet's words to Osric — Act V. Sc. 2 — 'I beseech you, remember ' — the remainder being indicated in the following stage- direction, * Hamlet moves him to put on his hat.' To which Osric replies : 'Nay, good my lord; /or mine ease, in good faith.' I suppose that ' thy courtesy' is somewhat analogous to ' your worship,' and that 'remember thy courtesy' is tantamount to 'remember what is due to thyself.' Some words spoken by Eosaline in the next scene Act v. 2. ■vr ■ ■, 62-68. — ^Act V. 2. 62-68 — I must not pass by unnoticed : 1. 102 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. How I would make him fawn and beg and seek And wait the season and observe the times, And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes, And shape his service wholly to my device And make him proud to make me proud that jests ! So perttamit-like would I o'ersway his state That he should be my fool and I his fate. ' Wholly to my device ' is the reading of the Quartos and of the first Folio ; the second, third, and fourth Folios have ' all to my behests^' The former mars the rhyme, the latter makes it. I believe that ' device ' was an error of a copyist and that the original reading was not ' wholly to my hests,' as Mr. Dyce imagined, but ' wholly to my behests,' which I need not say is metrically correct. Act v. 2. 67. What now a little below is ' perttaunt-like,' as the first Quarto spells it, or ' pertaunt-like,' as the second Quarto and the Folios do ? I make no question that it was meant for ' portent-like,' as has been conject- ured ; a fitter or finer word could not have been selected. Let the reader mark well Eosaline's vaunt, that she would oversway Biron's state in such a way that he should be her fool, and she his fate, and then read the following extract from Buckle's History of Civilization in England on the influence exercised by spiritual laws on the character of individuals. ' Now, so far as natural phenomena arc concerned, ' it is evident that, whatever inspires feelings of terror LOVE 8 LABOUR S LOST. 103 ' or great wonder, and whatever excites in the mind ' an idea of the vague and uncontrollable, has a ' special tendency to influence the imagination and ' bring under its influence the slower and more ' deliberate operations of the understanding. In ' such cases, man, contrasting himself with the force ' and majesty of Nature, becomes painfully conscious ' of his own insignificance. A sense of inferiority ' steals over him. From every quarter innumerable ' obstacles hem him in, and limit his individual will.' There is a passage, too, in ' King Lear,' Act 1. 2. 111-149, which is luminous on the subject, and which I would gladly transcribe, if it were not over- long : will the reader refer to it, and particularly observethat Edmund'sfools ' by heavenly compulsion' exactly corresponds to Eosaline's 'portent-like' sway over her 'fool ' Biron ? Thus a great law of astro- logical science," far reaching in its scope, tremendous in its potency, is here incidentally alluded to by the poet in a woman's speech ! In the 123rd line of Act V. Sc. 2, Sydney Walker Act v. 2. 133. would change 'love-feat ' of the first Quarto and the Folios into 'love-sm'i.' In the second Quarto / is changed to s, and seat is the word given, though I have little doubt that ' suit ' was intended. I do not say that there could not be such a compound as ' love- feat,' but I much doubt whether such a phrase as ' to advance a love-feat ' ^f/exe ever penned by Shakespeare. 104 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act V. 2. 297. And what fault have the ' Globe ' editors to find with the last of the three following lines. — Act V. 2. 297? Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud : Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. ' To vail ' is found in ' Measure for Measure,' 'Hamlet,' ' Coriolanus,' 'Pericles,' and twice in ' Venus and Adonis.' Clouds are masks which hide angels from view ; when angels vail clouds, the clouds retire and the angels are revealed. ' My mask to defend my beauty,' exclaimed Cressida ; ' women are angels, wooing,' occurs in the same play; and in Sonnet XXXIII, The region cloud hath masked him from me now. Possibly the imagery was suggested to the poet by the work of some great painter. As the Princess had only asked how they were to blow like roses, and had said nothing about angels, the angel simile is plainly supererogatory ; such superfluity of sweetness, how- ever, is easily accounted for, it we bear in mind that ' honeytongued Boyet ' was the speaker. Aotv. 2. 617. I must now glance at a passage in Act V. 2. 517, which, much as it has beeii decried, has probably nothing more amiss with it than that it is not expressed in English familiar to modern ears. love's labour's lost. 105 Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now : That sport best pleases that doth least know how : Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Dies in the zeal of that which it presents : Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, When great things labouring perish in their birth. The general drift is obvious. The aim of the players is to content the audience ; they content them, but not in the way in which they intended. The diffi- culty mainly lies in the 3rd and 4th lines. What does ' contents ' mean ? The forms and fashions by which they thought to content the audience, according to what follows, ' Their form confounded &c. ? ' or simply the ' contenting ' the audience ? Whichsoever it be, much as they had set their hearts upon it, it evaporates, it vanishes — ' dies ' is the word — in the effervescence of zeal by which the several actors are carried away. It is this labouring mountain of zeal, contrasted with the ridicidus mus which it generates, which is the chief feature and indeed the fun of the performance. That a singular verb may have a plural noun for its nominative once and away Shakespearian students will not need to be reminded; but that 'contents,' bearing the meaning that it does, should have a plural at all, is both exceptional and abnormal. It may be said that the rhyme required the plural and so the plural we have. But this, though it may be a slice of the truth, is not the whole of it. Writers of the 16th Century conceded a plural to abstract nouns 106 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. to which moderns refuse one, e.g., ' courages,' ' revenges,' &c. It may be further argued that the hearers were many, and therefore the ' contents ' many. On the other hand, though there might be a thousand hsteners, but one actor could speak at one and the same time, and so ' zeal ' is in the singular. Act V. 2. B47. As touching Act V. 2. 547, Mr. Knight remarks that ' Novem, or quinquenove, was a game at dice, of ' which nine and five wera the principal throws. ' Biron, therefore, says, 'Abate a throw,' i.e. leave out ' the nine, ' and the world cannot pick out five such.' If this is so, why have the ' Globe ' editors obelized the line and printed Abate throw at novum ? Act V. 3. 760- I shall finish my notes on this play with some 754 explanation of Act V. 2. 750-754, where a certain quaintness of expression has led some scholars to fancy that they snuff the smell of corruption. The extreme parts of time extremely forms All causes to the purpose of his speed, And often at his very loose decides That which long process could not arbitrate. The general tenor of these lines, and their connexion with the remainder of the king's speech, is clear enough ; but there is some obscurity in the first two, especially in the word ' extremely,' where the fog is thickest. I shall hope to clear the air by the love's labour's lost. 107 following paraphrase : Time, the great arbitrator and judge, takes cognizance of, 'decides/ ' arbitrates/ ' all causes ' ; — a matrimonial alliance between a princess and a king is one of them — he makes ' speed ' to the accomplishment of his ' purpose.' Having reached the goal — 'the extreme parts' — which he had measured out for himself in a given cause, he gives that cause at the last its last final shape — ' extremely forms it' — * decides ' is the equivalent word in the next line, ' arbitrates ' in the next line but one : often he does hot work by regular progression from first to midst to last, according to the ordinary methodical fashion (which I cannot but think is more or less implied in the first two lines) ; he settles the matter ' at his loose,' summarily and suddenly, in the spur of a happy moment (as we say) hitting off what many long tedious hours would fail to accomplish. This, which is a common-place sentiment, couched, how- ever, in anything but common-place language, is the king's preface a propos to an offer of marriage which he now for the first time formally makes to the princess. He trusts that, though the * argument of love,' which had been ' some time on foot/ must necessarily be postponed in consequence of the sorrowful hap of the king her father's death, it imight not be 'jostled aside' from what it purposed by the black cloud which overshadowed h"er ; sooner or later the king hopes that it may be, and sooner rather 108 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. than later, if we may judge from what he says a little further on, Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. ' The latest minute of the hour ' and ' the extreme parts of time ' may be regarded as synonymous. The ladies put them off for a whole year ! ' Extreme parts of time ' indeed ! A MIDSUMMEE NIGHT's DREAM. 109 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DEEAM. In ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act II. 1. 54, we Act ii. i. 54. are nightmared by a hideous bug of a word, which, although it appears in all the original copies, and has found its way into all the editions, and has not been, so far as I am aware, challenged or suspected by any of the commentators, I am persuaded never formed part of Shakespeare's Dream, nor passed through his brain, nor was authorized by his pen ; born of carelessness and ignorance, fostered by diffidence and credulity, it is high time that this monster should be examined, exposed, exorcised from the text, and be replaced by the legitimate offspring of the poet's fancy, whose pretentions I shall now put forward for the first time, and whose rightful title I shall hope to make good, not, I admit, by any direct and positive proofs, but by negative testimony and circumstantial evidence which in my opinion well deserves to be pondered. The reader will readily call to mind those well-known drolleries spoken by Puck, 110 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me ; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And ' tailor ' cries, and falls into a cough ; And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh, And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there. Now what explanation has the annotator, what explanation has the antiquary, to offer of this ' tailor '- cry ? Dr. Johnson, the very mention of whose name raises our expectation, a man of indefatigable industry and extraordinary intellectual ability, who, when he had anything to the purpose to say, both knew how to say it and said it, has nothing more to communicate to us on this matter than is contained in the following note: ' The custom of crying 'tailor' at a sudden fall backwards I think I remember to have heard. He that slips beside his chair falls as a tailor squats upon his board.' Upon this Mr. Aldis Wright, who would be sure to give us some additional information if it were possible to give it, drily remarks, ' If this is not the true explanation, it is at least the only one which has beefl proposed.' And this is all — positively all — not a jot besides ! But this is in reality nothing; and, when a man like Dr. Johnson can say no more than that ' he thinks he remembers to have heard,' we may be pretty sure that he had no very. great confidence himself in the only explanation which he had it in his power to offer. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT's DREAM. Ill Is it conceivable — is it likely that, if this cry of ' tailor ' had been customary under certain circum- stances, and had been sufficiently well known to have been apprehended at once .by an Elizabethan audience when only thus incidentally alluded to, it would have so utterly died away as not to have left an echo behind it ? that no one should have heard it ? no one should know it ? Why, I venture to say that this is just one of those little bits of fun, which, if it had once been in vogue, would not have been easily forgotten ; it would have been talked about and laughed over and occasionally practised ; it would have passed from sire to son and been familiar as a household word ; instead of which there is no such practice, no trace — no tradition of such practice ; it is as if it had never been. Marvellous obliteration indeed ! I am little disposed, as a rule, to blench from the undoubted reading of the copies, but I cannot hold fast to the Folio version here. The high probability is that ' tailor ' is a spurious word, which through inadvertence has got possession of the place of some other word, not altogether unlike it, but more forcible and more appropriate. The original genuine word I bplieve to have been 'traitor.' Such an astounding metamorphosis will not be so much as listened to by many — I cannot expect it to be credited by any without something more than the bare affirmation of the writer. I 112 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. invite the reader's close attention, therefore, to the following dry but most significant particulars. In 'Eichard II,' Act I. 1. 102, we have an undoubted instance of 'traitor' being spelt in the first Quarto 'taitour.' It is true that in the latter part of the word we have a t, and not an I, but the second letter of the word, viz., r, has been accidentally omitted. In other words, we have a very near approach to ' tailor ; ' we have a ' traitor ' almost dressed up in the disguise of a * tailor ; ' and yet no one would be silly enough in that passage to say that ' taitour ' was meant for ' tailor,' and not rather for 'traitor.' And in this passage in ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' had we 'taitour' rather than 'tailor,' no one, I conceive, would have dreamed of adopting ' tailor ' rather than ' traitor.' But, as a matter of fact, we have ' tailor' ; we have an I in the latter part of the word and not a t. Now a t may be so mis-crossed as to be almost a facsimile of I. Between a mis-crossed t and an I there is scarcely any difference; and yet this is all that my conjecture needs to obtain for itself credibility. I may add that r is a letter not unfrequently omitted, when it holds the second place in a word : if the reader will take the great trouble to search, he will certainly find that ' beast ' is set down in one place, where there can be no question that ' breast ' A MIDSUMMER NIGHt's DREAM. H3 is intended ; that ' fiends ' has displaced ' friends ; ' and that ' Fance ' stands for ' France.' As instances -of / being used, where t should have been, we have "' Calues,' where ' Cato's ' (' Catue's) is acknowledged to be the true reading; ' succedaul ' for ' succedant,' (' 1 Henry VI ') and contrariwise ' untimety ' in ' Pericles ' is a mistake for ' untimely.' The letters I and t being frequently confounded, I am supposing no greater error on the part of 'the copyists, than has actually been made in numbers of places else- where. Thus much, then, for the anatomy of the words and the possibility of their having changed places: as regards suitability to the passage, there can be no doubt in my opinion which should have precedence. Is it likely that this superlatively wise aunt, who had just met with a stunning catastrophe and who instantly fell a-coughing to hide her confusion, would have compared herself ridiculously to a squatting tailor ? Would it not be much more consistent with her disposition, her age, her dignity, and, I may add, with the serious nature of her story, to raise against her invisible foe that fierce cry of 'traitor,' which was wont to be raised against suspected political malcontents ? ' Traitor ' rests on a distinct historical basis; 'tailor' has for its found- ation the great lexicographer's ' I-think-I-remember- to-have-heard : ' 'traitor' is intelligible; 'tailor' 114 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. inexplicable and unaccountable : ' traitor ' is full of strength and 'spirit;' 'tailor' is feeble and languid. In striking the balance between the two, it should not go for nothing, that the first edition of this play, which contains on the whole the best reading and was possibly, we are told, taken from the author's MS., was carelessly printed. Shall, then, this low squatting word, this word of needle and thread, this long-time impostor, this ridiculous antic which starts up and struts its ugliness before us, be allowed any longer to express the real indignation of a highly dignified deeply injured lady, whom I must think that Shakespeare with inimitable fun made attribute to her fantastic foe a word very different — one, which, at that period, on the occasion of every political peril, was in every one's mouth — of deep political significance and tremendous meaning; as frequently abused as it was frequently used ; a terror to the innocent no less than to the guilty — the word ' traitor,' in using which the 'wisest aunt' associated herself with kings and queens and empresses of the earth. Act m. 2. 14. The few small knots that remain may easily be untied or cut asunder. To begin with a trifling matter of punctuation: in Act III. 2. 13-15 it may be an open question, whethei" we should point, as A MIDSUMMER NIGHt's DREAM. 115 the ' Globe ' editors do, reproducing, I presume, the punctuation of the Folios, The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport Forsook his scene, and enter'd in a brake, or whether we should set the comma after ' sport ' rather than after ' presented,' to which mode I myself rather incline; but in Act IV. 1. 150, Activ. i.iso. where the same learned editors put a full stop at the end of the line, I own I have a decided preference for a hyphen, or at any rate for the first Quarto's comma; for no sooner had Lysander uttered the words, Without the peril of the Athenian law, than, having incriminated himself, he is roughly and sharply interrupted by Egeus, who exclaims Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: I beg the law, the law upon his head. A little below, the 163rd line seems to be short of a Aotiv.i.iea. syllable, not to the detriment of the sense — for Demetrius might well have said that 'his love for Hermia melted' — but to the detriment of the metre. What should we do here ? Not surely introduce some fresh word at the beginning of the line before 'melted,' as some have proposed to do, but borrow from the preceding line a syllable which it has in excess of its requirements. The linear boundary is broken up, line melts into line, the words unite their streams, in order that we may have more vividly 116 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. impressed upon us the dissolution and evanescence of Demetrius' love. The reader, who is accustomed to mark with his eye the division of the lines, may miss a syllable before 'melted,' but, as the actor, entering into the spirit of the poet's conception, disregarded the artificial boundary and repeated without a moment's pause the words 'love for Hermia melted,' the metre was as complete to the ear as the most exacting rhythmist could desire, A similar poetic artifice, I think, may sometimes be found elsewhere; in each case the metre is subor- dinated to the sense and spirit of the passage. I do not, however, recommend that any alteration should be made in the writing of the lines, which may remain just as they are. Act V. 1. 56. A word has, in all proba,bility, been lost in ^°' Act V. 1. 56—60, ' A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.' Merry and tragical I tedious and brief ! That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord ? Sense demands, if scansion does not, that there should be some epithet of 'snow' as startlingly opposite to the nature of snow, as ' hot,' the epithet of ' ice,' is to the nature of ice. The word, which has no doubt been lost in transcription, was probably a very small one, perhaps with letters, or a sound. A MIDSUMMER NIGHt's DEEAM. 117 corresponding to the termination of the word preceding it. The final letters of ' strange ' are ge ; what word more fully and fairly satisfies the conditions required than the little wot-d 'jet,' used by Shakespeare in ' 2 Henry VI,' Act II. 1. in three consecutive lines, Glou. What colour is my gown of ? Simp. Black, forsooth ; coal black as jet. King. Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of. Suff'. And yet, I think, jet did he never see. In ' Eomeo and Juliet ' we read of ' palfreys black as jet.' Perhaps, however, it would be too much to expect editors boldly to print That is, hot ice, and, wondrous strange ! jet snow, seeing that 'swart,' 'black,' 'hot,' 'red,' — the poet Claudian makes the snow blood-ied — might equally fill the gap in the text. A little further down in the same Act and Scene Act v. i. 92. exception has been taken to the 92nd Ijne, And what poor duty cannot do, noble-respect Takes it in might, not merit, on the ground that the antithesis is not sufficiently well sustained. This is not the only passage in Shakespeare where the antitheses have been adversely criticized. Perhaps the critics would do well to consider, whether they themselves may not some- times be in error in expecting the contrasts to be as sharply defined in a dramatic effusion, as they might 118 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. not unreasonably expect in a mathematical or philosophical treatise. Anyhow, -what Shakespeare says, is one thing ; what the critics think he ought to have said, is another. The main drift of the passage is unmistakeable. When persons of feeble power, from a sense of duty, do their best to please, men of noble and generous nature regard not so much the ivorth of the performance, as the strength, or perhaps rather the mighty effort, of the performers ; they accept all in good part, not because it is in the least degree meritorious, but because it is the msst that the actors are capable of. The pith of what is said is summed up in the text, ' she hath done what she could.' A line from ' Julius Osesar,' Act IV. 3. 261, deserves to be quoted, I should not urge thy duty past thy might. Compare also what is written a few lines above, 78-80, And it is nothing, nothing in the world ; Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain, To do you service. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 119 THE MEEOHANT OF VENICE. In the ' Merchant of Venice ' there is not the least Act i. i. 36. occasion to make any fuss about the Httle phrase ' worth this ' in Act I. 1. 35, as if the meaning were obscure or a line had been lost ! If Salarino chose to indicate the untold wealth which lay in the noble vessel's bottom by the modest method of a demonstrative pronoun and a significant gesture rather than by an enumeration of so many ducats, who but an Income Tax Commissioner has any right to complain ? ' It is not worth that ' is a phrase as common as it is intelligible. Our ap- praisement of the rich freight of silks and spices is enhanced rather than otherwise by the indefiniteness with which it is described. And yet, ^s compared with 'nothing,' 'this' has almost an appreciable value. Plays were written for the stage, not for the study. The actor could give a good account of ' this,' if the annotator cannot. The deictic use of the pronoun is eminently dramatic. Nor in Act II. 7. 69 is there any need either for Aot ii. 7. 69. the prosody or for the syntax to foist into the text 120 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Dr. Johnson's conjecture * tombs ' in lieu of Gilded timber do worms infold. If it be objected that the second syllable of ' timber,' occurring in the central pause of the verse, violates the caesura and is a metrical superfluity, how, then, are we to deal with those numerous lines in Shakespeare, where the termination of 'father,' ' brother,' ' daughter,' ' spinster,' ' speaker,' ' sworder,' ' thunder ' — all quotations — is equally censurable or equally justifiable ? What is admitted in a deca- syllabic line, must be admitted in a heptasyllabic. The termination of ' timber ' may be so slurred — ' timbre ' — as to be almost annihilated in pronunci- ation ; or ' timber ' may form part of a dactyl in the second place, or an anapaest in the third ; the melody of the verse is not marred by such occasional variations. As for the concord, the plural idea contained in ' timber ' justifies the use of a plural verb following it. Even in itself the word strikes me as preferable to the great lexicographer's. It is simple, quaint, original, expressive ; it has a smack of the antique and a sepulchral significance. I am not sure that a little irony was not intended by the rich coffin being described as mere ' gilded timber.' All the copies both of the Quarto and of the Folio have it. Their combined authority should have been sufiicient to save it from being ostracized from the text. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 121 With more reason it has been asked, how are we Act in. 2. 99. to understand the words that are printed in italics in the passage which I shall next quote from Act III. 2. 97-101 ? Thus ornament is but the guiled shore To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf Veiling an Indian leauly ; in a word, The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. The beauteous scarf raises a presumption that the figure veiled by it is a thing of beauty; the context requires that it should be no beautij at all, or if a beauty, one of such a questionable kind, that, not- withstanding her beauty, she would be not an object of desire. It has been thought that 'Indian,' parted off by a semicolon from ' beauty,' would satisfy the conditions required, but that 'Indian beauty ' cannot. Is this so ? The stress is on the epithets ; it was not the sea in itself that was objected to, but the kind of sea ; nor yet the beauty, but the kind of beauty ; the sea was dangerous ; the beauty 'Indian,' and 'Indian' was synonymous with •coloured,' and colour was detested — many yet living know how cordially — by a white- skinned race. But in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the prejudice against colour far exceeded any thing that we can dream of in these more civilized and catholic times ; 'Indian beauty' would be received with disappoint- 122 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ment, with aversion, with disgust. In this very play Portia says of the Prince of Morocco that, even if he had the condition of a saint, in respect of his complexion she should regard him as a devil. Colour alone, be it observed, would be sufficient to damn him. Would facial beauty redeem, when moral beauty could not ? Not the grandest contour of countenance, not the most finely-moulded features, not the most pleasing expression, would compensate in the eyes of Shakespeare's contempo- raries for that fatal stain in the skin which nothing could obliterate. The most celestial seraph, if of the wrong colour, if dusky, would be pronounced a spirit of darkness. ' Sooty bosom '• — ' tawny front ' — ' swarthy complexion ' — ■' woman coloured ill ' — such are some of the expressions which attest the feeling in Shakespeare's day. The beauteous scarf indeed would well beseem an Indian beauty; the scarf would strike the eye at once and raise the expectation ; but, the moment it was withdrawn, what a contrast ! the * beauty ' would be lost in the colour of her skin. This explanation seems to me sufficient, but to those who are not yet satisfied I will offer, as an alternative, another explanation which is formed on considerations derived from Indian idiosyncracy. I shall suppose that the physiolbgical rather than the physiognomical features are alluded to ; the THE MEECHAIMT OF VENICE. 123 Indian's soul was as dark as his body ; his character as evil-hued as his complexion^such at least was the vulgar prejudice. It is not a little curious that, whenever Shakespeare makes mention of Indian, he almost invariably does so in terms »f disparagement ! ' Savages and men of Ind ' are coupled together in the ' Tempest ' ; in ' Love's Labour's Lost ' we read of ' a rude and savage man of Ind ;' in ' Othello ' ' base ' is the epithet attributed to him '; in ' King Henry VIII ' the allusion is disgustingly contemptuous. Now, if such were the estimation in which the Indian men were held, is it likely that the Indian women would be more highly accounted ? Where the men are bad, the women are generally worse. And the noted beauty — she who was admired, courted, beautifully scarved and apparelled — she would be sure to have her full share of feminine weakness, and feminine wickedness — aye, and would be credited with having it. Deceitful as the serpent, stealthy as the tiger, their natures hot and fiery, their sunshine uncertain and transient, their tempers liable to sudden and violent outbursts, their rage like the hurricane, their passions like the tempest — these eastern Jezebels might not unnaturally be regarded as not less dan- gerous than the dangerous sea with its guiled shore, which had just been previously mentioned. It was some such a one as this, 'albeit a ' brow of Egypt,' who wrang from Antony the cry, 124 HARP KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. Betray'd T am. this false soul of Egypt ! this grave charm, — Whose eyes becked forth my wars, and call'd them home ; Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end — Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. If, then, ' Indian ' may hold its place by reason of the infamy which was usually associated with the name by Shakespeare's contemporaries, much more may ' Indian beauty ' be tolerated, because such a one might be regarded, and justly regarded, as a dan- gerous body, an arch and subtle seductress, a very mouth of hell, and dark pit of perdition. If, however, ' beauty ' may not pass, taken in connexion with 'Indian,' not all the acting and authority of Mr. Irving will induce us to retain it, divorced by Theo- bald's semicolon from that adjective. Act III. 2. Notwithstanding the strictures of certain critics, 160-67. * I cannot see anything that is amiss in the following lines from Act III. 2. 160-167, But the full sum of me Is sum of *something, which, to term in gross, Is an unlesson'd girl, unsohcpl'd, unpractis'd ; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn ; happier than this. She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king. *So Q. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 125 Portia's meaning is clear enough. Whether we read ' something ' with the Quarto, or ' nothing ' with the Folio, will depend on whether we reckon an ' unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd,' to be a small entity, or an utter nonentity. Either is tolerable, but there is more sense in the former, to which, therefore, I give the preference. The occurrence of a short line in the passage affords no reasonable ground for suspecting its integrity ; while, as for the sentences in which the ascending scale of happiness is described, if they are not modelled in that precise form which has since beCQme common, they are none the less likely on that account to have been Shakespeare's, as his patterns, his style, his workmanship, almost invariably bear the impress of originality. Different opinions have been entertained concern- Aotiii.3.26- . 29, ing the punctuation in Act III. 3, 26-29. I conceive that Antonio was intended to say that the Duke could not refuse to let the law take its course because of the commercial dealings which strangers had with the Venetians; if law were denied, the denial would greatly reflect on the justice of the state. Accord- ingly, the colon, which I find at the end of the first line, I transfer to the middle of the third ; The Duke cannot deny the course of law For the commodity that strangers have With us in Venice : if it be denied, Will much impeach the justice of his state. 126 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. It was the omission of the pronoun-subject in the last hne which caused editors to punctuate other- wise: they could only find a subject for the verb ' impeach ' in the noun ' commodity ' ; yet they might have recollected such texts as By my troth, 's not so good ; ' Much Ado About Nothing,' Act III. 4. 9. 19 ; 'Tis his own blame ; hath put himself from rest ; ' King Lear,' Act II. 4. 293 ; Brut. Has said enough. Sic. Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer As traitors do. ' Coriolanug,' Act III. 1. 161-62 ; and 'Merchant of Venice,' Act I. 1. 98; 'King Henry VIII,' Act III. 1. 119 ; ' Pericles,' Act II. 1. 60. Capell, I find, long ago proposed the same arrangement ; only he, at a loss for a nominative case for the verb ' impeach,' fabricated one, reading ' 'Twill impeach.' This interpolation vitiated an otherwise faultless proposal. Act III. 5.78- Am I too easily satisfied, or are the critics too 83 fastidious, I in accepting, they in rejecting, the little phrase ' mean it ' in the following passage ? — Act III. 5. 78-83— It is very meet The lord Bassanio Hye ain upright life ; For, having such a blessmg in his lady, He finds the joys of heaven here on earth ; And if on earth he do niot mean it, then In reason he should never come to heaven. THE MERCHANT OP VENICE. 127 Why should not ' mean it ' refer to the words con- tained in the second of the above Hnes, and be a concise mode of saying ' mean to live an upright life ? The expression is one which is in common parlance, and I need scarcely say that the theatre echoes the language of the people. All the Folios and all the Quartos have * masters ' Act iv. i. 50. in Act IV. 1. 50, For affection, Masters of passion, sways it to the mood Of what it Ukes or loathes. Yet in many editions ' mistress ' is the established reading. Perhaps ' masters ' was a typographical error for ' master,' the masculine form serving equally for both genders — Portia speaks of herself as ' master of her servants ' — perhaps ' masters ' may be not a noun at all, but a verb followed by the preposition ' of,' just as ' like,' ' bear,' ' determine,' ' desire,' and many other verbs, are in Shakespeai-e. We may allow for the use of an archaism, if it is authorized by all the copies, if it is susceptible of explanation, if it can be fortified with analogous examples. Our smooth and uniform emendations poorly replace the rough, vigorous, oft-varying phraseology of the great master whose works we presume to criticize. The last passage which I shall notice is in Act IV. Act iv. 1.379. 1. 379, where I demur both to the punctuation and 128 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. to the explanation given by the Cambridge editors, and I acquiesce in Mr. Knight's more correct arrangement. So please my lord the Duke and all the court To quit the fine for one half of his goods ; I am content, so he will let me have The other half in use, to render it. Upon his death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter. Antonio intercedes with the Duke to remit the public fine altogether, expressing himself as satisfied, if his adversary would let him have the portion, which the law awarded him, in use. To have said that he was content that the Duke should remit the fine would have been to impertinently interfere with the Duke's prerogative. But what does he mean by his having the other half in use ? Does Antonio suggest that Shylock should lend him gratis that half of his fortune, which he (Antonio) might legally have appropriated, but his legal right to which he had waived on the under- standing that it should fall to Lorenzo and Jessica at Shylock's death ? But this would be a queer sort of 'favour ' — the word is Antonio's own — and would be neither very disinterested nor very generous. Was it Antonio's wish, then, to be a sort of trustee of the money for Lorenzo and Jessica — for this view has been taken by some — not, I suppose, letting it THE MEECHANT OF VENICE. 129 lie idle, but making it productive, either by lending it out at interest, or, if it be thought that Antonio would not do that, by trading with it — anyhow reserving it, whether the principal only or both principal and interest, for Shylock's son-in-law and daughter at Shylock's death ? But neither can I see in what sense this would be a favour done to the Jew. What, then, was the favour which the Jew and his race would both understand and 'thoroughly appre- ciate ? Why, plainly, that the half which Antonio might have alienated from him, 'Should be his still, not in respect of the principal, but in respect of the interest, which Antonio, using the principal, under- took to pay him, promising to hand over the whole to the young people at Shylock's death. But it has been objected that such an arrangement would be opposed to Antonio's principles and practice. True ; but Antonio himself tell us that he would ' break a custom ' and pay Shyloc^ interest, in order to supply the ' ripe wants of a friend ; ' and he would not scruple to ' break a custom ' yet again, in order to ensure a provision for Lorenzo and Jessica — a pro- vision quite independent of what Shylock possessed, which, though settled on the young couple by deed, could not be said to be certain, as Shylock, though he would not squander it, might by misadventure lose it. Antonio's wish was to let Shylock have a life- 130 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. interest in what, as having been given back to him, could only be regarded as his ; yet at the same time to secure the principal for the Jew's kith and kin, lest, taking vengeance on them, he should disinherit them. What advantage, then, it has been asked, what present advantage had Lorenzo and Jessica ? I might answer that they had expected none — they wanted none. Jessica was Lorenzo's golden treasure, more precious to him than argosies and ducats. But, though he had no present advantage, he had a fortune in prospect; he was sure of what was in Antonio's safe-keeping ; he was entitled also by deed to what Shylock might die possessed of. Hence, when Nerissa says There do I give to you and Jessica, From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, After his death, of all he dies possessed of, Lorenzo replies, Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people. AS YOU LIKE IT. 131 AS YOU LIKE IT. There is no question about the meaning — there Act i.i. 1-5. should be none about the punctuation and con- struction — of the opening Hnes of 'As You Like It' (Act I. 1. 1-5). We have merely to put a semicolon after 'fashion,' and to suppose that the pronoun, the subject of the verb 'bequeathed,' has been omitted, not accidentally by the transcriber, but designedly by the author, and the play will commence in that easy familiar colloquial style which is characteristic of Shakespeare, and as might be expected in an interchange of words between an old servant and his young master : As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion ; bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well : and there begins my sadness. Some have fancied, because the initial letters of * bequeathed ' bear a near resemblance to the pronoun ' he,' that the pronoun may have been omitted in the copying by mistake, but I have already hinted that there is reason, and I may now add that there is 132 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. abundant Shakespearian precedent, for the ellipse, while there is neither authority here nor yet absolute necessity for its expression. Act II. 4.1. In Act II. 4. 1. Kosalind's exclamation 'How merry are my spirits !' has been changed by editors into 'How weary are my spirits!' Such a radical change, if not demanded by urgent necessity, cannot be too strongly reprobated. I Confess that I cannot see sufficient justification for taking so great a liberty with the text. We may grant that Rosalind was as weary as any of the little band, but between feeling weary and making an avowal of weariness there is a vast difference. It is scarcely credible that Rosalind would be the first to show the white feather and demoralize by her example the whole company ; her character as a woman, the character which she assumed as a man, forbid us to think so ; she made light of difiiculty and laughed at misfortune ; and this, quite as much because she was the high-ispirited girl that she was, as because she felt that it devolved upon her to encourage the others. It is true that she said to Touchstone — I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and to cry like a woman ; but this admission, itself redolent of fun and provo- cative of laughter, was wrung from her sympathy by a plaint which he had uttered — and marvellously AS YOU LIKE IT. 133 well was it timed to brace him up and make him speak and act like a man — but immediately after, as if repenting of her own confession, she justified her first utterance by adding But I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat. Why, then, have editors altered the reading of the Folios ? I presume, because Touchstone in his answer happens to mention the word ' weary.' But Touchstone's confession of leg-weariness is no proof that Eosalind complained of spirit-weariness ; the most that Touchstone's words can prove is that Eosalind made some allusion to the state of her spirits : she struck a cheerful note ; he a mournful one ; this chimes in with her finale to Touchstone, 'Aye, be content, good Touchstone,' which I may here parody by saying, ' Be content, good critics.' But the passage in the play, which of all others '*^''*^,^^-, '^• has excited the most lively discussion, and has occasioned the greatest diversity of opinion, and which certainly requires comment, perhaps change, occurs in Act II. 7. 53-57, in the course of a famous speech of Jaques : He that a fool doth very wisely hit Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Seem senseless of the bob ; if not, The wise man's folly is anatomized Even by the squandering glances of the fool. fi3-57. 134 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Here the critics, chafing at what they are pleased to call the ' halting sense and limping metre,' change ' seeme senselesse,' which is the ekaot reading of the Fohos, into ' Not to seem senseless,' which is Theobald's conjecture ; but not even Theobald's great name can reconcile us to such a startling innovation, unless it be dictated by imperious neces- sity. Does, then, the line really need Theobald's crutch ? may it not stand without any such artificial prop, and that, without resorting to the questionable ruse of connecting * very foolishly ' with the subor- dinate clause which follows ? It is not at all surprising that * very wisely ' should be applied to the fool, seeing that, with an arrow shot at a venture, he had well hit a weak joint in the wise man's harness ; but it does seem at first sight a little strange that ' very foolishly' — which is plainly opposed to 'very wisely' — should be attributed to the wise man. It certainly was not foolish of the wise man to counterfeit insen- sibility ; for it would certainly never have done for him to lay himself open to a fool, who would have covered him with mud and crowed over him eternally, on the strength of having, at a chance gathering, by a chance utterance of the moment, touched some exceptional weakness in his character ; nor can the allusion be to any awkwardness, or sheepishness, as we sometimes term it, of look and manner on the part of the wise man, while he strove to hide the AS YOU LIKE IT. 135 workings of his heart; for this would not have escaped the sharp eye of the fool, and would only have made him more than ever a butt for ridicule. No ; the force of the words lies not in the fact of his dissembling, but in the fashion — the manner of it. He is hit, yet he cries, ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! ;' he smarts, yet he smiles ; he is lashed, yet he laughs ; any amount of castigation he is ready to face out with any amount of cachinnation ; no one knows it but himself; but, if it were possible for one, after observing his face and manner, to look into his heart and see there his true condition, how that his laughter was forced and his mirth simulated, that he was a masquer and mummer for the nonce in order not to be made a fool of to no purpose by a fool, would he not admit that, though there was wisdom in the dissembling, there was very foatishness in the manner of it ; yet this show of folly, this foolishness of laughter, was his only chance, situated as he was. Well, then, he made a virtue of necessity — put a fool's vizor on his face, and acted like a wise man. The end justified the means. A little further down, in Jaques' speech, there is Aot^^iL 7. another line which has been turned and twisted in every imaginable way by the emendators without having been straightened to the satisfaction of any of 136 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. them. It is the last line of the following passage, Why, who cries out on pride That can therein tax any private party ? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, Till that the wearie verie meanes do ebb ? In this case the critics do not 'quarrel with the short line of the passage ; what they object to, is the words printed in italics, and yet not so much the words themselves, as the peculiar collocation of them — the interposition of the adjective ' very ' between ' the weary ' on the one hand and ' means ' on the other. But, supposing that it wfere intended to lay special emphasis on 'means,' where could 'very' have stood more fitly than where it now stands? Had it been placed immediately after the definite article and before the adjective ' weary,' it would most certainly have been taken for nothing more than an adverb intensifying the adjective 'weary.' As it is, there is no possibility of any such mis- apprehension ; there is no ambiguity; its position effectually ministers to its purpose, which is to emphasize the noun ' means,' and the noun ' means' requires emphasization. For is- it not strange that the great sea should have its limits, its billows should weary and break, it swellings should subside ; yet of pride there should be no abatement, weariness, or cessation ? Not from want of will does it fail, but only from want of ' means '—' means ' referring AS YOU LIKE IT. 137 partly, perhaps, to the person's physical powers, but also, as the context shows, to his purse and property. Now the eccentric position and undoubted force of ' very ' cause the necessary stress to be laid on ' means.' The very means of pride must weary and ebb ere its great swelling flood subside. Not much unlike is the position of ' very ' in the phrase • this same very day,' which phrase actually occurs in ' King Eichard III.' The explanation which I have given seems reasonable and sufficient ; yet the notion that the line is faulty has got such a grip pn the critics, that probably a new generation must arise, before the mists of prejudice will be dissipated and the place will have a chance of being looked at in the clear atmosphere of an impartial judgment. I cannot agree with Mr. Aldis Wright, when, inA-otni.2.207. annotating on Eosalind's words ' one inch of delay is a South-sea of discovery ' in Act III. 2. 207, he says, ' If you delay the least to satisfy my curiosity, I shall ask you in the interval so many questions, that to answer them will be like embarking on a voyage of discovery over a wide and unknown ocean.' It seems to me that, just as we, when on the tiptoe of expectation, are wont to say, ' Every minute seems an age,' so she, taking, however, jocularly as her unit of measurement inches rather than minutes, protests that she is so eager to know who the forest poet is, 138 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. that a single inch of further delay would be to her as a vast unmeasurable distance, involving infinite uncon- scionable delay — in fact, (and here there is an allusion to one of the great wonders of the day) it would be to her as it were a' South sect of discovery.' Such, and no less, would be the delay, as measured by Rosalind's impatient eagerness. Act m. 6. 7. We need not start, as some have done, at a phrase used by Silvius in Act III. 5. 7, where he appeals to Phebe thus touchingly, will you sterner be Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ? He who ' dies and lives ' means ' he who spends his whole life long in such and such a way.' The order of the words may seem somewhat preposterous ; yet that Chaucer should have so ordered them is a conclusive proof that it is both old and genuine; and that Shakespeare should have observed the order is a further proof that in his day it was neither quite obsolete, nor thought by him unworthy of preservation. We may look upon the phrase as an archaism and explain it as a hysteron-proteron, but we may not condemn it as a solcecism, much less as a corruption. Such vagaries of the English language are to be noted, ijot branded. I need scarcely say that Shakespeare elsewhere uses the expression in its usual reversed form, ' lives and dies,' AS YOU LIKE IT. 139 Further down, in the 23rd line, where Phebe Act m. 5. 23. says lean but upon a rush, The cicatrice and capable impressure The palm some moment keeps, ' capable impressure ' can only mean 'the impression which can be received from so soft and weak a substance as a rush.' The word ' capable ' is used frequently in Shakespeare — in 'The Tempest,' Act I. 2. 352-58, Abhorred slave. Which any print of goodness wilt not take. Being capable of all ill, where ' capable ' asserts positively what in the previous line had been asserted negatively, and signifies • able to take a print ' — whether of good, or of evO, being determined by the context ; in 'Hamlet,' Act III. 4. 126, His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, Would make them capable, i.e., ' able to receive the doctrine preached ' and so ' impressionable ;' in ' Winter's Tale,' Act IV. 4. 791, If thou beest capable of things seritjus, i.e., 'able to receive' and so to comprehend them; and in ' King Henry IV ' Northumberland was advised that his son's flesh was ' capable of wounds and scars '; and in ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act I. 1. 106, heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour. 140 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. On the other hand, it is used differently in ' Hamlet,' where an actor is said to be ' capable of nothing,' i.e., ' able to do nothing,' * btit inexplicable dumb shows and noise.' Differently .still it must be used in the phrase * capable impresslire,' where, however, ' capable ' is added, in order to express the amount of power or force exerted by thB rush ; the impression was just as much as was possible, where none, it might be thought, was possible. ' Capable,' there- fore, is no mere otiose epithet, but is both significant and potential. For ' impressure ' we may go to ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act IV. 5. 131, by Jove multipotent, Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member Wherein my sword had not impressure made Of our rank feud. Act V. 4. 4, The last passage which I shall notice in this play is in Act V. 4. 4, where the meaning is clear, though the expression is a little cloudy, I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not, As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. Here we have as striking an example of what is called ' pregnant locution ' as we can find anywhere. They know that they fear ; but, as touching their hope, they are not certain; nay, they have consider- able doubt ; and, inasmuch as in their doubt fear predominates, the poet, without any circumlocution, goes to the pith of it, and says tersely, albeit perhaps somewhat darkly, they fear they hope. THE TAMING OF THE SHEEW. 141 THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. In the Induction of the 'Taming Of The Shrew' induction. Sc a little word occurs in the 17th lihe of the first " " Scene in connection with the name of a hound, which is a puzzle alike to the sportsman and to the scholar, Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds ; Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd ; And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed brach. The last ' brach ' is intelligible enough, but what is the meaning of the first ? It can hardly be used in its ordinary Shakespearian sense of a bitch-hound, firstly, because Merriman is immediately after desig- nated as the ' poor cur, ' which would seem of itself a sufficient designation of him, and, secondly, because it is highly improbable that Shakespeare would have introduced the same not very common word without cogent reason in two consecutive lines. Unless, therefore, it is surmised that ' brach ' is an old verb, no traces of which remain, indicating some remedial operation which was applied to embossed hounds, we are driven to the region of conjecture to 142 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. find the word which was in all probability intended by the author. If, as some would have it, embossment was a swelling of the legs or joints from overrunning, it might have been customary to bandage the poor beast that was so afflicted, and ' brace ' in this sense would approximate to the reading of the copies ; or, if a fomentation of salt and water were prescribed by the veterinary surgeons of the day, there is an old verb ' brack ' which would come nearer still. ' Drench ' would be a licentious and rambling conjecture, but not an impossible injunction. For my own part, I think that we have a clue to the meaning in the line which follows, where we read And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed brach. I imagine that Merriman had been coupled with the deep-mouthed brach, and now tljat Merriman was disabled it was intended that Clowder should take his place ; it was necessary, therefore, to unfasten Merriman's coupling chain — to part him off, that Clowder might be coupled in his stead. I think that ' break ' may very well have been used in this sense ; and, as regards the spelling, even if there were not a phonetic relationship between it and ' brach,' it would not be surprising, considering tlje spelling to be found from time to time in the Folios and the Quartos, if ' break' or 'brake' had been spelt ' brach ' THE TAMING OF THE SHBEW. 143 just as elsewhere ' eke ' is printed ' ech,' and ' ache ' ' ake.' Upon the whole, then, I am inclined to read Break Merriman, the poor cur is embossed, And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed brach. A little further on in the same Scene, there is induction. So. some doubt as to what should be the reading in the 64th line, Persuade him that he has been lunatic, And, when he says he is, say that he dreams. If these words are to stand, they can only mean that Sly, amazed at the outward transformation of himself and of all around him, when told that he had been beside himself, replies that he must be so still. This, however, he does not do, nor perhaps was it contemplated that he should do. The easiest way of unravelling the difficulty is to suppose that • that ' has been shifted from its proper position, and that the words originally stood thus, And when he says that he is, say he dreams, * that he is ' being, of course, equivalent to * who he is.' A kind of resemblance, however, between ' Sly ' and ' say ' has led some to conjecture And when he says he ia Sly, say that he dreams, and in support of this view it has been urged that Sly does say ' I am Christophero Sly.' But a question like this will be thought too frivolous to discuss, save by those who are determined that nothing, if they can help it, shall be set down in 144 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. an edition of Shakespeare, which was not in all probability authorized by Shakespeare. Passing from the Induction to the body of the play, we stumble Act 1. 2.^6-7. upon an extraordinary word in Act I. 2. 6-7, which in my first edition I was disposed to think must have been a mistake of the copyist, and I ventured to suggest that, what Grumio said to Petruchio, was, not ' Is there any man has rebused ijour worship ? but ' Is there any man has rohhed us, your worship V But I am now inclined to believe that 'rebused' is a participle forged by Shakespeare from the noun ' rebus ' for Grumio's especial benefit. For what is 'rebus?' It is defined to be an enigmatical representation by the use of figures and pictures instead of words. Camden tells us that the ' rebus ' was in great esteem among our forefathers, and he was nohodij who could not hammer out of his name an invention by this wit-craft, and picture it accordingly. To ' rebus ' Petruchio, therefore, might be to exhibit him by some more or less telling symbolical representation of him ; and what more striking representation of him, at least to Grumio's thinking, than as a man running amuck of everybody ? When, therefore, they came to a standstill at the gate, and Petruchio bade Grumio knock, butc did not expressly tell him to knock at the gate, Grumio, affecting not to under- stand, or rather purposely misunderstanding, jocularly exclaims, 'Knock, ,sir! Whom should I THE TAMING OF THE SHREW* 145 knock ? Is there any man has rebused ydur worship ? ' i.e., Has any one been taking your worship off? Has any one been playing your worship's mad pranks and dealing cuffs and blows right and left ? Who — where — is he, that I may give him, as you direct, the castigation he deserves ? There would be some fun in such an innuendo ; nor would such sparring be inconsistent with the relations which subsisted betwen Grumio and Petruchio. Upori the whole, then, I consider that ' rebused ' must be numbered among Shakespeare's aTra^ Xsyo^ew : its value can only be appreciated after we have familiarized ourselves with its use. Twenty lines lower down Grumio has again, I Act i. 2. so. think, the misfortune to be misunderstood owing to inaccurate pointing : what I conceive he should say, is Nay, 'tis no matter, Sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service ! Look you, Sir, he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, Sir. I have placed a note of exclamation after ' service ' instead of the usual comma, because I believe that the conditional clause is used elliptically, just as it very frequently is in common conversation, and as we might expect it to be sometimes found in dramatic dialogue ; the same construction occurs in 'Merchant 146 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. of Venice,' Act II. 2. 166, Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book I shall have good fortune ! and thus too some think we should point — though I am not of the number — in another passage in ' Merchant of Venice,' Act III. 2. 321, All debts are cleared between you and I. If I might but see you at my death ! and thus too we certainly should point in ' 2 Henry IV,' Act II. 4. 409, where Doll should say I cannot speak ; if my heart be not ready to burst ! Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Act III. 2. 16. The next passage which I shall notice is Act III. 2, 16, where a seeming incompleteness of metre, rather than an impossibility of finding a meaning, has excited a suspicion that there is some imperfection in the text. The metrical dif&culty, however, has been exaggerated. In scanning the line Make friends, invite, and proclaim the banns, the easiest way is to make ' and proclaim ' pass as an anapsest, just like ' and I challenge law ' in * Kichard II,' Act II. 3. 134 ; ' which torments me ' in ' Cymbeline ;' ' or perform my bidding ' in 'Pericles ;' ' he desires,' * art thou certain,' and many other instances which the critic is compelled to respect because they cannot possibly be otherwise dealt with ; nor would it be wonderful, if we had a short line THE TAMING OF THE SHEEW. 147 here, just as we have a little Idwer down in this same Scene in the 233rd line, She is my goods, my chattels ; she is my house My household stuff, my field, my bam. But there is another possible mode of scanning the line, viz., by pronouncing 'friends' in the time of a dissyllable, in which case ' invite ' will be accen- tuated on the penultimate, just as ' congealed,' 'excuse' (the verb), 'oppose,' 'infect,' 'confirmed,' ' expire,' sometimes are in Shakespeare. It is a curious coincidence, which I wil| give the critic to chew, that there is another line in this very play, having ' friend ' in it, where the verse seems to halt for lack of a syllable. By giving a dissyllabic value to ' friends ' in Act I. 2. 190, No, say'st me so, friend ? What countryman ? we manage to get over a seeming difficulty there also. This mode of solving the problem cannot be deemed absolutely impossible in Shakespeare, where so many monosyllables are similarly treated ; but for my own part I prefer to scan in the fashion which I first indicated. As regards the meaning, which is the next thing that we have to settle, we may either accept the punctuation of the "Folios, interpose a comma betwixt ' make friends ' and ' invite,' and understand the words to mean that Petruchio led every one to believe that he was a bona fide suitor, not only by his attention to the lady he was courting. 148 HAED KNOTS IN SHAEESPEABE. but by making friends among the kinsfolk and acquaintance of her family, or we may disregard the Folios' comma, and take ' make friends invite ' as all belonging to one sentence, in which case the meaning will be that Petruchio caused the friends of the various ladies he wooed to issue invitations, as if for the wedding ; and this is what Petruchio seems to have done ; for does he not say in Act II. 1. 318, Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests ? Upon the whole, considering the licence which Shakespeare allows himself in his versification, and the many rare quaint and curious phrases which are to be found in his plays, I should not have thought it necessary so laboriously to defend this line, as it stands in the first Folio, were it not that it has been set down in the proscription-list of the critics. Act IV, 2. 69- Once more, in Act IV. 2. 59-62, where Biondello exclaims, master, master, I have watched so long That I am dog-weary ; but at last I spied An ancient angel coming down the hill Will serve the turn, the critics regard ' angel ' with Sadducsean distrust ; but is not Biondello true to his character for merriment and fun, when, to the amusement and laughter of the audience, he declares that a special providence — a sort of Deus ex machina — an angel from THE TAMING OP THE SHREW. 149 heaven, had come to do what ? — to enable Tranio to make good his personation of Lucentio, and to enable Lucentio to carry through his love intrigue ! Or Biondello might simply have ineant to intimate that, in the extremity of his weariness, the ancient coming down from the high hill ^svas in his eyes as an angel coming down from heaven. These angelic comparisons frequently recur in Shakespeare. Any- how, whatever were Biondello's thoughts when first he spied the venerable father, it is certain that, at the time of his speaking, the human being who was wanted, rather than the superhuman who was not, was uppermost in his mind ; for in right matter-of-fact business fashion, if with some lack of reverence, he says, ' he will serve the turn.' Better retain ' angel,' and explain so, than exchange it for either ' angel,' a lure, or ' engle,' a gull. 160 HARD KNOTS IN siAKESPEABE. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. Act 1. 1.179. In 'All's Well That Ends Well' I cannot but think that the Cambridge editors have gone a little beyond the mark, when in a note on the line, Not my virginity yet, in Act I. 1. 179, they go so far as to say, ' it cannot be doubted that there is some omission here.' It cannot be doubted that there is a somewhat abrupt transition from one theme to another, which may displease scholars, accustomed rather to regular argumentation and logical conclusion than to desultory conversation, and who perhaps hardly make sufficient allowance for the quick and sudden evolutions of feminine eristics ; but, if Helen could explain her own meaning, she might insist that there was a very real connection between speech on her virginity and speculation on Bertram's court amours; possibly she meant to intimate that she was content to remain a spinster, till Bertram ceased to be a bachelor ; though there was .every probability of his becoming entangled in engagements where there would be so much to engage him, still she would all's well that ends well. 151 wait and see. If this were her meaning, the thread of her discourse would hardly be hroken at all. But suppose that it were otherwise ; can we wonder that she should not desire to prolong conversation on a subject so delicate, and touching herself so nearly, with a fellow like ParoUes, whose rollicking style and libertine utterances were neither very elegant nor very edifying ? She shifted her ground, therefore. Grant this, and what was she to talk about ? What topic more natural for her, what more likely to divert and interest ParoUes, than that of Bertram's reception, the sensation that he would cause, the flirtations, intrigues, love-makings, heart-burnings, jealousies, quarrellings, in fact, all the sunshine and shade, the sweets and bitters of the court ? A short line here is surely not out of place, where the subject is cut short — where there is a break, a pause — perhaps a silent wish, a secret sigh ; where at any rate there is a marked crisis in the conversation, and Helen has to extemporize another more appropriate but not less engaging topic. To what particular portion of ParoUes speech she referred, when she said ' Not my virginity yet ; ' whether the balance inclines in favour of ' I will not anything with my virginity yet,' or 'Not a withered pear is my virginity yet,' or ' I will not off with my virginity yet,' let those decide who have the eye to discern. 152 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act 1. 1. 237- I will pass on from such a nice question to two passages in the latter part of the same Scene — in both cases Helen is the spokeswoman — where the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare again hoist their danger signals, and make us inquire what is the matter. We are told that our progress is seriously blocked in the 237th and 238th lines, The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join hke hkes and kiss like native things. In both these lines literary engineers have consulted long and anxiously as to what had best be done, and various alterations have been proposed, where, perhaps, after all none may be required. I can see two ways of clearing the passage without so much as altering a letter. In the first place, ' space,' a singular noun, may be treated as an accusative of measurement, space, distance, rather than, as it is usually supposed to be, the direct object governed by the transitive verb ' brings ; ' the noun which that verb governs has to be supplied ; whatever we take it to be, whether ' objects,' or 'beings,' or what, nature brings them across, or through, the mightiest space, to join, just as if they were likes, nay, to kiss, just as if they had had but one original. all's well that ends well. 163 Or, in the second place, ' space ' may be treated as virtually a plural, according to that well-known canon which allows the plural of words ending in se, ss, ce, or even ge, to be at times assimilated to the form of the singular. In this case, the meaning of the word is accommodated to the sense which is required ; the abstract is put for the concrete; the 'mightiest space ' will signify not the interval which separates, or the various portions of it which are effaced as the two bodies move towards each other, but the objects themselves ivMch are so separated, whose junction and osculation nature effects. A fine Catholic doctrine, which no doubt Shakespeare as much commended as Helen at the time cherished. In the words that follow, Act I. 1. 239- 241. Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose What hath been cannot be, it has been assumed that the negative clause, ' what hath not been,' must have been in some form in the original, rather than the affirmative one, ' what hath been.' But why should not Shakespeare have intended to intimate that some refuse to believe that a thing can be, which, in point of fact, has already been, although thexj may not have seen or heard it ? It is man who cries ' Impossible ; ' nature proclaims ' It hath been — it can be.' The old saw — 'the thing 154 HABD KNOTS IN SHAEESPEAEB. which has been, it is that which shall be.' Man's miracles are Nature's laws. And here it may not be amiss to transcribe one or two examples from Shakespeare, where nouns are used as plurals without possessing the plural suf&x : Than other princess can, ' Tempest,' Act I. 2. 173 ; As blanks, benevolence, and I wot not what, ' Eichard II,' Act II. 1. 250 ; A thousand of his people butchered ; Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, ' 1 Henry IV,' Act I. 1. 42-43 ; Where are the evidence that do accuse me ? ' Richard III,' Act I. 4. 188. Act 1. 2. 31- But to resume : there is a tiassaee in Act I. 2. 31- 45, where the King thus finely describes the character of Bertram's father ; In his youth He had the wit which I can well observe To-day in our young lords ; but they may jest Till their own scorn return to them unnoted Ere they can hide their levity in honour ; So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness Were in Ms pride or sharpness ; if they were. An equal had awaked them .; and his honour. Clock to itself, knew the true minute when Exception bid him speak, and at this time His tongue oley'd Ms hand; who were below him He used as creatures of another place And bowed his eminent top to their low ranks, Making them proud of his humility. In their poor praise he humbhd. all's well that ends well. 155 Not a line of this portrait but has been drawn by the hand of a consummate artist ; yet parts of it have not escaped criticism, as wanting in distinctness, or as inappropriate, or as having been tampered with by an inferior hand — the parts which I have underKned, for instance — the 36th Hne, where, however, I think I read the great limner's meaning aright, when I understand him to tell us that Bertram's father was such a model of courtesy, that ho could be proud without being contemptuous, sharp without being bitter — the 41st line, where, however, I recognize the strictest horological accuracy in the expression, •his tongue obey'd his hand' — and lastly the 45th line, where in the sentence 'he humbled' I catch the ipsissima verba of the humble poor — their own poor way of expressing their appreciation of the great good man's condescension. Yes, scholars and grammarians, you might doubtless command corrector grammar by the addition of the reflexive pronoun, but, what you would gain so, you would more than lose in originality, in character, in point, in force, in brevity. Not for one moment would I barter this poor man's homely phrase for Mr. Staunton's turgid compound ' behumhled ; ' nor can I tolerate Malone's gloss ' he being humbled ; ' much less agree with those who would brand the expression as corrupt. Critics must learn to bend their ears to this not altogether inharmonious cottage note; possibly 156 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Shakespeare heard it ; possibly he invented it ; certainly he was pleased with it. Aot 1. 3. ui. A stigma too has been attached to the following line— Act I. 3. 141— Such were our faults, or then we thought them none ; yet a poor exchange it would be, were Warburton's 0, or Mr. Collier's 'for,' or Hanmer's 'though', to supplant the good sound expressive idiomatic con- junction ' or,' which leaves it undecided, which of two possible ways of putting a case is the more correct. I see nothing to stigmatize here. Act II. 1,3. In Act II. 1. 3. it has been suggested that we should read If both gain, well, on the ground that it would be impossible for both to gain 'all;' the absence of a comma after .' all ' in the Folios has induced, I suppose, the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare to connect it with ' gift ' in the following line. This seems to me rather a shirking of the difficulty than a successful solution of it. The natural connection of ' all ' is with ' gain,' and in that connection I think it should be explained. May not the meaning be that, if both the young lords and those who were separately addressed as 'you, my lords,' or if both those who were going to join the Senoys and those who had chosen to espouse the cause of the Florentines, appropriated to their advantage all's well that ends well. 157 the advice in all its fulness which, the king had given them, that gift of advice would not be diminished by being diffused among so many ; it would be all-sufficient for all of them, whether they fought with this side or with that, and the value of it could only be measured by the receptivity and appreciative capacity of those to whom it had been given. Its usefulness would depend on themselves. But this clumsy and common-place prose would poorly replace Shakespeare's neat but more recon- dite mode of expressing the same sentiment. I confess, however, that the phrase, ' I am kept a coil with,' is hard of digestion, nor can I either parallel or explain it. A friend has hinted that perhaps a hyphen should be interposed between the preposition and the noun, and ' a-coil ' should be classed with such adverbial compounds as 'aboard,' 'afield,' 'afire,' 'akimbo,' and the like. About the general meaning there can be no dispute. I am now going to touch a passage in Act II. 1. -^ot^ii- 1- 1'^- 175-177, where it is all but impossible to ascertain either the precise reading or the precise meaning. Helen, having been challenged by the king to say what she durst venture on her certamty and con- fidence, replies Tax of impudence, A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame Traduced by odious ballads ; my maiden's name 158 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKEStEABE, Sear'd otherwise, m worse of worst extended With vilest torture let my life be ended. The words which I have itahcized are set down, I believe, exactly as they appear in the first Folio. In the other versions of the Folio 'no' takes the place of 'ne.' It has been thought that ' ne ' was meant to represent ' nay ;' to all intents and pur- poses, then, ' no ' and ' nay ' are the two words which have to be taken into account, and, according as we prefer the one or the other, we shall have to regulate and vary the sense of the passage. I assume, in the first place, that ' nay ' is the genuine word, and I may either punctuate thus, Sear'd otherwise ; nay, worse — of worst extended With vilest torture let my life be ended, that is, she will submit to be not only foully slandered, but, worse still, foully slain — to be reckoned as ' of,' or belonging to, the very worst of her kind, and, as such, to end her life only after a long extension of the vilest torture ; or, by a different arrangement of the stops, from the «ame words we may get a different, perhaps a preferable, meaning : Sear'd otherwise ; nay, worse of worst extended With vilest torture let my life be ended, where ' worse of worst ' would be an adverbial phrase quahfying the participle 'extended,' and indicating successive degrees iij the process of all's well that ends well. 159 torture, the ' worst ' for the time being being always followed by something ' worse,' till life could endure it no more — a hyperbolic expression which may be matched with Milton's And in the lowest deep a loVer deep. But what talk I of Milton ? Have we not in 'Timon' Act IV. 3. 247, 'worse than the worst?' and have we not also in 'Measure for Measure,' Act m. 1. 126, To be wor^e than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling ? In fact, what here is expressed by an adverbial phrase, in • Antony and Cleopatra ' is expressed by the sentence, ' Let worse follow worse ;' or we may get a flash of light from a passage in the ' Tempest ;' just as there we read in Act III. 3. 77, Lingering perdition, worse than any death Can ie at once, shall step by ?tep attend You and your ways, SO here we may read Sear'd otherwise, nay, worse of worst, extended With vilest torture let my life be ended, the adverbial phrase ' worse of worst ' being taken as a sort of summing up by anti^cipation of what is more fully expressed in the -remainder of the sentence, ' worst ' referring to the ' death ' which she imprecates upon herself, to use the word of 160 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESiPEABE. the 'Tempest,' or the 'life ended,' as it is expressed in this play ; the * worse ' than that worst referring to the ' lingering perdition,' as it is expressed there, or the ' extension with vilest torture,' as here. But, in the second place, I have to assume that the writer of the second Folio knew well what he was ahout when he changed 'ne' into 'no': the passage will now have to be interpreted very differently : Sear'd otherwise ; no worse of worst ; extended With vilest torture let my life be ended, where ' no worse of worst ' may either be considered as more or less connected with the words which immediately precede ; ' my maiden's name seared otherwise — no worse- wise of the worst than of me ;' 5or it may be taken as indicating yet another step in her denunciation of herself — a further and separate aggravation of the curse with which she would have herself stricken — ' let there be no person reckoned worse of all who come under the denomination of worst,' Such, then, being some of the interpretations, which the words, as they are given in the Folios, are capable of bearing without much wrenching, I would not discard the reading of the Folios, doubtful though it may be, -for the notion of this or that commentator's private fancy, which must be much more doubtful. all's well that ends well. 161 We must on no account listen to those who Act n. 5. 52. would have us believe that there is something wrong with the words— Act II. 5. 52— I have spoken better of you than you have gr wiU to deserve at my hand; the occasional insertion in Shakespeare's time of the sign of the infinitive after auxiliary verbs I have already illustrated by copious examples; if I add one example more, it is because we have in this very play ' To belie them I will not.' Shall I be accused of splitting a hdir, if I advo- Act iv. 1. cate the shifting of a stop in Act IV. 1.. 17-21 ? ^''■^^■ Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy j n*ot to know what we speak one to another, so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose. Thp authorized position of the semicolon is after 'another,' not after 'fancy.' With regard to the 38th line of Act IV. 2. Act iv. 2. 38. I see that men make *ropes in such a scarre That we'll forsake ouraelvea, the precise meaning has not been ascertained — perhaps is not ascertainable. Possibly, there may be an allusion to the rope ladder, by which young gallants made it easy for their loves to forsake * rope's — so the first Folio. 162 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. themselves — facilis descensus Averni — the ladder, however, here referred to, v^ould be not a material but a metaphorical one ; if this view is correct, it may be a question whether the last word of the line were not originally 'stair,' agreeably to that dictum in ' Eomeo and Juliet,' And bring the corda made like a tackle stair ; possibly the phrase ' make ropes ' may be a nautical metaphor tantamount to what is nowadays more usually expressed by its kindred phrase, ' to spin a long yarn ; ' and some such sense it might bear in ' The Taming of the Shrew,' where we read He'll rail in his rope tricks, and in 'Eomeo and Juliet,' where the nurse says What saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery? But I feel here that I have no sure ground to stand Aotiv.1.31. upon; I will hasten on, therefore, to the 31st line of the 4th Scene, where our first operation must be to see that the stops are in their right places : I set them thus : Dia. Let death and honesty Go with your impositions, I am yours Upon your will to suffer. Bel. Yet J pray you ; But with the word — ' The time will bring on summer. When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, And be as sweet as sharp.' all's well that ends well. 163 The whole of the last sentence standi in apposition to the noun 'tvord,' pretty much as is the case in • Measure for Measure,' Act I, 2. 126-127, The words of heaven — ' On whom it will, it will ; On whom it will not, so ' — yet still 'tis just. ' Suffer a while yet ' — says Helen, and I need not say that 'yet' is repeatedly used as a particle of time, one instance, which seems to have given a deal of trouble at any rate to past scholars, occurring in ' King Henry V,' Act IV. 3. 49, Old men forget ; yet all shall be forgot ; and so here — ' suffer a while yet, but withal remem- bering the proverb, which tells of leaves as well as of thorns, of summer's sweetness as well as of winter's sharpness.' 'Blade of youth,' the reading of the copies iuAotv. 3. 6. Act V. 3. 6, is neither unnatural, nor unintelligible, nor, I believe I may add, unexampled ; but, standing where it does, it seems incongruous and out of place, like a cockle in the wheat. The word which has found most favour with critics is 'blaze,' which has been introduced into most, I believe, of the pubhshed editions; yet I am not at all -sure that we should not give the precedence to ' blood,' which, as pronounced by some, sounds almost exactly like 'blade' (cf. 'bled'), and, if spelt 'blode' or 'blude,' is within a letter of it. I read, therefore, 164 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done 'i the Uood of youth ; "When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbeara it, and burns on. The ' Uood ' first, the ' hlaze ' is afterwards expressed. The following passages may give some colour to my conjecture : The strongest oaths are straw To the fire 'i the blood. ' Tempest," Act IV. 1. 62-53 ; The blood of youth burns not with such excess. ' Love's Labour's Lost,' Act V. 2. 73 ; It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood. '1 Henry IV,' Act V. 2. 17 j Act V. 3. 66. A little below, in the 66th line, should we read with the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare Our own love waking cries to see what's done. While shixme full late sleeps out the afternoon ; or should we stand to ' shameful hate,' the phrase of the Folios ? The former is ingenious and plausible ; but it is an innovation and oiie that is not varnished by the pretence of necessity. The latter is sufficient, is countenanced by the testimony of the best copies, and, in my opinion, seems most suitable to the context. It must have been some great * displeasure ' indeed — something very much akin to hate — which could have wrought so feaffuUy as to ' destroy ' a ' friend ' and bring him to the ' dust.' "When love awoke and cried, that spirit of evil, whatever it was — ' hate,' as we believe and as the Folios indicate — all's well that ends well. 165 slept. But love only awoke in the decline of the man's life, after the worthy one who should have been loved had passed away; 'hate,' having had the morning and noon all to itself, and as it were exhausted with its half or three quarters of a day's hard hearty work, instead of being cast into durance and made to do painful penance, had a lazy time of it in cushioned ease — ' sleeping out the afternoon ' is said to the disparagement of Falstaff^while love, awake at last, was bitterly crying. Love and hate are the two opposite extremes, and may well stand in counterpoise to each other. Antitheses, it has been remarked, frequently occur in rhymed lines. ' Laissez faire ' must be our principle here. Some change, however, must be made in Act V. Act v. 3. 216. 3. 216, where the reading of the Folios is arrant nonsense ; for what can be made of ' insuite comming ' in the passage which follows ? She knew her distance and did angle for me, Madding my eagerness with her restraint, As all impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy ; and, in fine, Her insuite comming, with her modern grace, Subdued me to her rate. Shall we not snatch at such a Conjecture as 'infinite cunning,' which is charmingly ingenious, and seems pretty appropriate, to say nothing of the 166 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBABE. adjective bearing a rough resemblance in form, the noun in sound, to the word of the copies ? Yet there is some difference between' the two versions ; we have to suppose that not one word only but two consecutive ones have been falsely rendered; nor am I aware that 'infinite,' a common word enough, is commonly miswritten ; can the critics, whose ears were hurt by the disagreeable assonance of ' talked ' and ' walked ' in two consecutive lines of ' Julius Caesar,' endure here — here, where joking must be out of the question — the jarring sound of ' in fine,' and ' infinite ' ? There is another emendation possible, which is neither unsuitable to the passage nor inimical to the reading of the copies, and which may be brought forward to compete with that which has found favour in the cloisters of Cambridge. The point, which Bertram was seeking to explain, was how he had been induced to part with his monumental ring. We know how it was. It was not done proprio motu ; it was no thought or wish on his part ; nor was there any particular act of cunning on hers ; it was her own request— her * own suit ' — ' Give me that ring ' are her very words, as given in Act IV. 2. 39 ; and this I think that Bertram, for all that he was so great a liar, in order to screen himself spoke here truly enough : Her own suit, coming with her modern grace, Subdued me to her rate ; she got the ring. all's well that ends well. 167 It may be a moot question, whether 'summing' may not have been in the original vice ' comming ; ' but every one can see how easily ' in ' and ' own ' may have been confounded, just as ' in ' and ' on ' continually are. To this emendation it may be objected, that it is out of keeping with what is previously attributed to her ; it may be replied that her suit for the ring would not be inconsistent with her coy reluctance to gratify her lover. The most subtle harlot, who had opposed restraint to eagerness and impediment to fancy, would not scruple to ask for a precious ring which sparkled in her eyes, nor is it easy to see how Bertram could palliate his having given it, without pleading that he had been compelled to do so, because she bad actually sued for it. It suited the purpose of the liar here to speak the truth. I may add, by way of postscript, that, on looking at the foot-notes of the • Cambridge ' Shakespeare, after I had made a fair and concluding copy of my notes on this play, I found to my surprise that • her own suit ' had been already conjectured. I cannot, therefore, claim to be the first inventor of this version, some one else having patented it before me. 168 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. TWELFTH NIGHT; OE, WHAT YOU WILL. Act. II. 5. 71. In 'Twelfth Night,' Act II. 5. 71, it has been considered questionable, whether Shakespeare wrote, what he is represented in the copies as having written. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace, or some other word, of which ^ cars ' is only a false adumbration. In this very play. Act III. 2. 64, we have I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together, where the form of expression is somewhat similar, but both the cattle and the tackle are specifically mentioned. In ' The Two Gentlemen of Verona,' Act III. 1. 265, Launce says A team of horses shall not pluck that from me, where again there is a certain resemblance ; the draught animals are expressed, but the traces to draw with are left to be supplied. May not, then, in ' Twelfth Night ' the simple word ' cars ' stand not only for the vehicle, but for the harnessed horses TWELFTH NIGHT ; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. 169 and requisite tackle ? It is true that horses draw, as do oxen with wainropes, but cars and carts are drawn; yet it is equally true that Hector's corpse was drawn or dragged by the chariot of Achillea. Verbum sat. No traction-engine, of how many horse power soever, should move them to speak. Of conjectures, the most noteworthy of the serious ones are ' cords ' and ' scars ' — th& latter word intended, I presume, to express the wounds inflicted on the soul by the sharp sword of the tongue — of the comical ones, ' curs.' In Act III. 3. 13-16, unless we have one of the Act m. 3.13- short lines which are occasionally to be met with in Shakespeare — a possible, but not, I think, here a probable circumstance — a lacuna occurs in the text through the carelessness of the transcriber or the printer. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make but thanks, And thanks and ever off good turns Are shuffled off with such uncurreiit pay. I need scarcely say — every critic -can see — that ' thanks ' was in all likelihood the word that originally was repeated for the third time after ' ever ; ' but I may be permitted to observe, what it has occurred to no critic that I know of to note, that, that done, the verse is mended, the metre is completed, no 170 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. further insertion is necessary, none must be tolerated. For this is one of those instances, where a pause occurs in a hne, and that pause is equivalent to a syllable. It is not necessary that I should cite examples of this well-known peculiarity of Shakespearian prosody ; but, inasmuch as there are passages elsewhere, where the same peculiarity occurs, and where emendations have been essayed, as though the metre were defective, I will avail myself of this opportunity to quole one or two such passages, not, it must be distinctly understood, as vouchers for, but merely as illustrations of, the limited alteration to which in the present instance I insist that we should confine ourselves. In 'All's Well That Ends Well' we read, Act II. 3. 140, That ia honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born And is not like the sire : honours thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers. Here, though the wanting syllable is capable of being supplied either by pausing after ' sire ' or by making « sire ' pass as a dissyllable, would it be believed that some editors have actually foisted into the text ' our honours thrive ' ! Take another instance from 'Timon,' Act V. 4, 35, TWELFTH night; OR WHAT YOU WILL. 171 All have not offended ; For those that were, it is not square to take On those that are, revenge ; crimes, like lands, Are not inherited. Here the • Globe ' editors read ' revenges,' which no doubt Shakespeare uses elsewhere, but which they have no authority for supposing that he used here ; nor is the correction necessary. Lastly in ' King John,' Act V. 7. 35, Poison'd — ill fare — dead, forsook, cast off, the foot-notes of the ' Cambridge ' Shakespeare will show how some would have botched where there is really no need for mending at all. But it is no botching to write Thanks, and ever thanks : oft good turns. With respect to technicalities of punctuation, Act 111,4. there is room for considerable divergence of opinion. Yet I cannot but think that, when a sentence is not broken off altogether, but merely interrupted by a parenthetical remark and after that resumed, its continuity as a sentence should be marked, as far as possible, by means of the stops. This does not seem to me to have been done in Act HI. 4. 86-91, which is thus set down in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare : Mai. Why, everything adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance — What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. 172 HARD KNOTS IN SH:A.EESPEAEE. According to this mode of pointing, it would seem that a sentence was left unfinished, a question asked, and a fresh sentence commenced with the words, ' Nothing that can be ;' but, as a matter of fact, these last words are merely a continuation of the sentence which had been interrupted by the bye-question, ' What can be said ? ' Dram, scruple, obstacle, circum- stance, all these are too feeble to express what Malvolio is hammering at ; he pauses, therefore, and asks, ' What can be said ? ' How can he put it more forcibly ? The words that follow — ' Nothing that can be ' — are his continuation, his climax, his last best stroke of words. A comma,=then, should be placed after • circumstance ;' ' what can be said ' should be armed with brackets or hyphens ; ' nothing ' should lose the capital which is now its initial letter ; and Malvolio's words will be fitly presented thus : Why everything adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance, — what can be said '>' — nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Act IV. 1. To attach too much importance to the words of a fool would be the acme of folly ; but, when fools utter, albeit in a quaint and silly fashion, such sound sense as Shakespeare's fools frequently do, we are not warranted in pooh-poohing what we do not fully understand and passing it by as mere foolery. What, then, does the Clown mean, when in Act IV. 1. 14, 16, he says, TWELFTH night; OE WHAT YOU WILL. 173 I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney? It is somewhat against us that we are unable to ascertain either the origin or the precise meaning of ' cockney.' All that we can assert positively is that it was wont to be used in no very complimentary sense. Perhaps our best chance of unravelling the meaning is to examine closely the texture of the passage. Sebastian had used a word, which to the fool's ear was new-fangled, far-fetched, affected, heard used by great men, and then borrowed, and straight applied to a fool's folly. '' What will happen next ' — cries the fool — * now that Cesario ' — for such he must have imagined Sebastian to be — ' instead of using the good rough homely language of mother wit, takes upon him to spout in this high fantastic style ! By and by, not your picked men only and your fine fellows, but every lazy hulking chap will give himself airs and affect the same singularity of diction.' The fool sees the evil spreading, like an epidemic, from individual to individual, till it becomes a general plague and the huge world is nothing more or less than a lazar-house of cockneyism. Such I venture to think is the gist of a passage, which, if it is not as clear as it might be, is very far from deserving the condemnation of editors. ' Oockenay ' is used in Chaucer, but this is the only passage, if I mistake not, in which it is to be found in Shakespeare. 174 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAEB. THE WINTEE'S TALE. Act I. 2. When a sentence is interposed between the 273-76. ^ protasis and the apodosis of a hypothetical sentence without being dependent on either of them, surely some more distinctive mark of separation than a comma is required to isolate it from the two portions of the sentence which on either side enclose it. In Act I. 2. 273-76 of ' The Winter's Tale ' a couple of hyphens — a sign which has been used by the • Globe' editors with much effect in the six previous lines — must have been omitted involuntarily, and for clearness' sake should surely he substituted for the two commas which at present stand there, If thou wilt confess — Or else be impudently negative, To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought — then say My wife's, &c., &c. Act 1. 2. 324. Further on, the correctness of the text has bden challenged in the latter part of the 324th line where Leontes says to Camillo Make that thy question, and go rot ; but it is not so much a revision of the text that is here wanted, as an interpreter of the meaning. THE winter's tale. 175 Singer is of opinion that ' that ' refers 'to the queen's infidelity, and that the king of Sicilia as good as says ' If yon treat that as a matter of doubt and not of absolute certainty, to the dung-hill, to the crows with you ! ' But is not the sentiment much about the same as that which was expressed on a memorable occasion in those well-known words to a manifest traitor, ' What is that to us ? See thou to it,' Leontes insinuating that Camillo must be false in his professions of loyal attachment, because he had not revealed to him the secret of the queen's alleged infidelity ? Probably the king had no wish to be turned from his subject by the introduction of this bye-question of Camillo's loyalty. Further on still, in the same Act and Scene, lines ^'^,„^- 2. 457-460, there is a passage which has miserably embarassed the critics, but the difficulty of which I cannot but think has been greatly overestimated. It occurs in the latter part of one of Polixenes' speeches, where he says Fear o'ersliades me : Good expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing Of his ill-ta'en suspicion ! Dr. Johnson affirmed that he could make nothing of the words, ' part of his theme, but nothing of his ill-ta'en suspicion ;' and, if Theobald had said so, we might be chary of giving any opinion ; but Johnson 4B7-60. 176 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. does not hold the same rank as a Shakespearian expositor as he does as an English lexicographer. The two phrases seem to me td stand in a sort of appositional relation to the 'queen.' ' Part of his theme,' of course, means that she equally with Polixenes was the subject of the king's reflections; but the meaning of the other phrase ' nothing of his ill-ta'en suspicion,' is not so apparent. If it can only mean that the queen was not suspected by the king, it is utterly unsuitable and must be pro- nounced corrupt; but may it not bear another jneaning more agreeable to the seilse required ? In ' Antony and Cleopatra,' Act II. 2. 79-80, the words, Let this fellolv Be nothing of our strife, can only mean ' Let him give no occasion to us to quarrel ; ' and ' This fellow is nothing of our strife ' would mean ' This fellow gives no occasion to us to quarrel ;' and similarly ' The queen is nothing of the king's suspicion ' may mean ' She gives no occasion to the king to suspect, however much he may suspect ;' she does nothing to promote it ; and in that sense she is ' nothing of it.' As for the words ' comfort the queen,' I dismiss Warburton's conjecture ' the queen's,' which, though it satisfied Dr. Johnson, is a mere shirking of the difficulty, and I conceive THE winter's tale. 177 that Polixenes expressed a wish that the good expedition, which he prays may befriend him, may ' comfort the queen.' I put it thus : where he was, he was already a doomed man, without a chance of vindicating his character or escaping the king's vengeance. To get away as fast as he could was his only hope ; well, then, he»might pray for himself, 'Good expedition be, my friend.' But, while he was thus providing for his own safety, what of the queen ? His ^presence at court would certainly not avail her during the short space that he would be suffered to bide there ; protest his innocence as much as he might, the ears of jealousy would be deaf to his protestations. What then ? His speedy withdrawal — his disappearance from the scene — beneficial to himself, would benefit also the queen ; would be the best arrangement not indeed for her justification — for that was impossible — but for her ' comfort.' It was what 'she herself would have him do under the circumstances. Well, then, he might farther pray that his expeditious departure might ' comfort the queen.' The Cambridge editors suggest that they would have expected Polixenes to say that his flight with- out Hermione would be the best means of dispelling 178 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEB. Leontes' suspicion; but that he well knew that he could not hope to do ; 'the fire of jealousy is not so easily extinguished. The utmost that he could do was not to fan and fuel the flame by his presence ; not to add to the queen's already great discomfort ; but go, and leave it to time to prove both his innocence and hers. It was the best course for both : for him it was life ; for her his prayer was that it might be ' comfort.' Act II. 1. There is a passage in Act II. 1. 133-36, where Antigonus declares that, if it should turn out that the queen has gone wrong, I'll keep my stablea where I lodge my wife ; I'll go in couples with her ; Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her. A mere bubble of a difficulty this ! The last line expresses in plain language what the former lines had expressed in the language of metaphor. Nothing but the testimony of his senses should convince him that his wife was faithful to him. He must have ocular, nay, tangible testimony. The chase was his delight ; he must look to his horses ; but, while looking after them, he could not have an eye upon his wife. Well — one building shall serve for both — ' he will keep his stables where he lodges his wife.' Does the declaration sound nionstrous ? Not a whit more monstrous was it in his estimation than the THE winteb's tale. 179 monstrous suspicion which the king had harboured concerning the queen. But further ; he must look to the coupling of his hounds ; this operation supplies him with a figure expressive of yet closer watchfulness ; a coupling chain shall be reserved for his wife, that, by having her at his ^elbow, he may know that she has not given him the slip. So then the emendation of ' stabler ' or ' stablers ' proposed by the Cambridge editors, though involving a minimum of change, is objectionable for the simple reason that it is a change where no change is required. Six lines lower down Antigonus protests that the Act ii. 1. 143. king had been deceived by some putter-on, and that, if he knew the villain, he would ' Hand-damn ' him. This strange compound has perplexed the most learned and sagacious commentators. All that we can venture to pronounce positively is, that it must denote some punishment, adequate to 'the magnitude of the crime, which it was in the power of the speaker to inflict in this flesh-and-blood world. Would he damn him from the land by throwing him into perpetual durancd, or into the sea, or into the fire ? or would he damn him to the land by burying him quick in it ? or is it possible that the term is * Land damne— so the first Folio. 180 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. borrowed from feudal nomenclature, and that by land-damning he meant taking from him the land he held and his personal freedom, and condemning him and his posterity to servitude and the degrading occupation of cultivating the land of another ? Or is it possible that we can cast a glimmer of light on this dark and mysterious compound from the following passage in ' Cymbeline,' Act I. 2, where Cloten and some lords are talking of a duel which had just taken place between the former and Posthumus Leonatus : Clo. The villain would not stand me. Sec. Lord. \_Aside] No ; but he fled forward still, toward your face. First Lord. Stand you ! You have land enough of your own : but he added to your having ; gave you some ground. See. Lord. \_Aside] As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies ! Glo, I would they had not come between us. Sec. Lord. \_Aside'] So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. ' Land-damn him ' in the light of this passage would contain a deal in a small compass — the challenge which Antigonus would have sent him ; the duel which he would have fought with him ; the resolution with which he would have held his own ground ; the fiery vigour with which he would have forced him to give him some of his ground ; the stunning blow which he would have dealt him till he had THE WINTEE S TALE. 181 measured his length on the ground; and, having left him no ground to stand upon, whether he would damn him further and forbid his body interment, we need not pursue — the land-damning would have been thorough and complete. The illiterate multitude of Shakespeare's day (and we are no better off than they, so far as accurate knowledge of this word goes) would understand the meaning and significance of the last, if they could not of the fitst portion of this mysterious compound. But there is another mode of smoothing the difficulty which deserves to be mentioned. ' Land- damn ' was the title of a high magistrate in a Swiss canton, and might have been used to indicate the sort of authority which the Sicilian officer desired, to warrant his infliction of a punishment of except- ional severity. As its final syllable emphatically repeated the ' damn ' of the preceding line, it gave room for a double entendre, with which the author condescended not unfrequently to divert his audience. The entire word, with the true meaning of it, would occur to the statesman and to the scholar, and would satisfy their sense of judicial propriety ; but the second half of the word, with its delusive sound, would be rapturously caught at by the inerudite multi- tude and would be hailed by them with revengeful vociferations. ' I would be his judge — I would deal 182 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. with him, with a vengeance ' — ^^such would be accepted as the drift of Antigonus' exclamation. In ' 2 Henry IV,' Act I. 2, when the Chief Justice says to Falstaff I sent for you, when there were matters against you for your life, to come speak with me, Falstaff answers As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. Act, III. 2. 60- I pass on to a passage, which has caused some dispute, in Act III, 2. 60-62, where Hermione says More than mistress of Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not At all acknowledge. The expression is peculiar, and the order of the words equally so ; but neither is repugnant to Shakespearian usage ; the fellow line we have in ' As You Like It," I show more mirth than J am mistress of. It is, of course, possible — it has actually been conjectured — that the letter m, preceded by an apostrophe, may have been omitted before ' mistress ' — the latter word beginning with an m would facilitate the omission — and «ven that the pronoun itself [I'm] may also have been omitted. The addition would not incommode the metre. But we must not recast Shakespeare's sentences to please THE wintee's tale. 183 the fastidiousness of modern readers ; the ellipse is not incredible ; the sense is perfectly clear ; the passage might have been more explicit, it would not have been more forcible, had the words been I must not acknowledge more fault than I am mistress of. There remains to be accounted for the little clause, ' which comes to me in name of fault.' This is what is called a relative proposition, limiting something which is stated in general terms. Such parenthetical clauses are frequent in ancient classical literature. To the explanation, then, which I have already given, I have merely to add ' at least so far as relates to that which comes to me in the category of fault,' and I have said enough on this passage to remove not perhaps the suspiciousness of a Leontes, but, I trust, of every unbiassed critic. There is seemingly a slight flaw in Act IV. 3. 98, Act iv. 3. where we read They cherish it {i.e. virtue) to make it stay there, and yet it wiU no more but abide. ' But ' seems out of place. There are many words which might be substituted for it, e.^., ' jot,' or 'whit,' or even • bit,' a little word often used by rural' folk and not unlikely to drop from a Clown's mouth. « More bit ' would be like ' more requital '— ' King John,' Act II. 1. 34— and ' our more leisure '— 184 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ' Measure for Measure,' Act I. 8. 49 ; lastly— and this remark may make us pause before we commit ourselves to any change at all — 'but, 'having itself at times a negative signification, may have been used, or misused, to fortify the negation. But what am I saying ? The Clown is represented as a poor, simple, silly fellow. Should we, then, weigh his nonsense in the scales of reason and sense ? Act IV. 4. 250. There is another word which proceeds from the Clown, in the 250th line of the 4th Scene of the same Act, which has confounded the learned. ' Clamour your tongues, and not a word more,' if right, has not yet been shown to be so. Perhaps it was a slang term in olden time, which has long since been defunct, and which needs not now be exhumed ; but I should not be surprised if it were an error of the copyist, miswritten for ' Shame o' your tongues.' Act IV. 4. I read in the ' Globe ' edition in Act IV. 4. 590-92 590-92. My good Camillo, She is as forward of her breeding as She is i' the rear our birth. Notwithstanding that ' 'our ' is the reading of the Folios, ' 'our ' and ' o' her ' have such a strong phonetic resemblance, and the latter here is so far preferable to the former, that I would stretch a point for once, and read ' o' her.' ' She is as THE winter's tale. 185 forward in respect of her breeding as she is backward in respect of her birth.' As said Buckingham in ' King Richard III,' ' So cunning and so young.' I had all but dropped my pen, when my eye fell ^°^ T^- *■ on a word in a speech of Autolycus in the 760th line, where we read Thinkest thou, for that I insinuate, or* toaze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier ? Singer thinks that we have the same word here as in the phrase 'to toaze wool,' which he says is to pluck or draw it out. The only approach to a parallel that I can recollect in Shakespeare is in ' Measure for Measure,' ' I'll touse you joint by joint.' ' To toazle ' hay — I can vouch for the use and the sound, but not for the spelling — is used in Devonshire meadows for shaking out the hay, in order to scatter and expose it to the burning rays of the sun. There are numbers of words and phrases current in provincial and rural districts — becoming more and more rare, as intercommunication increases — which have no place in a Latham's or a Webster's Dictionary. A vagabond like Autolycus might have picked up some of these unconsidered trifles in country lane or village fair. * The first Folio liaa 'at toaze.' 186 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act V. 1. 56- As for Leontes' speech in Act V. 1. 66-60, I am quite willing to leave it as it is found printed in the first Folio, One worse And better used, would make her sainted spirit Again possess her corpse, and on this stage, (Where we offenders now appear), soul-vex'd. And begin, Why to me ? The meaning here is tolerably clear without inserting ' are ' before ' offenders,' as the ' Globe' editors do, and making ' and ' connect the two verbs * possess ' and ' appear ' ; ' and on this stage ' is both idiomatic and Shakespearian English. KING JOHN. 187 KING JOHN. In the first Scene of the second Act of ' King -'^ct ii. i. iss- 190. John,' 183-90, by way of prelude to the great battle which is about to be fought before the walls of Anglers between the French and the Austrians on the one side and the English forces on the other, there is a smart skirmish of tongues — a sort of Grynsekomachia — between Elinor and her daughter- in-law Constance, the two champions respectively of the two rival candidates for the English crown, in which the latter with her two weapons ' sin ' and ' plague ' presses her adversary so persistently and in such a rapid dashing shifting fashion, that, though we can see clearly enough the aim and effectiveness of her general strategy, we have not a very distinct notion of the force and bearing of her particular evolutions and assaults. The passage is in every sense a plaguy one ; the punctuation has first to be settled, then the explanatiqn. I should imagine that the stiffest stickler for Folio pointing would be willing in this instance to acquiesce in the pointing adopted by the editors of the ' Globe ' 188 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Shakespeare, where the various clauses are thus divided : I have but this to say, That he is not only plagued for her sin, But God hath made her sin *and lier the plague On this removed issue, plagued f for her And with her plague ; her sin his injury, Her injury the beadle to her sin. All punished in the person of this child. And all for her ; a plague upon her ! There are two ways in which children may suffer by their fathers — either indirectly, by their fathers' sins being visited upon them, or directly, by their fathers grossly ill-using them. !N^ow in both these ways Constance, the mother of Prince Arthur, avers that Elinor, his grandmother, has been a plague to him. Not only has she, by her general wickedness entailed upon him an inheritance of woe according to the denunciation of the decalogue ; but, in the superfluity of her naughtiness, she is actually in her own person doing him a particular injury, in that she is leagued with her son John, who is a usurper, to deprive her grandson of that goodly inheritance, which is his by right of primogeniture. The latter * and her, Ff . t For her, And with her plague her sin ; his ipjury Ff, KING JOHN. 189 sin was worse than the former; for in the former case the ill might have fallen upon him without her having ever intended it, albeit she were the cause of it; but in the latter it was inflicted by her consciously, deliberately, and as it were with her own hands belabouring him. With these two clues to guide us, we shall not have much difficulty in threading our way through the intricacies of the passage. For clearness' sake I will present my explanation in the following form : 'I have but this to say, that he .is not only plagued for her sin ' — that is for the general sin committed by her, which, according to the canon, is visited upon him — ' but God hath made her sin and her ' — aye, not only her sin, but actually her, her personally, the very grandmother herself — ' the plague on this removed issue, plagued for her '—this refers to the canonical denunciation — ' and with her plague '—this to the grandam's present direct ill-usage of him, in conspiring with her son John to rob him of his rightful inheritance — ' her sin his injury ' — that is, she has done him grievous wrong in having lived such a life as to bring down upon him the divine chastisement, but, as if that were not enough, — ' her injury the beadle to Jier sin ' — she is actually now herself inflicting a wrong upon him, which with beadle-like severity scourges himj in a word, her 190 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. past wickedness and her present unnatural cruelty, her injury of him indirectly and now also directly, ' all ' are now visited with the divine chastisement, not unfortunately on the head of her the wrong doer, but all are ' punished in the person of this child,' not for anything which he has done to deserve it, but ' all for her ; a plague upon her ! ' Act III. 1:259. After getting out of this labyrinth, we pursue a straight and easy course, until we come to Act III. 1. 259, where it is not a little tantalizing that we have in the Folios a word which is as nearly right as it possibly can be without being exactly right. 'A cased lion' may have been intended either for ' chafed ' — so Theobald — or for ' chased ' — so Pope — or for ' caged ' — so Collier. It does not follow, because we have in ' King Henry VIII,' Act III. 2. 206, So looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him, that ' chafed ' was certainly the word used by Shakespeare here ; a passage in ' 3 Henry VI,' Act I. 3. 12-13, So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws, may give some countenance to ' caged,' a word which I need not say is used by Shakespeare, and is not an unlikely one, as s and g ar-e somewhat similarly KING JOHN. 191 formed and are not unfrequently confused — e.g.,corasio for comgio. But why quibble about a word, when we have, if we can, to unravel the elaborate web of Cardinal Pandulph's subtle casuistry — a marvellous Aetiii. 1.279- sample of priestly sophistry^which extends from ^^^' the 263rd line to the 297th, thotfgh the most knotty part is contained in the 279th to the 285th line : It is religion that doth make vows *kept ; But thou hast sworn against rehgion, By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st, And makest an oath the surety for thy truth Against an oath : the truth, thou art unsjire To swear, swears only not to be forsworn. To say that Shakespeare intended Pandulph's speech to be subtle and his logic close and intricate is right enough ; that he intended it to be incomprehensible cannot be allowed. I make no question that the lines as we have them are as the poet composed them; all that we have. to do is to ascertain the punctuation ; that done, the explanation will follow. I have transcribed the passage pretty much as I have found it in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare, because, after turning it well over in my mind, I am persuaded that the arrangement there adopted is in the main * In the first Folio the passage is punctuated thua Kept, religion : thy truth, an'oath the truth, not to, be forsworn. 192 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. correct. For the elucidation of the speech I shall make the following expansion of it. Thou art setting faith against faith, oath against oath, tongue against tongue (26,3-265). Thy first vow was to be the champion of the church ; it was made to heaven ; it was advantageous to thyself ; to heaven it should be performed. Thy second vow was to be true to thy compact with England's king ; it was contrary to thy interest; ,it was contrary to religion ; it may not be performed (265-69). For, if a man swears what is wrong, it is not wrongly done — that is to say, it is rightly done — when it is done truly, and it is done truly, when it is not done at all, because, if it is done, it tends to evil (269-73). The better plan is, when purposes are mistaken, that they should be again mistaken, that is, that they should be reversed, so that they should be as if they had never been. Indirection, instead of being persisted in, should be made direct by indirection. The crooked course should be trodden back again, till the foot stands where it did before. There is a sort of homoeopathy in ethics as well as in physics ; false- hood cures falsehood, as fire cools burns (273-78). Vows are only obligatory, in so far as they conform to the canons of the church — 'it is religion that doth make vows kept, but thou hast sworn against religion by what thou swearest against the thing thou KING JOHN. 193 Bwearest,' that is to say, by swearing two things which are irreconcilable with each other, the one being fidelity to the king of England, the other fidelity to the Church ; and so thou art making an oath a surety for thy truth against an oath. Surety for thy truth indeed ! The truth, as to which thou art so unsure — for how canst thou with all thy vacillation and equivocation give any suretyship for it? — the truth, the tongue of truth, the man of truth, swears only not to be forsworn ; truth's sole object is truth, but thy object is falsehood — thou dost swear only to be forsworn. The Cardinal concludes with an exhortation to Philip to repudiate his second and return to his first vow, to which end he says he will pray; but, if his Sprayers should prove ineffectual, he has in reserve a heavy load of curses to heap on Philip's head, which will weigh him down to desperation and the dus't. Having extricated ourselves from the Cardinal's Act 111.3. 37- meshes, we meet with no hindrance in our course until we come to the following passage in Act III. 2. 5, where the king is represented as saying to the Bastard, Philip, make up, My mother is assailed in our tent. And ta'en, I fear. Is this correct? Would the king, who had bade him 194 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. 'kneel down Philip, but arise Sir Eichard,' have addressed him by the meaner name which he had renounced rather than by the kingly one which he had adopted ? It may be said that Shakespeare probably made the slip. I think it much more likely that a copyist did. His eye caught, and his ears yet tingled with, the name .of Philip, Mng of France, who is mentioned in the line immediately preceding. If we could but peep into the author's MS., I believe we should find Richard, make up. I observe an obelus in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare in Act III. 3. 37-39, If the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, Sound on into the drowsy race of night. The obelus seems to me unnecessary. Certainly ' on ' must not be cast out for the little word ' one.' The correctness of ' sound on ' is guaranteed by the occurrence of such phrases as 'say on,' 'go on,' 'run on; ' a line in ' 1 Henry VI,' Act I. 2. 42, is very much to the purpose. Their arms are set like clocks, still to strike on. 'Drowsy race of night' refers, I think, to the slow progress of the night, as 'her jades with drowsy slow and flagging wings' pursue their KING JOHN. 195 course: elsewhere Night is called the 'cripple tardy-gaited;' and in 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act V. 1. 875, we have 'the heavy ; gait of Night: in 'Pericles' a 'glorious walk' is assigned to the day. The only instance that I remember of 'race' being used at all similarly in Shakespeare is in ' Measure for Measure,' Act II. 4. 160, And now I give my sensual race the iein. The next passage which catches my eye is in Act iv. 2. 4o- Act IV. 2. 40-43, *^" Some reasons of this double coronation I have possess'd you with and think them strong ; And more, more strong, then lesser is my fear, I shall indue you with. Here it is difficult to state positively what the precise meaning is, because we are not at all sure what the reading should be. The little clause, 'then lesser is my fear,' is our crux. I am inclined to think that ' then ' is a mistake for ' than ' — the two words are repeatedly interchanged by the copyists — and that the comparative 'lesser' is a Shakespearian redundancy — numbers of such re- dundancies will occur to the reader— where we should rather use the simple comparative 'less;' unless, as is quite possible, the construction here is formed after the model of a well-known Greek and 196 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. Latin idiom, of which the following example from Livy V. 43. will be a sufficient illustration, Bella fortius quam feliciua gerere. The king tells the peers that he has 'more' reasons and 'more strong' reasons for his double coronation than he has yet disclosed; and it would be not unreasonable to expect hiin to add that his fears had diminished in consequence. But I am not at all sure that this is what he says. Men, timid and irresolute, who have been agitated by fears, are not so easily reasoned out of their fears. The king was full of fearful foreboding. I jmderstand him to say that his reasons are stronger than his fears are less, which is another way of saying that his fears were not lessened in proportion as his reasons were numerous and weighty. The utmost had been done, but the terror had not passed. This avowal might have been merely the outcome of a heart conscious of its own guilt, but I think that it was rather prompted by the suspicious attitude of the peers towards him, to whom he thus conveys a hint that he is not ignorant of their disaffection. As a slight confirmation of this interpretation, it is noticeable that, in the short remainder of his speech, the king expresses himself as willing to agree to such measures (of reform as they should deem expedient. KING JOHN. 197 I shall next notice a pretty emendation which has Act v. e. 12. been introduced into the text in Act V. 6. 12, where Hubert, having met the Bastard in the darkness of the night and failed to recognise him, on being made aware who it was whom he had failed to recognise, exclaims Unkind remembrance ! thou and endless night Have done me shame : brave soldier, pardon me, That any accent breaking from thy tongue Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. I have written 'endless' night, because 'endles' — 'endlesse' — 'endless'' — is the reading of the Folios; yet 'eyeless,' which Theobald adopted, has become the textus receptus. We must admit that an 'endless' night is a physical impossibility; yet the expression is not an impossible oiie: it may be regarded either as a loose popular way of speaking, or as the natural though hyperbolic language of impatience or intense anxiety. People say there is no end to a business, trouble, journey, period of time, when the business, trouble, journey, time, are more lingering and tedious than they -either wish or expect. And so Hubert, walking in .the black brow of night to find the Bastard, impatient and eager to find him that he might communicate to him the stunning intelligence of the poisoning of the king, having all but missed him through the prevailing darkness although close to him, may, inaccurately 198 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. indeed from a physical, but correctly enough from a popular or metaphysical point of view, apostrophize the night as 'endless.' Act V. 7. 15- A difficulty also has been made of 'invisible' in Act V. 7. 15-17, Death, having preyed upon the outward parts, Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now Against the mind. But 'invisible' may be used here for 'invisibly,' the adjective for the adverb — a well-known Shakespearian peculiarity. Personify the king of terrors, give him a kind of body and the power of making himself visible or invisible, and the adverbial adjective is neither inappropriate nor destitute of force. Yet there is another mode of getting over the difficulty which is not incompatible with the reading of the Folios. The exact word of the copies is 'inuisible.' This may have been intended not for 'invisible,' but for ' inusible ' — a strange form, no doubt ; yet ' intenible,' which we find in ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act I. 3. 208, and ' inaidible ' in the same play, Act II. 1. 122, may both match and justify it. Granted its admissibility, its applicability is incon- trovertible. Death, having preyed upon the outward organs and made them utterly useless, proceeds next to make havoc of the powers of the mind. KING JOHN. 199 Below in the 21st line, where the editions have Actv. 7. 21. 'cygnet,' the Folios have 'Symet;' the converse happens in ' Macbeth,' Act V. 3. 55, where ' cyTm ' of the copies is very properly printed ' senna ' in the editions. 200 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. KING RICHARD THE SECOND. Act 1. 2. 67-70. The Cambridge editors tell ns that the Quarto is the best authority for the text of ' King Richard The Second;' yet in Act I. 2. 67-70, where that copy has Alack, and what shall good old York there see But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ? And what chsere there for welcome but my groans ? they reject 'cheer' and give the preference to 'hear' which is the reading of the Folios. Unquestionably 'see' and 'hear' more closely correspond to each other than 'see' and 'cheer,' and 'hear' is the word which we should naturally have expected ; but, in calculating the probabilities .of what Shakespeare wrote, it is not always safe to build too much on what a modern critic would expect. Shakespeare is as fond of varying his diction as he is of observing correspondences. The occurrence of such a word as 'welcome' would in this particular instance have facilitated a change, 'cheer' and 'welcome' being reciprocally suggestive. Copyists do not usually set down the rarer word by KING EICHARD THE SECOND. 201 mistake in lieu of the more common one. Besides, the idea of hearing is contained in the phrase 'what cheer there for welcome.' Whether ' hear ' were inserted by Shakespeare when he revised the play, as is certainly possible, or were a correction by Shakespeare's friends when they undertook to collect his works, we cannot now decide, but I think it not improbable that ' cheer,' which is set down in the first Quarto, the earliest and most trustworthy impression, was the word which Shakespeare originally introduced. Nor would I be positive, as some critics are, that Act 1.3. 128, in Act I. 3. 128, And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect Of cruell wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword, ' civil ' was intended, where ' cruel ' is copied. 'Plough'd up with neighbours' sword ' is sufficient to indicate that the contest was a civil one. What we have here is not a possible contingency suggested to the mind, but a ghastly spectacle — 'dire aspect ' is the royal phrase — presented to the eye. Under these circumstances, ' cruel ' is no mere common descrip- tive epithet ; it is a sentimental one, expressive of the shocked feelings of one who as it were saw with his eyes the furrowed wounds ; how cruelly intestine war is wont to be waged, has been drawn by the masterly hand of Thucydides. ' Civil ' is the word of the historiographer and of the critic, but is not 202 HAED KNOTS IN SHAEESPEAEE. ' cruel ' the feeling exclamation of the eye-witness, and the vivid expression of the poet ? In ' Troilus and Oressida,' Prologue, line 5, we read, Fraught with the ministers and instruments Of cruel war. Act II. 1.246- I shall next say a word on the arrangement of the text in Act II. 1. 246-48, where some can see nothing but broken and imperfect remains. I do not agree with them. It is not uncommon, when some state- ment is made which is intended to be particularly emphatic, to give it point and prominence by putting it in an isolated position. Thus in • As You Like It ' ' Thou hast not loved ' is three times introduced (Act II. 4. 36, 39, 42), and each time it is made more impressive by being set in a line by itself. The same is done in ' Hamlet,' Act I. 1. 129, 132, 135. And so here ; the one fact which of all others was sure and certain was that Richard had forfeited the affections of all classes of his subjects. Accordingly the fact is emphasized by the special position which is assigned to it : The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, And quite lost their hearts : The nobles hath he fined for ancient quarrels, And quite lost their hearts. Act n. 2. 39- There is also disagreement among editors as to the way in which the stops should be set, and con- KING RICHAED THE SECOND. 203 sequently as to the exact meaning to be given to the queen's words, in Act II. 2. 39, 40. I allow but of one way of punctuating the passage, which, however, has not been approved of by the ' Globe ' editors ; But what it is that is not yet known what, I cannot name ; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. Further down — 108th and following lines — a portion Aotii.3.io8- of a speech of York's has incurred the suspicion of the same learned editors : Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? If I know how or which way to order these affairs Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen : The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend ; the other again Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd. The second of the above lines is the one which is actually obelized ; why, I can hardly say ; not surely from any dislike to the phrase ' how or which way, the frequent recurrence of which in Shakespeare is a pledge that it is genuine ; thus in ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act IV. 3. 156, ParoUes says I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will ; and in ' Two Gentlemen of Verona,' Act III. 1. 87, we read . How and which way I may bestow myself ; 204 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. and in « 1 Henry VI,' Act II. 1. 71-73, Then how or which way should they first break in ? Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case. How or which way ; 'tis sure they found some place. Ib it then because the line is an Alexandrine ? But the tedious length of an Alexandrine is neither out of place nor destitute of force in this passage, throughout the whole of which York shows, by his abrupt, laboured, hesitating, perplexed utterances, in what an extremely difficult position he suddenly finds himself, and how utterly unable he is to choose with resolution and act with energy. The first three words of the line, ' If I know,' must be taken as an anapaest, just as we have elsewhere 'If I were,' 'If our betters,' &c., &c.; so that it is not necessary, although it would be easy, to take the words 'If I,' and tack them on to the end of the shorter line which immediately precedes, in which line, as is not uncommon in Shakespeare's versification, ' gentlemen ' is equivalent to a dissyllable. One alteration I am sure that we must not make ; we must not attempt to give an easier flow and more smoothness to the third line of the above passage by placing ' disorderly ' after ' thrust,' instead of, as it stands, with all its rough strength and vigour, alike in all the Quartos and in all the Folios, before it. The order of the words ministers to the scene of disorder. ' Disorderly ' has KING KICHAED THE SECOND, 206 as much right to its place, as ' detestable ' has in the lines, which no one ivould, and no one could alter, And I will kiss thy detestable bones ; Thou detestable man. Any interference of the metre-mongers here is as unnecessary as it is mischievous. Even in the last line, the emphasis which was intended to be laid on ' whom ' gives it the time of a dissyllable, though Shakespeare would probably have pleased some critics better, had he written The other again, 3$ is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd. ' Something,' it has been said, ' has doubtless dropped Act iii. 2. out ' in Act III, 2, 175-77, where my text-book has 1 1 live with bread hke you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends ; subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king ? But here again, the lack in the measure of the verse may have been intended by the poet, in order to bring out into striking relief the lack of means com- plained of by the king, ' Something is wanting,' the critics cry ; * something is wanting,' is kipg Richard's lament ; the expression matches the matter ; the effect is impressive and significant. If, however, it were necessary to excogitate an emendation, I should certainly not side with those who affirm that the * best suggestion is that of Sydney .Walker,' who 206 HABB KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. after ' needs friends ' thrusts in ' fear enemies.' I really think that, without assuming too much to myself, I can o£fer something more plausible than that. If Shakespeare had written I live with bread like you, like you feel want, Taste grief, need friends like you ; subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king ? the very repetition and close proximity of the under- lined words might have facilitated the omission of - them. Some such arrangement we have in ' The Winter's Tale,' Act IV. 4. 138, When you .sing, I'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, Pray so ; but I hear the judicious critic cry, ' Ohe, ohe ! ' — •Enough, enough ! This is like mending of high ways in summer, when the ways are fine enough.' Act V. 1. 25. It matters not a straw, so far as the sense is concerned, whether in Act V. 1. 25, we read 'stricken' with the Folios, or ' thrown ' with the 'first four Quartos. On the supposition, however, that the Quarto is the most reliable authority, there is no vietrical reason why we should not follow it here, as elsewhere. In Shakespeare's prosody ' thrown ' is as good for a dissyllable as 'stricken.' I need not present it in the form of ' throwen,' after the analogy of 'wreathen,' 'shotten,' 'strucken,' ' foughten, 'fretten,' KING RICHARD THE SECOND. 207 ' droven,' — all used by Shakespeare — I need not point to the use of other monosyllables as dissyllables, in order to support my contention ; I will merely quote a line from ' Pericles,' Act V. 3. 23, where * thrown ' is actually used, just as, according to the Quartos, it is here : Thrown upon this shore, I oped the coffin. Aye, ' thrown ' — and I am not sure that * thrown,' though passed over by some for ' stricken,' is not the more ponderous and forcible and therefore more eligible word here. Accordingly I write Which our profane hours here have thrown down. Does not the critic hear the thud ? 208 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. KING HENEY THE FOUETH. Part I. Act 1. 1. 6-6. In ' The First Part of King Henry The Fourth,' at the very commencement of the play, a word of com- mon use and simple meaning, by the connexion in which it stands, forces itself on the attention of the reader and fills him with siirprise and perplexity. As he repeats the lines — Act I. 1. 5-6 — No more the thirsty entrancer of this soil Shall daub her lips with her bwn children's blood, he hesitates at the word ' entrance,' and sceptically inquires whether that is the reading of the copies, whether it can be correct, what other word it is possible and probable that Shakespeare may have written. Nor is he singular in his perplexity. Pages have been written on the passage ; numerous emen- dations have been proposed ; I shall add one page more, not for the purpose of starting one more emendation, but to defend the reading of the Quarto, KING HENEY THE FOUETH. — PAET I. 209 and to indicate one or two meanings which it seems to me that it is capable of bearing. And the first in order of mention will probably be reckoned first also in merit. According to it, * entrance ' is used to designate an organic part of the earth's personified body. The lips are the portals of the mouth ; through them the ' entrance ' into it is effected ; the streams of blood that were drunk, as they passed into the mouth, surged over, through the narrowness of the ' entrance,' and daubed the lips ; and thus, what in reality was caused by the gory fluid, may be said to have been occasioned by the ' entrance ' through which it was admitted. This explanation is in keeping with the imagery, and makes the epithet ' thirsty ' apply to the earth, as having craved for or at any rate „ copiously imbibed the horrid drink. Or, secondly, * entrance ' may not denote a vital and constituent part of the earth's body at all, but something extraneous to and independent of it. We still regard the earth as a person ; her habitation is coextensive with the soil from which she derives or to which she gives her name; as the sea-God is masked by the sea, as the river-Gods by the waters, so the earth is concealed by a layer, more or less thick, of the soil under which she dwells— it is this outer stratum, this ' entrance ' as it were of the soil, 210 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. through which the blood that is shed upon it quickly sinks, to be drunk, whether she wills it or not, by the great subterranean mother herself. The rapidity with which it permeates the superficial cruet justifies perhaps the application of ' thirsty ' to ' entrance ' rather than to the earth, to whom, strictly speaking, it would more properly belong. There is^a third mode of treating the passage, which varies considerably from the two preceding ones, and which, in default of them, may perhaps deserve a place. The ' thirsty entrance of this soil ' may be a bold periphrasis for an invader setting foot on the land, thirsting for one or other of those many objects which usually influence such adventurers, and which may be summed up under the two heads of private interest or public utility ; it is even possible that ' entrance ' may be used tov the person who enters, just as elsewhere ' conduct ' stands for ' conductor,' 'revolts' for ' revolters,' 'medicine' for 'medical practitioner,' 'liberties of sin ' for ' sinful libertines,' and in ' Much Ado About Nothing ' a certain person is said to be ' turned orthography.' But, be this as it may, it is certain that the king is referring to recent events in the national history, and jt is possible that he may be excusing the part which he himself had taken therein, and lamenting the necessity — such is the common plea of all these scourges of their kind KING HENRY THE FOURTH. — PART I. 211 — which had compelled him to" disembark on the coast of Yorkshire, unfurl the banner of rebellion, and pollute his country with blood. As a slight confirmation of this view of the passage, it may be mentioned that, after the king had referred to the first landing on the soil (supposing that 'entrance' may allude to that event), he proceeds to mention the march into the inland country, where the fields were channelled with trenching war, and the flowers bruised by the armed hoofs of hostile paces. The regular progress of the invader would thus be delineated. The next passage which I shall notice requires, I Act iv. i. si. think, to be emended rather than explained. It occurs in Act IV. 1. 31, where Hotspiir is comment- ing on the contents of a letter which he had just received from his father, who politicly excused himself on various pretexts from joining at that critical moment the insurgent army. He writes me here, that inward sickness — And that his friends by deputation could not So soon be drawn. Here there is a violation both of the metre and the syntax. The most that can be said for the first line, as it stands, is that Hotspur just reads enough of the sentence to get the pith of it, and then, leaving it unfinished, hurries on, impatient to hear what comes next. Such hot-headed haste, it must be admitted, 212 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. would be eminently characteristic of the speaker, who, much as he was concerned that the Trent should run on straight and even, for the straightness and even- ness of the grammar would care not a groat. In my opinion, however, there is a surer, easier, more natural explanation. Allow for a little illegible writing — allow for a little confusedness consequent on the words having been jumbled together rather too closely, and * sickness ' and ' sick-he-is ' are all but identical. Unfortunately the former word has usurped the place of the latter, but the latter have a metrical and grammatical right to it. That Shake- speare did not disdain to end a line with some part or other of the substantive Verb may be seen from the following examples, Which harm within itself so heinous is. 'King John,' Act III. 1. 40 ; From helmet to the spur all blood he was. ' King Henry V,' Act IV. 6. 6 ; For by my mother I derived am. ' I King Henry VI,' Act II. 6. 74. With some confidence, therefore, I restore to the passage what I believe to be Shakespeare's own line, He writes me here that inward sick he is. Act V. 2. 8. I am not aware what amount of objection has been raised to Act V. 2. 8, where editors seem to have settled to their own satisfaction that ' supposition ' — such is the reading of the copies — is a mistake for KING HENRY THE FOURTH. PART I. 213 ' suspicion,' and so ' suspicion ' they have printed. But Worcester had only a moment before said He will suspect us still and find 9. time To punish this offence in other fstults, and I hardly think that Shakespeare would have made him repeat himself immediately afterwards, by adding Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes. May not that long awkward word ' supposition ' have been intended for a yet longer word • supposititious,' which was a critic's gloss expressive of his opinion that the whole line was an interpolation ? Certain it is that, if the line were omitted, it would not be missed. The words of the speaker would flow on just as continuously and just as connectedly. If it be said that the phrase is undoubtedly a Shakespearian one, I answer ' Undoubtedly, and perhaps borrowed from one of those passages where it actually occurs ?' But mark how differently it is used here from what it is elsewhere. In ' Measure for Measure,' Act IV. 1. 60-61, where we have O place and greatness ! millions- of false eyes Are stuck upon thee, and in ' A Lover's Complaint,' line 81, where we read That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face, it is in the one case the person desired, in the other the person gazed at, who is said to -be stuck all over 214 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. with eyes ; and by parity of expression we should have expected here not ' Suspicion stuck full of eyes' — Suspicion's eyes are never wanting — but the per- sons who were the objects of suspicion, who in this particular instance were Vernon and Worcester. If the whole line is not a forgery, rather than suppose that ' supposition ' was intended for ' suspicion ' I would remove the former word altogether as a para- sitical fungus which had got attached to the original line, and I would substitute for it the pronoun ' we,' which continually recurs throughout the speech and may have been accidentally omitted. This would give us We all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes, a line of the normal length, Shakespearian in expression, and unexceptional as regards meaning. For, if once it were whispered that the king suspected them, numbers of eyes, other than the king's, would be constantly upon them. But, although I have nothing more than ' supposition ' on which to found my opinion, I have a strong ' suspicion ' that the line is ' supposititious ?' Act V. 2. In conclusion, I may notice a singular ellipse of a "■^^' verb in Act V. 2. 77-79. Better consider what you have to do Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue, Can lift your blood up with persuasion. KING HENEY THE FOURTH. — PART I. 215 The verb, of which • I ' is the subject, is not actually expressed in any part of the sentence, but has to be taken out of the verbal phrase * lift up with persua- sion,' the construction being 'than I persuade ' — i.e. attempt to persuade — 'you, who have not well the gift of tongue, which can lift your blood up with persuasion." I am well aware, however, that this is not the only way in which it is possible to construe the sentence. 216 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKKSPEARE. KING HENRY THE FOURTH. Part ll. 36-37. Act 1. 3. I shall now proceed to probe one or two passages in the Second Part of * King Henry The Fourth ' which are suspected of unsoundness. In Act I. 3. 36-37 there is certainly corruption, though it is susceptible of treatment, if not of cure. ' Should expectations and hopes be taken into account in forming- an estimate of military resources ?' — this is the question on which the debate turns in a council of war held in the palace of the Archbishop of York. Hastings contends that they should ; But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. Lord Bardolph takes the opposite view and states his case clearly enough, but the first two lines of his speech are clogged with difficulty, owing probably to a word having been set down by the copyist, which, though it resembled, did not reproduce the word of KING HENEY THE FOURTH. — PART II. 217 the original. The lines are thus given in the ' Grlobe ' Shakespeare : Yes, if this present quality of war, Indeed the inBtant action : a cause on foot Lives so in hope as in an early spring We see the appearing buds ; which to prove fruit Hope gives not so much warrant as despair That frosts will bite them. It is manifest that in the first two lines some emen- dation is necessary, but none has yet been suggested which can be pronounced altogether satisfactory. What is wanted is some verb to take the place of the adverb 'indeed.' The verb 'indued,' used often enough and sometimes rather peculiarly by Shake- speare, may be the verb that we are looking for. To Hastings' assertion that it never yet did hurt to lay down likelihoods and forms of hope Lord Bardolph answers, 'Yes, it did hurt,' if this present quality of war,' that is to say, this warring on hope, this dependence on a bubble, this speculative gambling spirit, ' indued the instant action ' — were the covering to hide its nakedness, stuffed and padded its thin skeleton-like frame, were the blood to colour it, the soul to quicken it, the power in reserve to reinforce and renew it. ' Instant action,' which is the more particular expression, indicates a battle on the very eve of being fought, just as in ' 1 Henry IV,' Act IV. 4. 20, we have I fear the power of Percy is to^ weak To wage an instant trial with the king ; 218 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. • a cause on foot ' — the more general term — refers to a war already proclaimed and begun. The sense which I have given to ' indued ' is somewhat ana- logous to that which it bears in ' Othello,' Act III. 4. 146, For let our finger ache, and it indues Our other healthful members even to that sense Of pain. So far as resemblance to ihe word of the copies is concerned, ' indued ' can hardly be bettered. We have merely to erase the comma after ' war,' and in the room of ' indeed ' introduce ' indued.' Act IV. 1.60. In Act IV. 1. 50 the commentators are in doubt, whether Turning your books to graves is the exact phrase which Shakespeare indited. It has been thought that ' greaves ' would be more suitable. The change would be insignificant, the meaning unexceptionable, the leather which bound the Archbishop's books being capable of being manufactured into that particular part of a soldier's equipment. Moreover, it is -credible that ' greaves ' was sounded like 'graves.' Notwithstanding, the word of the copies is not inappropriate, I am not sure that it is not preferable. When it is said that the Archbishop turned his ink to blood, it is not meant that the ink became blood, but merely that KING HENRY THE TOURTH. — PART II. 219 he was intent on clipping into blood and not into ink : and similarly his pen was not turned into a lance, but the pen was dropped and the lance poised in its stead : and so with the tongue ; and so with the trumpet : when, then, the ArchbisTiop is said to be turning his books to ' graves,' it is not necessary to suppose that his books or any portion of them were actually used for military purposes, but simply that he left his study and his books, to deal with the battle-field, the slaughter, and the burial of the dead. Or I might put it thus : the Archbishop, instead of taking up his pen, and dipping it into ink, and composing a learned book which would be a monu- ment to his memory, was poising the lance, and going to dip it into the blood of his countrymen, and the work, which he would be thus engaged in and which would be remembered as his, would be not a book nor a library of books, but a grave pr rather a yardful of graves ; a grave-maker he would be, and not a bookmaker. That ' graves ' rather than • greaves ' is the genuine word, is rendered further probable by the order in which the several things referred to stand relatively to each other. To begin with the last first . and proceed in retrograde fashion, we observe first the military arrangements — ' a point of war ;' next, the signal for battle — the ' trumpet ;' after that, the charge and the combat — the ' lance ' ; then the slaughter— the blood ;' last of all, what should, what 220 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. must come ? What but the burial of the dead — the • graves ? ' ' Greaves ' here would be out of place and would spoil the picture of the battle. There is reason, therefore, for the editors iiot departing from the reading of the Folio. Act IV. 1. 88- A little further on in the same Act and Scene we 96 come to a spirited dialogue between the Duke of Westmoreland on the king's side, and the Arch- bishop of York on the side of the insurgents. West, When ever yet was your appeal denied ? Wherein have you been galled by the king ? What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you, That you should seal this lawless bloody book Of forged rebellion with a seal divine And consecrate commotion's bitter edge ? Arch, f My brother general, the commonwealth, To brother born an household cruelty, I make my quarrel in particular. I must not omit to mention here that the last line of Westmoreland's speech and the second of the Archbishop's are not in the Folios nor in every copy of the Quarto ; their obliterati@n would greatly reduce, if it did not annihilate,the difficulty. Notwithstanding,, as they are found in that particular copy of the Quarto which is declared to be the most trustworthy authority for this play, we must not refuse to take them, into account ; for, to use the words of Bacon, KING HENRY THE FOURTH. — PART 11. 221 we must not 'reject difficulties for want of patience in investigation.' On taking a general survey of the whole passage, what strikes me first and foremost is the different cast and character of the two speeches ; the contrast is very striking — in the one, indignant interrogatory, repeated fervid appeal, angry upbraiding, flowers of rhetoric ; in the other, a cold calm concise dry judicial statement. The Archbishop's reply has been thought wanting in clearness, confused, corrupt. Various efforts have been made to elucidate, to emend it. I admit that it embarasses and almost staggers us at first ; the arrangement is preposterous ; the phraseology peculiar j yet I do not believe that the Archbishop has been misreported ; nor can I allow that his words are ill-placed or ill-chosen or that they are otherwise than lucid. We have to ex- amine them in close connection with Westmoreland's chidings ; we have to consider the effect which such ideas as Westmoreland's would bb likely to have on one of the Archbishop's spirit, discernment, and high pretensions ; we must call to recollection, too, certain facts of history. Westmoreland had proceeded on the supposition that the Archbishop felt personally aggrieved and was seeking for personal satisfaction ; he had twitted him with ingratitude and branded him as a rebel 222 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. and apostate ; but he had not said one syllable of the public welfare or the cause of humanity. The Archbishop, cool, calm, collected, perceived his advantage, and seized it. He occupied at once the lofty summit of patriotism and humanity, and in three lines confounds his adversary. The interests of the commonwealth — the late king's violated majesty — these he places, and purposely places, and proudly places, in the very fore-front of his reply, in order to contrast with, and stand directly opposed to, Westmoreland's miserable grovellings. These were the Archbishop's motives ; these touched him personally ; these were his grievances ; these his quarrel. The measured tone, the air of lofty superiority, with which he uttered the words I make my quarrel in particular, can be better conceived than expressed. If we had heard the Archbishop's own elocution, there would have been no possibility, I think, of misunder- standing his meaning. To come now to particulars, ' the commonwealth ' he calls his ' brother-general,' just as in 'Coriolanus,' Act II. 3. 102, a certain one is ready to call the people his ' sworn brother,' though the expression, coming Irom an Archbishop's mouth, may be thought to have a more comprehensive significance, and to savour somewhat of Christian theology . The act of ' cruelty' referred to is Bolijigbroke's treatment of Richard ; KING HENEY THE FOUETH. — PAET 11. 223 ' household cruelty ' it is called, to distinguish it from ' commonwealth cruelty ;' ' brother-born ' is an additional aggravation ; for, if the Archbishop were bound to the people at large by the tie of a general brotherhood, by a dearer and nearer relationship was Bolingbroke bound to Eichard — was not a * brother- general ' merely, but a ' brother-born,' seeing that they had both sprung from the same blood royal. The same two capital reasons are elsewhere alleged as the pretext and justification of the rebellion. In Act I. 1. 200-209 Morton says to Northumberland, But now the bishop Turns insurrection to religion : And doth enlarge his rising with the^ Ihod Of /air King Eichard, scraped from Pomfret stones ; Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause ; Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land. Gasping for hfe under great Bolingbroke. It has been thought by some more likely that the Archbishop refers to the death of his own brother, Lord Scroop—' 1 Henry IV,' 1. 3— and that Westmoreland would most certainly have so under- stood him; but it should be borne in mind, that, however much the Archbishop might desire to revenge his brother's death, he could not decently proclaim that to the public ear as the cause of his 224 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. uprising ; it would be more politic to dissemble his private wrongs, to smother his personal resentment ; but the safety of the state, the cruel treatment of the king — these were more specious pretexts. And that this was the Archbishop's meaning is evident from Morton'sr account of the Archbishop's public manifesto, as given in the passage I have just quoted. Nor am I here ' catching at shadows of resemblance.' KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 225 KING HENRY THE FIFTH. The first passage which I shall notice in ' King Act i. Henry The Fifth ' consists of a couple of lines in the second Scene of the first Act, at the end of a long and learned dissertation delivered by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in support of his thesis that the king of England could rightfully claim the crown of France : Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law To bar your highness claiming from th^ female, And rather choose to hide them in a net Than amply to imbar their crooked titles XJsurp'd from you and your progenitors. The puzzle here is to find a meaning for the verb ' imbar ' — spelt ' imbarre ' in the Folio — which the word will bear and which the passage seems to require. It may help to clear the way somewhat and be of advantage to us, if we explain in the first instance what is meant by the French hiding them in a net. The Archbishop argues that, in their -eagerness to vitiate king Henry's title, the French had hunted up 91-95. 226 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. an old law called the Salique law, which excluded from the succession all those who claimed, as the EngHsh king did, from the female. This law, according to the Archbishop, did not touch the question at all, as the Salian land was a distinct configuration from the French land. He supposes, however, that it were otherwise, that the lands were one and the same, and that the law was applicable, and he proceeds to show that the effect of it would be to vitiate the title not of the English king only, but of a large number of the French kings as well — the reigning monarch among the ntmber — forasmuch as they held in right and title of the female. It was in this way, then, that the French had hidden them in a net ; they had taken shelter in a law in the meshes of which they themselves had been caught. And tliis they had chosen to do rather Than amply to imbar their crooked titles. These words, it is obvious, miist be antithetical to those which immediately precede them. Whatever be their meaning, of this we may be sure, that the sum and substance of the Archbishop's counsel to the French must be that they should have done with their artful chicanery, and submit tO have the question decided in a fair and straightforward manner accord- ing to the recognised law of succession. Now, supposing that ' amply ' contains the idea of large KING HENRY THE PiPTH. 227 and handsome dealing, which is pretty much the sense that it bears in the phrases, ' ample amends,' ' ample security,' the spirit indicated by it will be directly opposed to the sly trickery attributed to the French in the previous line ; and, if 'imbar' may be allowed to mean, what Mr. Knight informs us that an anonymous expositor declares that it may mean, ' to bring to the bar of judgment,' we haVe already a sense which fulfils the antithesis which the passage requires. As, however, there is no instance, that I know of, of ' imbar ' ever having been used in this sense, and as I am by no means sanguine that it can be so used, I venture to offer another, and, unless I am mistaken, a bettor explanation. I shall assume that ' imbar ' is used here in pretty nearly the same sense as the simple verb ' bar,' just as ' pawn ' and ' impawn,' ' paint ' and ' impaint,' are used elsewhere almost indifferently. When, then, it is said that the French did not choose to imbar their crooked titles, it is merely another way of saying — it is an abridged and perfectly allowable way of saying — that they did not choose to rest on a law which would imbar those titles; what would be done by the laiv, is said to be done by themselves — a well-known figure of speech, which, though it has embarrassed all the expositors, would be quite intelligible to the learned congregation which the Archbishop was at the time addressing. Thus 228 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. interpreted, the two lines stand in capital anti- thetical relation to each other. This mode of dealing with the passage is surely better than to entertain such a word as 'imbare,' or to read, as Pope wished to do, 'openly to embrace' in lieu of 'amply to imbar.' Were thei'e room for conjecture, I would far rather shape otit something from the Quarto's word 'imbrace,' and regard it as a corruption of 'abase,' so as to make the Archbishop say, that the handsome thing for the French to have done would have been to lower their pretensions — to ahase their crooked titles, OT rather to erase them altogether. But I hold fast to the explanation which I have given above, as, updn the whole, a fair solution of a problem which is by no means free from difficulty. Act I. 2. 126- A little further on, in the same Act and Scene, we 127. find Westmoreland and Exeter urging the king to proclaim the war which the Archbishop had declared to be lawful. Exeter having said Your brother kings and monarclis of the earth Do all expect that you should rouse yourself As did the former lions of your blood, Westmoreland continues — 125-27 — They know your grace hath cause and means and might ; So hath your highness — never king of England Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 229 The usual mode of pointing these last lines is to put a semicolon after 'highness,' the effect of which is to emphasize 'hath,' which consequently would have for its object the nouns 'cause and means and might,' understood from the preceding line. I have punctuated differently, and I construe and interpret differently. I place a hyphen rather than a semicolon after 'highness,' anji consider that Westmoreland, having either intended to say, or made a feint of intending to say, ' so hath your highness rich nobles and loyal subjects,' suddenly breaks off, as not satisfied with that mode of ex- pressing himself, or as having been struck with a more appropriate and felicitous .one ; anyhow, this breaking off of his, whether a courtly ruse or not, rivets the attention more than ^ver to what he is going to say of the king, whom with exquisite adulation, the more telling because seemingly Unpremeditated, he pinnacles above all the monarchs who had preceded him. Grammatically, then, 'hath' borrows for its object 'rich nobles and loyal subjects' from the sentence which follows; dram- atically, it has no object; the finishing stroke is given in a fresh and finer combination. This view of the passage, though quite tenable and eminently Shakespearian, is yet so different from that which is ordinarily taken, that I shall make no 230 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. apology for introducing here a few examples, taken from other plays, which may servfe to illustrate and confirm what seems at first sight a very improbable interpretation. Thus in this very play we have, Act I. 1. 3, My lord, I'll tell you ; that self bill is urged, Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd ; where the full expression would have been ' was like to have passed;' 'Eichardll,' Act Y. 5. 27, Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame, That many have and others must sit there ; that is, ' many have sat, and others must sit ;' ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act I. 3. 288-89, And may that soldier a mere recreant prove. That means not, hath not, or is not in love ; i.e. ' means not to be, hath not been, or is not ;' 'All's Well That Ends Well,' Act II. 5. 51-52, I have spoken better of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand, which is equivalent to 'better than you have deserved.' Eeserving for future notice a much more startling illustration, I shall merely add here, that, although the examples which I have given do not of course prove conclusively that my mode of stopping and explaining the passage is the right one, they go to KING HENBY THE FIFTH. 231 show that it is not repugnant to Shakespeare's usage — that it is possible — I go farther and say, that it is not only probable, but preferable to any other. A word which occurs in a speech of king Henry's Act i. 2. 273- in the same Act and Scene, lines 273-75, must next be considered; But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, Be like a king and show my sail of greatness, When I do rouse me in my throne of t'rance. ' Sayle ' is the exact word which is found in the first, second, and third Folios, for which some have desired to write 'soul,' which they think was certainly Shakespeare's word and much more appropriate. The conjecture is plausible; the change insignificant; the sense yielded unexceptionable ; yet, if emendation is to be thought of, there is another word which may fairly be put in to compete for thie place. The Dauphin having taunted the English king with low tastes and mean ambition, the latter might not inaptly bid tell the Dauphin that he would be Like a king, and show his zeal of greatness. This change, though at first sight it seems con- siderable, is in reality hardly a change at all. The letter s is continually sounded like z, and z like s; ea was more often pronounced like long a in Shakes- peare's time than it is in our own ; ' mmt ' was ' mate,' 232 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. and in ' King Henry VIII,' Act III. 1. 9-10, ' sea ' rhymes to 'play,' Everything that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea : We may be pretty sure, then, that ' zeal ' was pronounced like the French z^le,^ and probably by not a few exactly like ' sail; ' the error once written was little likely to be challenged, when so many other more serious ones escaped detection. I have so far humoured the suspicions of the critics, as to notice a plausible conjecture and to suggest another possible one; but I am not disposed in this particular instance to part with the litera scripta of the copies for the guess-word of any emendator. That nautical phraseology should be current among an island people, at a time when nautical enterprise was enormously stimulated by startling discoveries and dashing sea-fights which yielded rich prizes, needs surprise no one. The gallant and glorious deeds of naval heroes, which were talked of in the streets, were glanced at in the theatres, and were received with great gladness and enthusiastic clappings ; hits of this kind Shakespeare well knew how to make ; ' sail ' he uses in two senses — in the more limited one as part of a ship's tackle, and in its larger signification of a ship's course. In the latter sense it occurs in 'King John,' Act V. 7. 53, And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail, Are turned to one thread, one little hair ; KING HENEY THE FIFTH. 233 ' Othello,' Act V. 2. 268, And very sea-mark of your utmost sail ; Sonnet, The proud full sail of his great verse. According to this sense of it, the king would intimate that, though France might be to him a sea of trouble and its horizon might lour with tempests, yet he would sail on his course day by day, and give proof of that greatness, for his supposed lack of which the Dauphin had taunted him. If, however, the other meaning of ' sail ' be thought preferable, we can abundantly illustrate it by such passages as follow : ' 2 Henry IV,' Act V. 2. 17-18, How many nobles then should hold their places, That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort ! 'SHenry VI,' Actlll. 3. 5, No, mighty King of France : now Margaret Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve. ' 3 Henry VI,' Act V. 1. 62, I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face, Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee. I conclude, then, that 'sail,' authorized as I believe it to be by the Folios, should on no account be discarded. As little reason is there for swerving from the Aot^ji. 2. i38- track of the Fohos in Act II. 2. 138-40, where the 140, 234 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. king, upbraiding Lord Scroop with his ingratitude and treachery, says And thus thy fall hath left 9, kind of blot To make the full-fraught man and best indued With some suspicion. Place a comma, nay, only conceive a comma placed, after 'man,' and another after 'best,' and where is the difficulty ? What possibility is there of mistaking either the construction or the meaning ? That Pope should have abstained from meddling is proof enough of itself that Theobald's proposed change of ' make ' to ' mark ' is quite unnecessary ; yet even when Theobald strays many follow. Act m. 3. 33 It has been deemed incredible that in Act III. 3. 35, where the king warns the citizens of Harfleur of the terrible consequences which would ensue if they rejected his proffered mercy, Shakespeare could have written look to see The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand Desire the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters. What! nothing more terrible than 'desire' from an infuriated soldiery, let loose, like so many hell- hounds, on a stormed city ! Kowe was the first to throw a little more devilry into the text by changing ' desire ' into ' defile.' Carried .away by the unanimity with which all the critics condemned ' desire,' yet KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 235 not quite satisfied with Eowe's conjecture, I at one time cast about for something better, and, remembering that, when a messenger brought ill tidings to Cleopatra, the ungovernable passion of the Egyptian queen vented itself in 'the ferocious threat — the unparalleled expression — 'I'll unhair your head ' — I ventured to ask myself whether here too a special word might not have been coined for a special occasion — a word without a parallel — a horrible compound — the word 'dishair,' the faint echo of which I fancied I caught in ' desire ; ' but, after further consideration I have come to the conclusion that the word, which we have, may possibly be the word which Shakespeare wrote. ' To desire with the hand ' — what is it but to stretch out the hand for, to lust to seize, a booty almost within reach, but not yet actually grasped. ' To defile with the hand ' is to have the booty already in their filthy grasp. The one is a picture of the virgins flying with shrill shrieks from their bloody pursuers, who with outstretched hands are eager to seize their flowing locks ; the other is a picture of them already in the hands of the ruffian soldiers. Both are equally picturesque — equally terrible. Perhaps the former is more delicately touched and more exquisitely wrought; the latter is certainly ruder and more masterly; in spite of the savagery of the scene depicted, it is not impossible that the 236 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. artist-poet may have given expression here to the former. Activ,i.262. There is a fine passage in the 4th Act, be^nning at the 257th hne of the first Scene, where the king, sohloquizing on the_ vanity of kingly greatness, addresses ceremony as a living personal entity, and questions her as to who, or what she was, and why such extraordinary value was set upon her, such extraordinary worship was paid to her. 'Place, degree, and form ' he could conceive her as being, but he exclaims, What are thy rents ? what are thy comings in ? ceremony, show me but thy worth ! What is thy soul of adoration ? It is the last line which has a mark set against it by the ' Globe ' editors, and I have printed it as they have, disregarding the note of interrogation after 'what,' and also 'Odoration' — which is merely a copyist's mode of spelling ' adoration ' — both of which disfigure the first Folio. Now, if adoration had been something more than an attitude — a gesture ; if it had been something capable of being apprehended and appraised, the royal querist might have said simply ' what is the adoration that is accorded to thee ?' But, inasmuch as he craves for something more than an empty name or idle motion, inasmuch as he labours to get at the heart of the KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 237 matter and to find out something definite and precise about her, he does not put it so, But he says ' What is the soul of the adoration that is paid thee, which can be said to be truly thine !' What is there which is, and not merely appears ? which has a real and sterling, and not merely an ideal and nominal value ? which is constant and abiding, not ephemeral and fleeting ? What is there which has a principle of vitality, and is no mere cold dead form ? He seeks, in a word, to find the soul, and refuses to be mocked with a fine fantastic shape. As a soul is attributed to adoration here, so elsewhere to joy, beauty, goodness. 238 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. KING HENRY THE SIXTH. Pabt I. Act 1. 1.56. There is very little indeed which requires special comment from me in any one of the three parts of 'King Henry The Sixth;' what revision has been necessary, and at the same time possible, has been fairly accomplished by the assiduous industry of successive critics. Yet in Act I. 1. 56 there is still a line left unfinished, a word wanting, a gap in the text to be filled ; and, although it is of course impossible to say for certain what the word was that originally completed both the metre and the sense, in this instance we happen to have a better chance than usual of making a lucky guess, as we are circumscribed in our selection by three considerations. In the first place, the word must be a proper name; in the second place, it must be such as the metre will admit; in the third place, it must be recommended by histbric fitness. We have to discover, if we can, in the vast expanse of the political horizon a soul- star that may shine by the side of the Julium sidus. The brilliancy of Charle- KING HENRY THE SIXTH. — PAET I. 239 magne's career has been thought by Some to entitle him to the place, and 'great Charlemain' actually occurs in 'All's Well That Ends Well.' I give the preference to Constantine, whom Gibbon— and his testimony in this instance is above suspicion — has not hesitated to pronounce 'great.' Like C«sar, Constantine was famous for military activity and successful achievement; both triumphed over domestic rivals and a barbarian foe; both founded a dyiJksty and an empire ; both were exalted to divine honours in a pagan, and Constantine in a Christian heaven as well. In this very play — ^Act I. 2. 142 the name of Constantine figures conspicuously:* Helen, the mother of great Constantine, Nor yet St. Philip's daughters were hke thee, Bright star of Venus, fallen down to the earth. If, therefore, as I think probable, Shakespeare completed the line, the Duke of Bedford may well have been made to couple together the two great luminaries of the Eastern and the Western world, of Byzantium and of Rome. It is a matter of infinitesimally small consequence. Act 1. 1. 62. whether, in the 62nd line of this same Act and Scene, the note of interrogation stands at the end of the line, or in the middle of it, although I confess I have a decided preference for What say'st thou, man ? Before dead Henry's corse Speak softly, &c. 240 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. but it is not a matter of small consequence, how we place the stops — I am now taking a long jump — in Ac^^iv. 6. 42- Act rV. 6. 42-47. By substituting a note of exclam- ation for the ordinary comma, I venture to think that I not only simplify a somewhat complicated sentence, but I give clearness to the meaning and throw spirit and fire into a soldier's utterance. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart ; These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart : On that advantage, bought with such a shame, •> To save a paltry life, and slay bright fame ! Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly. The coward horse that bears me fall and die ! ■ A sentiment and a spirit wbrthy of the gallant son of a gallant sire! The infinitives, 'to save,' 'to slay,' like Virgil's Mene incepto desistere victam ! are infinitives of indignant remonstrance. That Shakespeare well knew how to turn them to account, the following examples will show, Louis marry Blanche ! Thou wear a lion's hide ! This lord go to him ! She, in spite of nature. Of years, of country, credit, everything. To fall in love with what she feared to look on ! I add to the list the words that were spoken by young John Talbot. KING HENRY THE SIXTH. — PART I. 241 We might read the 70th and 71st lines of Act V, Act v. 3. 70. Scene 3, without being in the least aware that we had come to a part of the play which had exercised the ingenuity of commentators, but a glance at the foot-notes in the Cambridge Shakespeare shows us that, ;where the copies have Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough, even Capell would have altered to ' makes the senses crouch,' Collier to 'mocks the sense of touch,' another to 'wakes the sense's touch,' and generally editors seem to be under the impressiori that the fag end of the line is faulty. But the fault lies with the would-be emendators; Shakespeare knew well what he was about, when he set down what the copies ascribe to him. There is an allusion to the confusion and awkwardness, the rudeniess and want of self-possession, which are occasionally observed in some — not usually so affected — when they are ushered into the presence of some great personage, or confronted by the gaze of some world-famed beauty. The following quotations may be read with advantage. 'As You Like It,' Act I. 2. 269, What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. 242 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. 'Merchant of Venice,' Act III. 2. 177, Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins ; And there is such confasion in my powers, As, after some oration, &e. Compare also 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act V. 1. 93. Act V. 3. 193. A Uttle below in the 193rcl line the first Folio reads 'mad natural graces,' which editors have changed to 'And natural graces;' possibly Shakespeare wrote i/a«y-natural graces that .extinguish art, a compound formed after the analogy of 'maid-pale,' which is found elsewhere. Act V. 5. 64. I shall only add that in Sh&kespeare's versification ' contrary ' may be pronounced in the time of either a trisyllable or a quadrisyllable, and the quantity of its penultimate is sometimes long, sometimes short. The reader, then, may scan the 64th line of Act V, Scene 5, Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, as he likes, provided he is content to let it alone. KING HENEY THE SIXTH. — PART II. 243 KING HENEY THE SIXTH. Part II. I pass on to the Second Part of ' King Henry The Act i. 3, 153. Sixth,' where critics might have saved themselves the trouble of trying to mend the metre in Act I. 3. 153, She's tickled now ; her fume needs no apurs, if they had recollected that ' tickle ' in particular, and words of similar termination generally, are repeat- edly used by Shakespeare as trisyllables, so that all corrections here are nugatory. But in Act II. 1. 26, where Gloucester says to the Act 11. 1.26. Cardinal Churchmen so hot I Good uncle, hide such malice ; With such hoHness can you do it. a word of comment is not out of place ; a full stop at the end of the last line is right, a note of interro- gation wrong. For Gloucester does not so much twit the Cardinal for inconsistency, at he sneers at him 244 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. for his hypocrisy, as though it were easy for him to use his hohneas as a cloak of his mahce ; and he distinctly intimates that the Cardinal would have no compunction in so using it. Let the learned critics rail at the little phrase ' do it ' as much as they will, it is one that is used so repeatedly in conversation in the great theatre of the world, that it is surprising that any should doubt the probability, or question the propriety, of its being used in the course of a dialogue in the tiny theatre in which ' King Henry the Sixth ' was acted. The critics are too crotchety. I grant that the line seems to halt, but the slow deliberate measured way, the peculiar tone of voice, with which this stinging insult would be conveyed, may account for its shortness, and make it quite equal in length to one of ordinary measure. Activ.10.56. There is one more passage in this Second Part, on which I am anxious to say a word : it is in Act IV. 10. 56, where Alexander Iden is represented as saying to Cade, Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon ; My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast ; And if mine arm be heaved in- the air, Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth. As for words, whose greatness answers words, Let this my sword report what speech forbears. The difficulty is confined to the last two lines, and is partly of a textual, partly of an interpretative charac- KING HENBY THE SIXTH.-^PABT II. 245 ter. As touching the text, I hold it to be so certain that the pronoun ' thy ' has been omitted by the merest accident in the last line but one — do not the ' thy,' 'thy,' 'thou,' 'thy,' of the previous lines sound in the reader's ear, and cry for the repetition ? — that I marvel that it has not occurred to the commentators and been installed in its rightful position in the text; specially as in the 'Tempest,' Act I. 2. 58, they have not hesitated to introduce ' thou,' on the authority of Steevens, in order to complete the sense and perfect the metre. I assume, then, that the lines should be printed As for thy words, whose greatness answers words, Let this my sword report what speech forbears, and I proceed in the next place to show in vs'hat way the couplet should be interpreted. Surely he is a bad interpreter who would refer ' whose ' to ' words ;' it should be referred to ' combatants.' The following paraphrase will illustrate both the construction and the meaning. ' As for thy words, which of the two's greatness, mine or thine, corresponds to, or matches, words, let this my sword report; for with my tongue I would fain not utter it.' Blows, not boasts, suit Alexander Iden best. Of the use of ' whose ' in this way we have not a bad example in another part of this very play, And poise the cause in justice' equal scales. Whose beam stands sure, whose ri|htful cause prevails. •246 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. For the sentiment we may go to ' Macbeth,' Act V. 8. 7, I have no words : My voice is in my sword ; and ' Cymbeline,' Act IV. 2. 78, Have not I An arm as big as thine ? a heart as big ? Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not My dagger in my mouth. KING HENRY THE SIXTH. — PART III. 247 KING HENRY THE SIXTH. Part III. 153. I have considerable misgivings, whether I ought Act i. 4. 152- to write a single word on the one only portion of the Third Part of ' King Henry the Sixth,' which seems to provoke the pen of the speculative critic — I allude to Act I. 4. 152-53, That face of his the hungry cannibals Would not have touch'd, would not have ^tain'd with blood, for such is the reading of the passage in an edition, which, though for convenience and uniformity's sake it is called by the Cambridge editors a Quarto, is, they tell us, in point of fact an Octavo. There is no fault to be found with the lines either in respect of metre, rhythm, or sense : cannibals would not have hurt, much less slain, the fair-faced boy. But there are suspicious circumstances connected with them, which ought to be fairly met and debated. In the 248 HAED KNOTS IN SHAEESPEAEB. first place, they are arranged in the first Folio in three lines instead of in two : That face of his The hungry cannibals would not have touch'd, Would not have stain'd with blood ; a discrepancy this, which would not be worth noting,, were it not that in the second, third, and fourth Folios, which are usually no more than reproductions of the first, or of each other, with just occasional variations, there is a variation which is not slight or immaterial but considerable and important ; there is, in fact, a distinct addition to the text. Would not have stain'd the roses just with blood — not fresh words merely, but a fresh idea ; and that too, where there seemed neither room nor reason, so far as metre and meaning were concerned, for any innovation whatever — the fresh idea, too, has a poetic colour and is full of Shakespearian fragrance ; for I am struck with such passages as 'Measure for Measure,' Act I. 4. 16, Those cheek-roses ; ' I Henry VI,' Act II. 4. 49-62, Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses ; 'Kichard III,' Act IV. 3. 12, Their lips were four red roses on a stalk ; • Titus Andronicus,' Act II. 4. 24, Thy rosed lips ; KING HENRY THE SIXTH.— PART III. 249 ' Eomeo and Juliet,' Act IV. 1. 99, The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade ; not to mention many others. Be it observed, too, that the added words are not, Hke most interpolations, ill-chosen and ill-placed ; they are particularly appropriate as applied to young Eutland. Whence, then, came these words originally. ? Did the copyist turn poet for the nonce and set them down in the exuberance of a playful fancy ? I do not believe that this is the true account of them ; my belief is that they were Shakespeare's own and were originally interwoven with the text, but wer.e either discarded by him some time or other when he revised the play, and were re-inserted by a copyist in the later Folios, or (which I think much more ptobable) they were discarded by the copyist, or by the editors of the first Folio, because they could not decipher and under- stand them, though they managed to keep their place in the later impressions. Now, if this theory is correct, the words ought not to be relegated any longer to a footnote, but should be reinstated in their rightful position in the text. But what, it will be asked, is ' roses just with blood ?' I had long ago conjectured, what long long before me Theobald had conjectured, that ' just ' was merely another way of spelling ' juiced. ' ' Juiced ' with blood is a participial enlargement of 'roses, 'and is both forcible and fitting. Understand 'blood' in its natural sense, and it marks 250 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAKB. the distinction between the vegetable and the human flower ; make * blood ' refer to the life-juice of the flower (just as in ' Kichard II,' 4ct III. 4, 59, it is applied in common with the sap to the life-juice of trees), and it is a fine dash of colour pourtraying to the life the fresh and beautiful complexion of the rosy-faced boy. Where cannibals are mentioned, the mention of blood is specially significant. Blood might have tempted them, but beauty deterred them. A cannibal would have spared, a Clifford did not. The lines, then, with the added words in them, will stand thus _ That face of his The hungry cannibals would not have toueh'd, Would not have stain'd the roses juiced with blood. It is just possible, however, that the words ' would not have stain'd,' coming immediately after ' would not have toueh'd,' are merely a commentator's gloss and have been interpolated, and that the lines originally stood thus. That face of his the hungry cannibals Would not have toueh'd, the roses juiced with blood, where there would be two objects, the one introduc- tory and general, the other descriptive and particular, or the latter simply standing in apposition to the former. Thus much for young Kutland ; in the language of Chaucer, He was so fair and bright of lue, He seemed like a rose new Of colour, and in flesh so tender. KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 251 KING RICHARD THE THIRD. The tragedy of King Richard The Third' has come down to us singularly free from mutilation and corruption. It is true that the Cambridge editors tell us in their preface, "that the respective origin " and authority of the Quarto and the Folio is " perhaps the most difficult question which presents " itself to the editor of Shakespeare ; that the Quarto "contains passages which are not in the Folio, and "vice versa; and that passages, which in the Quarto " are complete and consecutive, are amplified in the "Folio, evidently by Shakespeare;" yet one thing is incontestable — they have not found it necessary to brand with their usual obelus a mgle line or word throughout the play. Such being the case, I have asked myself whether there could possibly be any portion of it which needed comment from me ; for the reader would not thank me for starting minute or imaginary questions, such, for instance, as whether, in Act I. 2. 64-66, 'heaven' should beAoW. 2. 64- regarded as a nominative, or a vocative case; or 252 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act 1. 2. 101. whether, in the 101st line ®f the same Scene, we should read Didst thou not kill this king ? Olou. I grant it ye. Anne. Dost grant 7 me, hedgehog ? Then, God grant me too Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed. To no purpose should I plead in the former case, that, two ways being possible, one must be prefer- able; in the latter, that the addition of the pronoun, which might have been accidentally omitted, would not impair the force of the dialogue and might even improve the metre; the reader would turn with contempt from such paltry speculative minutiae, and would tell me that I was making mountains of mole-hills or even myself raising the mole-hill. Yet I am bold to say that the following passage in the Aot^ I. 3. 62- third Scene of the first Act, lines 62-69, deserves just a passing notice, not that there can be any question either as to the reading or as to the meaning, but simply because of the very peculiar relation in which a nominative case stands to its verb: Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. The king, of his own royal disposition, And not provoked by any suitor else ; Aiming, belike, at your intierior hatred, Which in your outward actions shows itself Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, Makes him to send ; that thereby he may gather The ground of your ill-will, and to remove it. 69. KING EICHARD THE THIRD. 253 Here the ostensible nominative of the verb ' makes ' is undoubtedly the noun ' king,' but the real nomin- ative is rather the disposition and aim of the king as expressed in a number of consecutive clauses — it was this which 'made him to send.' The confusion which we trace here might reasonably be attributed to the shock which the queen felt owing to Gloucester's furious upbraidings; but I will rather explain it as one of those irregularities which occasionally occur in sentences over-long drawn out, and which are suffered to pass, when, as in the present case, there can be no possibility of the meaning being misunderstood. *We have a passage somewhat resembling it in the Very next play, — ^King Henry the Eighth,' Act I. 1. 69-62— which, for the sake of comparison, I may very well by anticipation introduce here : For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon For high feats done to the crown ; neither aUicd To eminent assistants ; but, spider-hke, Out of his self-drawing *web, 0, gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way. Here the subject of the verb 'gives' is not the pronoun ' he ' which the ' Globe ' editors have un- warrantably forced into the text to the exclusion of the interjection ' 0,' nor is it any noun or pronoun *The first Folio has 'web. gives us note.' 254 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. understood, but a succession of participial and other clauses contained in the four knd a half lines preceding, which, taken together, form a sort of cumulative nominative. But, to revert to the passage from ' King Eichard III,' in the last line I have written ' and to remove it,' which I believe is the reading of the copies, rather than ' and so remove it,' which is a gloss of the editors. Whether you explain the construction as a change from a final adverbial clause to a final infinitive phrase, or (which I think more probable) as another instance, to be added to the many which I have mentioned in my notes on 'Measure for Measure,' of the sign (to) of the infinitive being inserted before the infinitive in consequence of the remoteness of the auxiliary (may) on which the infinitive depends— however you explain it, there is no necessity, there is no justification, for making any alteration. ' So ' may be our idiom ; but ' to ' was tolerated by Shakespeare's contemporaries. In this same Act and^ Scene there are a couple of passages, where curiously enough the stops, at least in my opinion, should be the very reverse of what they are in the ' Globe ' edition ; in the one case, we do not want a note of exclamation, yet we have one ; in the other, we want one, but we have it not. KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 255 For in the 113th line Gloucester doe^ not so much Acti. 3. 113. express surprise at queen Elizabeth'^ threatening him, as he resents the very idea of it, as if he were likely to be taken aback by anything that she could say, or the king could do : What threat you me with telhiag of the king? he asks indignantly and defiantly, rather than What ! threat you me with telHng of the king ? On the other hand, in the 188th line, where queen Act i. 3. 188. Margaret expresses astonishment that her political enemies should turn so soon from sniarling at each other to join, one and all, in setting upon her, the punctuation should be What ! were you snarhng all before I came ? and not What were you snarling all before I came ? There is a very peculiar expression in Act III. 3. Act in. 3. 23. 23, in a line spoken by Eatcliff, Make haste; the hour of death is expidte, which must be tantamount to what he had said a few lines before, ' the limit of your lives is out ;' yet no parallel can be found for it in Shakespeare, unless it be in ' Sonnet XXII :' Then look I death my days should expiate. In Act V. 3. 173 a difficulty has been made of the Act v. 3, 173. words ' I died for hope,' but it hardly deserves to be 256 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE, called a difficulty. There are several ways in which the sentence might be explained, as the preposition ' for ' has a wide grammatical scope. In ' I Henry Vi; Act I. 1. 85, ' I'll fight for France ' means ' I'll fight to win it,' and so ' I died for hope ' might mean ' I died while fighting to sustain it.' In ' Macbeth ' ' dead for breath,' and in ' As Yoli Like It ' ' I die for food,' mean in each instance for the ivant of it ; and so Buckingham might say he died, all hope of rescue having been lost. But there is yet another mode of construing the sentence, to which I am inclined to give the preference. The ambiguity of the expression arises from its conciseness. The principal sentence is left incomplete, because, in the subordinate clause which follows, are words which, when applied with the proper grammatical construc- tion to the principal sentence, capitally complete it. It might not be too prolix for a prose-writer to say ' I died for hope of lending thee aid, ere I could lend it thee,' but Shakespeare who rejoices in brevity writes simply I died lor hope ere I could lend thee aid. A prcegnans locutio : what we lose in clearness, is more than made up to us in strength and spirit. I have given examples of this Shakespearian pecu- liarity elsewhere ; so I need not tire any with the repetition here. KING EICHAKD THE THIRD. 257 At the very end of the play — Act V. 5. 27-28 — Act v. 5. there seems to be a Httle doubt among the critics as to what the stops, and consequently what the sense, should be. In the ' Globe ' edition -the passage is thus set down : England hatli long been mad, and sgarr'd herself ; Tlie brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son. The son, compell'd, been butcher to tiie sire : All this divided York and Lancaster, Divided in their dire division, 0, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth, The true suoceeders of each royal house, By God's fair ordinance conjoin together ! Mr. Grant White was of opinion that a full stop should be placed after ' Lancaster]' and the line ' Divided in their dire division ' should be taken with ' Eichmond and Elizabeth.' I am sure I am right, when I prefer to point thus : All this divided York and Lancaster Divided in their dire division. The first ' divided ' is a participle, the second is a finite verb ; the subject of the verb ' divided ' is ' York and Lancaster;' the object dependent upon it is ' all this.' ' York and Lancaster, who were divided, divided in their dire division all this;' or, ' in their division caused all this division.' And what is meant by ' all this ? ' Plainly what has been just before lamentably described — brother being divided against brother, father against son, son. against father. 258 HAED KNOTS IN SliAKESPEABE. KING HENRY T|IE EIGHTH. Act 1. 1. 80, I have already explained in my notes on ' King Richard The Third ' why I do not think it necessary to strike out the interjection ' ' from the 63rd line of the first Act and first Scene of ' King Henry The Eighth,' merely to makeToom for a nominative case to the verb ' gives ;' I shall now state why I do not think it right to brand the 80th line of the same Act and Scene, where Buckingham thus gives vent to his indignation and disgust at Wolsey's high- handed dealing on the occasion of the king's visit to the French court : He matkes up the file Of all the gentry : for the most part such To -whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon ; and his own letter, The honourable board of council out, Must fetch him in he papers. Buckingham charges Wolsey with having, at times when the Council were not sitting, or at any rate without consulting them and obtaining their concurrence, issued his mandates in writing, KING HENBY THE EIGHTH. 259 appointing to the ruinous honour of attending the king any whom he chose to prick down on his list, or, as Buckingham scornfully expresses it, to 'paper.' The language is too informal and simple, too homely and common, to please some scholars ; yet it is old- fashioned and Elizabethan, it is not unclerkly couched, it admirably expresses the unguarded impromptu outpourings, in familiar and confidential intercourse, of Buckingham's scornful heart. 'Paper,' a noun metamorphosed to a verb, is a special word for a special occasion ; it is neither a Shakespearian impossibility, nor a linguistic one, and may be included by us without scruple in a vocabulary of Shakespeare's verbs formed from nouns. Some words spoken by Brandon — -"the officer who Act 1. 1. came to arrest Buckingham — in the 204th and following lines I shall next notice. I am sorry To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present : 'tis his highness' pleasure You shall to the Tower. Such is the ordinary pointing ; b.ut should not a semicolon rather be placed after 'liberty,' and a comma after ' present,' and the infinitive phrase ' to look on the business present ' be connected not with the words that go before but with those that come after ? It was no part of Brandon's business to 260 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. waste time in discussing, or hearing others discuss, how Buckingham had fallen under "the king's dis- pleasure, but to execute his commands, and dispatch a disagreeable duty with as much delicacy as he could ; after expressing, theriefore, his regret that he should have to be an eye-witness of such a scene, he gently reminds them of the object of his coming, of the ' present business,' which it behoved both himself and them to keep an eye on and attend to. The business was that Buckipgham should go to the Tower. It was only after I had roughly sketched my views of these two passages, that I was informed that Singer had similarly explained the first, and Mr. Collier the last. The agreement — as Gibbon neatly expresses it — without mutual communication, may add some weight to our common sentiment. Aot^i. 1. 222- The closing lines of the Scene, which are inex- pressibly beautiful, are in Buckingham's more subdued manner, and finely contrast with the stout words previously spoken by him : My surveyor is false ; the o'er-great cardinal Hath show'd him gold ; my Hfe is spann'd already ; I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. 'Figure' is, of course, the subject of the verb ' puts.' ' By darkening ' should perhaps be taken 226, KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 261 not as two words, but as one compounded one ; the same prefix is used by Shakespeare in ' by-peeping ' and ' by-dependency.' Buckingham explains that he is no longer the man that he was : he is but a shadow of his former self ; his figure, which but a moment before had been so conspicuous, at the very instant of his speaking is enveloped in a cloud, which throws into utter darkness his clear sun ; he who but now was the brightest in the political firmament is now so totally eclipsed "that he is no longer even to be seen ; a cloud had folded up his bright outshining beams. Surely commentators have perplexed themselves here with a passage which is sufficiently clear. There is nothing now to interrupt our progress Act ii. 2. 92- 98 till we come to the 92nd and following lines of Act II. Scene 2 : All the clerks, I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms Have their free voices — Rome, the nurse of judgment, Invited by your noble self, hath sent One general tongue unto us, this good man, This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius ; Whom once more I present unto your highness. I have placed a hyphen after ' voices ' rather than a colon, in order to indicate that the sentence is unfinished : the participle that should complete it is to be found in the sentence that follows. In my notes 262 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. on ' King Henry the Fifth ' I have quoted several passages to show how fond Shakespeare is of this elhptic form of expression, which is sometimes used for conciseness' sake, but sometimes also for dramatic effect. Here it may serve both purposes. The Cardinal curtly and cursorily mentions the opinions of the learned clerks of Christendom, as knowing that the king would listen to that branch of the subject with comparatively languid interest, and that theij had neither authority nor power to bind or to loose ; with courtly expedition and tact he proceeds to that other branch of the subject, which the king might well be represented as straining to hear with impatient eagerness ; it was only the Pope of Eome, who, in the estimation at any jate of Wolsey and the world, could settle the knotty question, whether the king were only a bachelor after having lived upwards of twenty years in a state of supposed matrimony, or whether, if he contracted a second marriage, he should rather be called a bigamist ; accordingly, without any curtailment, with all circumstance and ceremony, and with much complacency of tone and manner, the Cardinal presents the Pope's plenipoten- tiary. Cardinal Campeius. Act n. 3. 46. In the next Scene — Act H. 3. 46 — an old lady is introduced rallying Anne Bullen for her mock modesty in being shocked at the very idea of being KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 263 matched in marriage with a king. The two ladies thus prettily spar with each other : Anne. How you do talk ! I swear again I would not be a queen For all the world. OM L. In faith, for little England You'ld venture an emballin'g ; I myself Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd No more to the crown but that. Now what, according to the Old .Lady, would Anne venture for even such a small portion of the world as little England ? and what does she say that she herself would venture even for such a small strip as Carnarvonshire ? ' An emballing ' says the text, but what is an 'emballing?' Some have supposed — for I make no account of numerous conjectures that have been started — that, instead of repeating the phrase ' to be a qu^en,' she uses a word, which, from the custom of carrying the ball in procession at corona- tions, alluded to in ' King Henry *V,' Act IV. 1. 277, is in reality equivalent to it, and that, under cover of this word, she hints at a matrimonial or at any rate a eoncubinal consequence, which every woman would instinctively understand. I do not quite agree with this view of the passage. I feel sure that the Old Lady used the word with a eoncubinal reference only — that she reiterates, in fact, what she had already said in the 25th line, which line in my opinion clenches the matter. There is not a little harmless 264 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. satire in her use of the word ' venture ;' whether in ' embaUing ' a pun — an execrable one — were intended on Anne Bullen's own name, I need not discuss ; but the Old Lady was quite capaye of it. Act HI. 2. In Act III. 2. 62-71 should the answer to Norfolk's question be ' He is return'd,' or ' He is return'd in his opinions ?' The latter phrase is certainly most peculiar — most unusual ; there is nothing like it, that I can recollect, in the whole range of Shakespeare. It is true that the Folios so punctuate, but the punctuation of the Folios, we are assured by those who have had good opportunities of judging, is as likely to lead us wrong as right ; we need not, therefore, be solicitous to inquire, how the Folios point, but rather which of the two modes of pointing is most consistent with Shakespeare's general style — which suits the passage best. In my opinion ' he is return'd ' is simple, natural, Shakespearian. The words that follow describe the political consequences or at any. rate the future policy. Suffolk says that in virtue of, in accordance with, on the strength of, Cranmer's opinions, which have satisfied the king, and not the king only, but all the learned men of Christendom, the queen is shortly to be divorced, and a new queen installed in her stead. According to this interpretation the punctuation of the passage will have to be revised, and this is my revision of it. KING HENEY THE EIGHTH. 265 Nor. But, my lord, When returns Cranmer ? Suf. He is return'd ; in his opinions, which Have satisfied the king for his divorce Together with all famous colleges Almost in Christendom, shortly, I believe, Hia second marriage shall be publish'd, and Her coronation ; Katherine no more Shall be called queen, but princess dowager And widow to Prince Arthur. I have already had occasion to observe how fond Act m. 2. Shakespeare is of condensing his matter, but I know of no more remarkable instance, at least so far as the syntax is concerned, than we have in Act III. 2. 190-92 of this play : I do profess That for your highness' good I ever labour'd More than mine own ; that am, have, and will be. No wonder that the grammarians stare *with astonish- ment ; no wonder that the text-doctors shake their heads and refuse to see anything here but a shattered text. Yet have we here not so much dead stuff cumbering the line, but a skeletonized sentence, or rather a succession of skeletonized sentences, wherein we can yet recognise living specimens of the poet's creation. If we consider who is the speaker and what were the circumstances under which he spake, we shall be able to account for the obscurity, and grope out a tolerable meaning. The speaker was Wolsey. Who more able than he to express in clear and vigorous language the 266 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. conceptions of his soul ? yet, like Tiberius, like Talleyrand, he could, when it served his purpose, hide by his words the secret counsels of his heart. It was a critical moment this for the Cardinal. Already he had asked himself 'What should this mean ?' His perplexity was not diminished, as the king continued to probe him with strange questionings. He had need of all his dissimulation ; but the language of deceit is seldom pure and unadulterated. Consequently, with a deal of excellent matter, excellently expressed, we find in the Cardinal's speech some ambiguities, some twistings and turnings, much that is exaggerated, much that is extravagant. Those words, * that am, have, and will be,' if they mean anything, must refer to what he had just been saying — ' That I am, that I have been, that I will be, in the present, as in the past, and no less in the future, a labourer for the king's advantage.' Even supposing that Wolsey purposely cast his words in the form of a motto, and would fain make believe that such was the motto of his choice, as best describing his devoted attachment to the king, could anything be more laboured, more confused, more perplexing, more obscure ? Bead his words which next follow : Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their soul ; though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and Appear in forms more horrid — yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild viyex break, And stand unshaken yours, KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 267 What earnestness of protestation ! what rhetorical flourishes ! what verbal embellishment ! It is not the efflorescence of nature ; it is the embroidery of art. A slight change of punctuation — these slight Act iii. 2.383. changes may not be unworthy of notice — I venture to throw out for consideration rather than for certain adoption in the 383rd line : The king has cured me ; I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders, These ruui'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy. Here I put a full stop, and continue, Too much honour — 0, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven I The usual method is to put a colon after ' honour,' which is thus made to stand in apposition to ' load.' Point as we will in Act V. 3. 1-2, the meaning is Act v. 3. 1.2. the same ; yet I prefer as more after Shakespeare's manner Speak to the business, master secretary. Why are we met in council. There is a phrase in Act Y. 8. 10-12, which has Act v. 3. 10-12i been needlessly cavilled at, But we all are men, In our own natures frail, and capable Of our flesh. ' Flesh ' is here used, as it is in Pauline theology, for sinful indulgence. So understood, it should 268 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. present no more difficulty to the interpreter than such phrases as ' capable of all ill ' (Tempest), ' capable of evil ' (Hamlet), ' capable of fears' (Eichard III). It is the old doctrine of human fallibility put in Shakespeare's plain simple original effective fashion. Actv. 3. 108. A little further on, is it an editorial, or is it not rather a typographical error, that at the end of the 108th line we find a note of inferrogation rather than one of exclamation ? ' Do you think, my lords,' says Norfolk, The king will suffer but tile little finger Of this man to be vex'd ? to which the Chancellor's reply should unquestiona- bly be pointed thus, 'Tis now too- certain : How much more is his life in value with him ! Act V. 3. 130. To the printer, too, rather than to the editors, I would fain attribute the pointing that we have in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare a little lower down in the 130th line, Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee. It is true that the Folios omit the comma after ' proudest,' and that Shakespeare elsewhere uses the phrase ' the proudest he ' — one example we have in * 3 Henry VI,' Act I. 1. 48 — but even supposing that it makes no difference, as perhaps KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. 269 it does not, that, in the instance cited, the superlative and the prononn are not cut off from each other by separate hnes, I venture to think 'that there is more force in the king's words, if a comma is placed after ' proudest.' ' Now ' — says he — ' let me see the proudest, aye, the most daring ' — --superlative follow- ing superlative ; for ' he that dares most ' is virtually a superlative. How frequently Shakespeare explains, or amplifies, by the periphrasis of a personal pronoun and a relative clause, must have been observed by every attentive reader of his plays. That any objection will be raised on the score of the grammar, I do not anticipate. 270 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. TROILUS AND CEESSIDA. Prologue, 31. From tlie way in which some Shakespearian expos- itors have tried to chop and change the last hne of the Prologue in ' Troilus And Cressida,' it is evident that they have failed to apprehend its trae construction and meaning. By placing a comma after 'Now,' misunderstanding would seem impossible. Now, good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war, i.e., as for our now performance, as for our luck in our present venture, be it good or be it bad, be you pleased or be you displeased, we have entered the battle, and we must abide by the consequences. Acti. 3. 64. Passing from the Prologue to the body of the play, I am not disposed to acquiesce in the alteration which has been made in the text in Act I. 3. 54 ; as I am going to recommend a word which in my opinion has better claims to be considered the genuine one, I will transcribe as many of the lines TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 271 which precede as will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of the context. But when the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing of courage As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize, And with an accent tuned in self-sarde key Retorts to chiding fortune. ' Eetorts ' has been accepted on the authority of Mr. Dyce. ' Eetyres ' is the reading of the 1st and 2nd FoHos, ' Retires ' of the 3rd a-nd 4th Folios and of the Quarto. Some emendation is certainly required. Mr. Dyce's will io ; but so will 'replies,' 'recries,' 'rechides,' 'revies,' but not, I think, 'returns,' all of which have been bonjectured. The question is, of many possible words, which in all probability is right ? Whatever the verb should be, it is not necessary that it should be of hostile import. The note of defiance is sounded with sufficient distinctness in the prepositional phrase, ' loith an accent tuned in self -same hey,' and does not actually need to be sounded again in the verb. I have observed that, when Shakespeare refers to reverbera- tion of sound, he as often as not introduces a simple verb to express it. ' Babbling echo replies shrilly to the well-tuned horn ; ' ' The heavens repeat earthly thunder ; ' ' The choir of echoes ansioers so ; ' 'A story is reworded ; ' in one place ' replication ' is the 272 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. noun used. It is not impossible, then, that in ' Troilus and Cressida ' a simpler verb than ' Eetorts ' may have been employed, and ' replies ' I believe to have been the verb. But how could ' replies ' have so lost its character as to have been mistaken for 'retyres?' Nothing more easy. Imagine pi to have got turned topsy - turvy — a misadventure which is of common occurrence in printers' work — and ' replies ' and ' retyres ' are within an iota of being the same. Whether, then, we consider the environment of the passage, the usage of Shakespeare, or the possibility of a typographical error, ' replies ' is as good a word as any, and, if it were Shakespeare's, is, of course, better than any. As a corollary to this passage, I may remark that the great natural truth contained in the lines, the thing of courage Aa roused with rage with rage dotli sympathize, is particularly exemplified in a line in ' King Richard II,' Act 11. 1. 70, For young hot colts being raged do rage the more, where, notwithstanding all that has been said to the contrary, the participial epithet ' raged ' has been properly and purposely made .choice of, being assimilated to the verb which follows, just as rage is succeeded by rage in ' Troilus and Cressida.' The iteration and juxtaposition accentuate the lesson. TEOILUS AND CRESSIDA. 273 To brand or banish * raged,' therefore, is to punish a faultless word, and to sin against the text. I wish, however, that in Aet II. 3. 141-147 the Act ii. s, i4i- 147 Cambridge editors, who tell us that they 'have followed the punctuation of editors,' though they had ' some doubt whether Hanmer's view was not preferable,' had followed rather their own judgment, and printed the passage thus : Go tell him this, and add, That, if he overhold his price so much, We'll none of him ; but let him, like an engine Not portable, lie under this report : ' Bring action hither, this cannot go to war : ' A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so. Any other arrangement of the inverted commas is incorrect. I will not pester the reader with a long rigmarol Act iii. 2. to prove that, when Pandarus in Act III. 2. 210 summarizes the substance of his own» of Cressida's, of Troilus' imprecations, he could not possibly, without falsifying Troilus' formula, have said other- wise than ' Let all constant men be Troiluses,' albeit some critics, narrowing their view to a portion of the passage rather than taking a comprehensive glance at its general scope, have persuaded them- selves, and would fain persuade others, that 274 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. Shakespeare must have written, what he certainly did not write, ' Let all inconstant men be Troiluses.' Act III. 3, 4. And why should any question the genuineness of the reading, 'things to love,' in Act III. 3. 4 ? Is it because the 4th Folio has, as a variant, ' things to come ? ' But the authority of a single Folio, copied from and of later date than the rest, must not be permitted to outweigh the authority of the Quarto, and of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Folios, all of which are substantially agreed. Already in the play the phrases 'things to come,' and 'worlds to come,' have occurred, without having caused the least embarassment to the copyist. What likelihood that he should have set down here, instead of the obvious word ' come,' the more far-fetched one ' lovei? ' I believe that, as a seer was the spokesman, thoughts such as filled the souls of the great seer's apostles were here remembered by Shakespeare and coloured his diction. Calchas had asked himself, where he should ' set his affections,' where his ' heart ' should be, which of the two great contending nationalities he should choose. He answers that he had sacrificed Troy, country, kindred, everything, and cast in his lot as a stranger with a strange people. The passage may very well stand thus : Appear it to jour mind That, through the sight I beajr in things to love, I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession, TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 275 Inciu-r'd a traitor's name ; exposed myself From certain and possess'd conveniences To doubtful fortunes ; sequestering from me all That time, acquaintance, custom and condition Made tame and most familiar to -my nature, And here, to do you service, am hecome As nev? into the vsrorld, strange, unacquainted. When, however, a few hnes lower down, Calchas, begging that Antenor might be given in exchange for his daughter, says let him be sent, great princes, And he shall buy my daughter ; and her presence Shall quite strike off all service I have done, In most accepted pain, we are not surprised that the commentators fret and chafe, and wish to sweep away ' pain,' and put ' payment,' or ' pay,' or ' poise ' in jts place. If the text is correct, which I much doubt, I can only sujipose that ' in most accepted pain ' should be connected not with the verb of the -principal sentence, but with the dependent clause, Calchas saying that the restoration of his daughter would fully compensate for all the services which he had done with much pain to himself, which pain, however, were his daughter restored to him, would be to him as nothing, nay, would be accounted by him as most acceptable. If, however, the words may not be so construed — and I confess that I do not like wrenching them so — ^I can see no escape from the alternative 276 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. that we have here a small but most insidious error. The copyist's eye deceived him ; he mistook a g for a p, and wrote ' pain ' instead of ' gain.' I make the correction, therefore, and more than balance the losses enumerated by Calchas in the commencement of his speech by the ' gain ' which preponderates at the close of it. Act IV. 4.99. Think now of some criticp tampering with the epithet ' changeful ' in the following passage — Act IV. 4. 99— where Troilus says No. But something may be done that we will not : And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency. To offer any explanation of Shakespeare's phrase would be to insult the understanding of the reader. Act IV, s. 59. And why such an aversion for a ' coasting welcome ' in Ulysses' speech in Act IV. 5. 59 ? 0, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give a coasting welcome ere it comes. And wide unclasp the tables of their hearts To every ticklish reader I set them down For sluttish spoils of opportunity And daughters of the game. It is not because it is unauthorized ; it has all the copies to back it : nor because it is too beggarly ; it is as fine an epithet as the most fastidious could TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 277 desire : nor because something more brilliant and striking has been forthcoming to take its place : no ; the truth of the matter is that .it is unfamiliar to modern ears, being now well nigh obsolete. But what saith Chaucer in his ' Troilus and Cressida ? ' I kiiow that in forme of speech -is change Within a thousand years, and wordes the That hadden prise, now wonder nice and strange Thinketh hem, and yet they spake hem so. Wonder nice and strange to some may be the participle 'coasting,' but Shakespeare must have had rather a penchant for it than otherwise, as, notwith- standing its comparative uncoijimonness, he has used it no less than three times. Let us observe where, and under what circumstances, he has used it. In ' King Henry VIII,' Act III. 2. 39, it is said of Wolsey, The king in this perceives him how he coasts And hedges his own way ; Wolsey, bent on promoting his own advancement, is represented as not content to wait, until mistress Fortune comes to him and grasps him by the hand, but, unsolicited, at his own instigation, with all caution it may be, yet still in a forward pushing aggressive spirit, goes forth to meet her and press her into his service : this, then, is one passage in which the verb * coasts ' is chosen for use ; the other 278 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. is still more significant, because in respect of the subject it is a nearer parallel. And all in haste she coasteth to the cry is said of Venus going forth to find Adonis; he comes not to her, cries not to her, cares not for her, yet still she moves forward, with circumspection, if you like, but still forward, to woo him. Now such as was Wolsey's spirit in quest of power, such as was Venus' in quest of love, such was the spirit of the ladies described by Ulysses in the fashion of their encounters. 'Accosting,' ye emendators, might serve well enough for an ordinary welcome (for we must not be deluded into believing that it has the comprehensive signification that Sir Toby was told appertained to it), but for the Venuses and Cressidas, for the sly saucy misses whom Ulysses pourtrays, we want a more spicy and flavoursome epithet, and such we have in 'coasting,' which must not be bartered away for the tasteless substitutes of modern expurgators. Act V, 3. 19- With much less confidence I approach the con- sideration of another word, a little further on in the Scene — Act IV. 5. 103 — wl^ere Ulysses draws the following masterly sketch of Troilus' character. The youngest son of Priam , a true knight, Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word, Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue ; Not soon provoked, nor being provoked soon calm'd ; 22. TROILUS AND CRESSipA. 279 His heart and hand both open and both free ; For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows, Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impaire thought with breath. The word 'impaire,' which rests on the authority of the 1st and 2nd Fohos, and which is spelt ' impair' in the 3rd and 4th, and ' impare ' in the Quarto — what is it? The Cambridge editors in the 'Cambridge Shakespeare' have the following note: 'Although we have not been able to find any other instance of 'impair' as an adjective, we have retained it, for editors should be careful not to obliterate a-rra^ Xijoixeva, and etymologically ' impair ' may have the sense of 'unsuitable,' 'unequal to the theme.' Johnson's conjecture of ' impure,' though plausible, is not entirely satisfactory, as it is Troilus' ripeness of judgment, and not his modesty which is the subject of praise.' Yet in the 'Grlobe' Shakespeare they have introduced ' impure ' into the text. Whatever the epithet should be, one thing is cer- tain, it has nothing to do with Troilus' judgment in giving, but refers merely to the thoughts which he is said to dignify with breath. It is somewhat in favour of ' impar ' that there is no alternative reading in any of the copies, as is not unfrequently the case, where some out-of-the-way word occurs. There can be no question that 'impar' is susceptible of a large and comprehensive meaning which fits it for 280 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. the place. Perhaps, as the subject of the play is classic, the characters heroic, the scene and age distant, and the language more than ordinarily intersprinkled with exotic terms, a well authenticated Latinism here should not be hastily discarded. It might be compared with what Polonius in Hamlet calls an ' unproportioned thought.' If 'impure' is to take its place, ' impure ' must be allowed as much latitude of meaning as its opposite 'pure' has in the Sermon on the Mount. But there is another word which I will venture to put forward. Elsewhere Shakespeare uses ' unfair ' as la verb. May he not have used it here as an adjective — not in its ordinary commercial sense, but in a philosophical, or, I may almost say, an aesthetic one ? Nothing was breathed by Troilus which fell short .of that high standard which was defined by the Greeks as to KaXov ; nothing but what was good and honourable, comely and beautiful. Such an epithet would have a far- reaching meaning, and would add dignity and beauty to an already beautiful passage. It would sort, too, with what Chaucer says of Troilus, And most of love and virtue was his speech. But I confess that the true word here, to quote Chaucer again, 'full hard is for to find.' Act IV. 5. 103. As hard it is to be sure of the true reading in Andromache's impassioned appeal to Hector in Act V. 3. 19-22. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 281 be persuaded ! do not count it holy To hurt by being just: it is as lawful : For we would count give much, to as violent thefts, And rob, in the behalf of charity. I have transcribed the passage, word for word, point for point, as it appears in the FoHo. And it would certainly seem as if the critics were right in pro- nouncing it utterly defunct in its present state. Two plans have been proposed foi its resuscitation; one by Mr. Knight, who would breath life into it thus, it is not lawful, For we would give much, to count violent thefts ; which he interprets thus : ' It is as lawful, because we desire to give much, to count violent thefts as holy.' And this mode of treatment had occurred to myself, before I was aware that it had the support of Mr. Knight. The second plan is that which has been devised by Tyrwhitt, it is not lawful, For we would give much, to use violent thefts. Either of these plans is admissible, so far as sense and scansion go; but it does not necessarily follow that either faithfully reproduces the original text. Of neither of them is the rhythm very euphonious. Nay, I am not sure that the much abused line of the Folio will not bear comparison with them, and be 282 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. pronounced by impartial judges metrically their equal, rhythmically their superior. it is not lawful, For we | would count | give much | to use vio | lent thefts. With this vantage-ground, as I consider, of rhythmical superiority to start from, I set out on my task — a Quixotic one, some may fancy — of showing that the only injury which the Folio's lines have really sustained is that in one place a wrong stop has been inserted, and in another ' use ' has been docked of a letter, and corrupted to ' as.' Now every one will allow that such a simple sentence as ' We would give much ' would be understood at once by any one who was acquainted with the English language ; and, if I were to vary the expression, and say, ' We count on giving much,' I should still be speaking idiomatically and intelligibly. But is it not the case that ' We would count to give much,' though a little more archaistic than ' We would count on giving much,' would be passable, and for Shakespeare possible ? The rich thief would rather count on giving,' or ' count to give,' than actually give. Now then, sir, if I choose to assume that between ' count ' and ' give ' a ' to ' has accidentally slipped out (the t which terminates the word which precedes TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 283 it, and the o of the g which commences the word which succeeds it, having facihtated the omission), I am not assuming anything monstrously improbable, and in respect of the metre, I should be only introducing an anapaest, where Mr. Knight and Tyrwhitt have a spondee : it is not lawful, For we | would count I to give much | to use vio | lent thefts. a line, which, so far as its metre is concerned, will defy the attacks of ten thousand critics. And, for my own part, I might not be unwilling to acquiesce in this as a respectable solution of no common difl&culty. But I am well aware that there are some lynx-eyed critics who will not suffer the reading of the copies to be altered one syllable or letter more than is absolutely necessary. And I am not prepared to contend that even the very limited alteration which I have just suggested is absolutely necessary. No one, who will care to read this dry matter, but knows very well, that the preposition 'to' before the infinitive is, or at least was, omitted or inserted at pleasure after certain auxiliary and semi- auxiliary verbs. It will be sufficient to produce the following examples : (1.) I caused jou write, (2.) Constrain them weep, (3.) I'll force thee yield, (4.) Entreat her hear, (5.) You ought not walk, (6.) And never suffer matter of the world Enter his thoughts ; 284 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. every one of these instances is culled from Shake- speare, and many other more familiar ones might be added. Is it incredible, then, that after such a verb as ' count ' ' to ' may have been Omitted before the infinitive verb 'give ?' If it is not, to edit the passage so as to make the least possible deviation from what is set down for our guidance in the Folio, I have merely to change the colon after ' lawful ' into a comma, and reform * as,' until, rightly and fully lettered, it is converted into 'use ;' and by this means I have it is not lawful, For we would count give much, to -use violent thefts. And why not ? CORIOLANUS. 285 COEIOLANUS. The tragedy of ' Coriolanus ' was first printed in Folio. The text, we are told, ' abounds with errors, due probably to the carelessness of illegibility of the transcript from which it was printed.' This may be so, but these are not the only errors in it which need rectification. In most of the editions of the play, which are to be found nowadays in bookseller's shop or private library, there are erroneous emendations smuggled into the text without license and without crying necessity ; there are inaccuracies of punctua- tion which obscure the sense and hookwink the reader, attributable not to inadvertence on the part of the transcriber or printer, but to misjudgment on the part of the editor ; there are also (to put it mildly) some very questionable interpretations which should not be allowed to stand unchallenged, and which may have to be superseded by others more pertinent and truthful ; besides all these, there are a number of passages, which admit of being explained in more ways than one, and which perhaps had 286 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. better be left without note or comment of any kind to the unbiassed judgment of each individual Act 1. 1. 195- interpreter ; thus in Act I. 1. 195-198, where Coriolanus says of the multitude, They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know What's done i' the Capitol ; who's like to rise, Who thrives and who declines ; side factions and give out Conjectural marriages, why say that ' side factions ' means ' talte part in factions,' unless that be the only tolerable, or decidedly the best, meaning that the words can bear ? As a matter of fact, it is neither the only possible, nor, in my opinion, the most probable one. These fire-side gossips affected to know the state of the political, just as they affected to know the state of the pocial world ; they patched up imaginary parties, making this man belong to this side, -and that man to that, just as they gave out conjectural marriages ; faction- makers and match-makers w^ere they, albeit their factions and their matches had no existence save in their idle imaginations and brainless babble. Minutiae of this sort, though not altogether devoid of interest, are yet not of paramount importance ; but it is important that there should be no mistake in such Act I. 1. 262. a passage as the 262nd line of this same Act and Scene, where the punctuation of the Folio, though not always to be depended upon, may be accepted with confidence ; it certainly is not an advantageous COEIOLANUS. 287 exchange to put a note of exclamation, as some do, after The present wars devour him : the tribunes are telling each oth^r what they think of Coriolanus ; how proud he was ; how he had scorned and taunted them when they were appointed tribunes ; they aggravate his offence by the remark, while perhaps they comfort themselves by the reflection, that even the gods themselves — those most high sacrosanct irresponsible arbiters — even the moon, the very ideal of modesty, he would not scruple to ' gird ' — to mock at ; what wonder, then, if tJuir tribunitian majesty, their tribunitian modesty, he despised, he insulted ! And now what further ? Do they, as some would have it, invoke a curse on Coriolanus, and wish him perdition by the wars ? No such thing. 'This man,' they continue, 'who has no regard for God or tribune, what does he care for ? ' ' The wars ' — for the poet here, with a licence which is common to him and which is perfectly well known to all those who have read his plays with attention, uses the plural form as an exact equivalent of the singular, an example of which we have in 'Cymbeline,' Act IV. 3. 43, where ' These present .ivars ' is said of a war then instant — ' the wars,' then, or, as we may express it, 'the loar,' such as at that very moment was brewing with the Volsci — ' this is his devouring passion j he is carried away, he is swallowed up, he 288 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. is wholly absorbed by the ivar ; and this is how he has grown — grown far ' too proud ;' and the reason he is so proud is because he is so Yaliant.' Such I conceive to be a fair gloss on a much misconceived passage, though I am not quite sure that I have correctly Act 1. 3. 46. expounded just the fag end of it. Trusting to the critics to make right my wrong, I proceed to the next passage, my remarks on which, I wish it to be distinctly understood, are of a tentative rather than of a dogmatic character ; nevertheless I fear I shall be scolded and smit by my tribunitian judges for presuming to stir up the dying embers of a past contention in Act I. 3. 46— not that some emendation there is not absolutely necessary, but it will be argued that all that can be done has been done already, and that, where the first Folio reads The breasts of Hecuba, When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier Then Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian sword. Gontenning, tell Valefria, and where the second Folio reads At Grecian swordes contending : tell Valeria, two ways and two only are open to us — either that taken by Capell, who merely added to the line of the second Folio an apostrophe after ' swordes ' to indicate that it was a plural genitive, or that taken by Mr. Collier, who altered the line of the first Folio to At Grecian swords, opntemniag : tell Valeria. COEIOLANUS. 289 There will be no lack of critics to correct me, if I err, but I cannot help thinking that the participle ' contemning ' — Mr. Collier's participle — coming immediately after such a strong expression as ' spit forth blood,' even if it be not slightly tautological, does not add much to the spirit and force of the passage ; while, as for the emendation of the second Folio, that must, of course, claim our attention, but it cannot command our acceptance. And why ? Because the second Folio was merely copied from the first, and not from an independent transcript ; where, therefore, it differs from the first, the difference is due to transcriber ^ printer, prompter, press-corrector, no one knows whom, and it may be estimated accordingly. We are certainly not bound to follow it, specially if we can account in some other reasonable way for what appears in the first Folio. Now let it be observed that ' Contenning ' is cut off from the words which precede it by a full stop ; secondly, that it is headed with a capital letter ; and thirdly, that it is printed in italics ; these three points can be gainsaid by none. Well now — this exceptionally printed, this obviously and avowedly misspelt word — what if it is no more than one of those numerous stage - directions, like ' coming forward,' ' digging,' ' aside,' ' reciting to himself,' • looking at the jewel,' ' to the gold ' — all these taken at random from ' Timon ' — whidh ever and anon 290 HAKD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. interrupt the text, signifying that Volumnia had ceased speaking to Virgilia, and, in ' continuing ' her remarks — so the word should have been spelt — was addressing the gentlewoman in attendance. Thus the line shrinks from an Alexandrine to one of the ordinary measure, the full paijse in the middle of it accounting for — some might think, necessitating — according to a well-known rule of Shakespearian prosody, the omission of a syllable ; and so the metre, in spite of the ejection of a trisyllable, is as complete as the most sensitive rhythmist could desire. I shall only add that stage-directions were usually printed in italics. Act 1. 4. 31, Our difficulty in the next passage — Act I. 4, 31 — consists not so much in suggesting as in selecting an emendation. The line, as given in the first Folio, is All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome ! You Heard of Byles and Plagues Plaister you o'er ; this the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare, by changing the punctuation and the spelling, and supposing that Coriolanus was in such a towering passion that he could not speak coherently, manage to retain, printing it thus, You shames of Rome ! you herd of — Boils and plagues Plaster you o'er ; COMOLANUS. 291 but, when a man boiling over with rage is hurhng curses at a lot of runaways — a species of ammu- nition, by the way, of which Coriofanus had a goodly supply — he is not wont to falter with his tongue or to be brought up with a jerk, even though it be to discharge a second volley of yet more bitter words. I dismiss the method of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare editors, then, as a clever shift rather than a correct solution ; nor can I do more than commend Theobald's arrangement, for all that it is so neat and near, You shames of Rome, you ! Herds of boils and plagues Plaster you o'er. A word like ' sherds ' would seem more appropri- ate than 'herds.' If I could bring myself to believe that ' cowards ' was spelt in the original ' Keardef,' and that the K of this ' Keardef was misshapen, so as to be very much like an H, as might happen in a ' carelessly written and illegible transcript,' I could understand how such a corruption as ' Heard of ' might have crept in, where Shakespeare had written. You shames of Rome ! you cowards ! Boils and plagues Plaster you o'er ; but I should be ' cooking a stone,' were I to try to persuade any that the line, as I have now tinkered it, was as the author manufactured it ; some less 292 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. violent change will reasonably be insisted on. Well then, in Act IV. 2. 11 of this play, we find the phrase ' the hoarded plague o' the gods.' Here, then, is a word, viz. ' hoard,' which bears a strong resem- blance to ' Heard,' suits the context capitally, and derives a sort of sanction from the fact that it is used in connexion with plagues elsewhere in this very play. If we shift the stops, as Theobald dared to shift them, but for Theobald's 'herds' substitute ' Hoard,' we have You shames of Rome, you ! Hoaaii of boils and plagues Plaster you o'er. Such, then, is my ultimatum. If it be objected that ' hoard ' is well enough, but that the antecedent 'you!' sounds rather like a weak scream, unless a hijplicn be placed after it, I answer that an exact parallel of this repetition of the pronoun may be found in Shakespeare ; the fact I distinctly remember, the particular passage I cannot at this moment find for the satisfaction of the doubter. But the critics, who, in Act II. 1. 27, have not scrupled to transmute ' teach ' to ' touch,' will not censure me for proposing to make e give way to o in this passage also. Act 1. 6. 76. On the next passage — Act I. 6. 76 — I can only compare the notes of the commentators to clouds of dust which hide from our eyes the very point of which we are anxious to get a clear and distinct CORIOLANUS. 293 view. The circumstances may be thus briefly narrated. Coriolanus, finding that the battle which Cominius had fought with the Volsci had terminated indecisively, asks for, and obtains, permission to call for volunteers to renew instantly the engagement. In answer to his appeal, not a few only but the whole army rush forward with the most extravagant demonstrations of martial confidence and delight ; taken aback by this unexpected manifestation, he exclaims, me alone ! make yoti a sword of me ! These are the words — what are we to make of them ? I take them to be partly a sort of gentle protest against the hero-worship which they were paying him, partly a preface to the remarks which immediately after he addresses to them. Who were these men who were now so eager for the fray ? They were the very men who under Cominius had failed to beat the enemy; yet now that Coriolanus was to captain them, they made sure that they had a very engine of war, a talisman of victory — they vmde a sivord of him — they regarded him as their sword, hivi as their confidence — him and him alone. Coriolanus says not a word to damp this newly kindled ardour ; he credits them with it, and shifts the power from himself to them; or rather he shares it with them ; if they were the men inwardly which they showed outwardly, no need to set 294 HARD KNOTS IN SHAtESPEARE. their hopes on him, and him alone; they themselves were equally with him sivords — terrors to the foe; not one but could be a match "for four Volsci ; not one but could front the redoubtable Aufidius himself, and push his shield with shield as hard. ' A certain Act 1. 6. 80- number,' he continues, 85. Though thanks to all, must I select from all : the rest Shall bear the business in some other fight, As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march ; And four shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best inclined. Over the last line and a half there has been a deal of wrangling, a deal of conjecturing. ' Why four ? ' it has been asked. To which a learned annotator stoically answers, ' Why not four ? ' Yet, as if not quite satisfied himself with this method of meeting an adversary's objections, he refers to a passage in ' Hamlet ' (which does not strike me as relevant) to show that ' four ' was used of an indefinitely small number. I rather look for an explanation of the difficulty in the notion which Shakespeare entertained of the organization of the army. He speaks of the ' centuries ' — the ' centurions '• — of the Volsci ; there cannot be a doubt that he conceived the Eomafi army as similarly divided ; the number ' four ' indicates with sufficient exactness the modest number that Coriolanus was content should accompany him on his errand of danger — -four hundred men and tlieir four COKIOLANUS. 295 officers — Voil^ tout. Soldiers would understand, if scholars cannot. We are again on debatable ground in Act I. 9. Act i. 9. 41-46, where Coriolanus in his usual incisive style is remonstrating with the army for sounding a salute in his honour : May these same instruments, which you profane, Never sound more ! when drums and trumpets shall I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be Made all of false-faced soothing ! When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, Let him be made an "overture for the wars ! In the first two lines, where a wish is expressed that the drum and the trumpet may never sound more, it is of course implied, if they were to be prostituted to such unsoldier-like uses. A child may read here. But to whom, it has been asked, does ' Mm ' in the last line refer ? I a,nswer, to the person alluded to in the previous line — to steel grown soft — that is to say, (for the abstract is used for the concrete) to the man who ought to be a steeled warrior, but who is no better than a silken parasite. A prose-writer might have used the plural pronoun, the poet prefers the singular; under 'him' is probably comprehended the whole military body — ex uno disce omnes. To my mind, the difficulty *Ff. 296 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. does not consist in finding a word for * him ' to refer to, but in discovering a sense for 'overture' suitable alike to the word and to the passage. How, then, is it used elsewhere in Shakespeare? There is no lack of examples, I bring no overture of war. ' Twelfth Night; Act I. 5. 225 ; I hear there is an overture of peace. ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act IV. .S. 46 ; I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture. ' AU's Well That Ends Well,' Act V. 3. 99 j Without more overture. ' Winter's Tale,' Act II. 1. 172 ; It was he That made the overture of thy treason to us. ' King Lear,' Apt III. 7. 89. In all these passages (except the last, where it is somewhat differently applied and seems to be almost synonymous with ' disclosure ') the word means an offering of terms of some sort — whether amicable or hostile in character, depends upon the context. In a somewhat similar sense it is fair to suppose that ' overture ' is used in ' Coriolanus.' ■The question, then, resolves itself to this. Can the word bear its ordinary meaning in this extraordinary connection of it ? I think it can. Just as, when a dispute arises between two nations, it is customary COKIOLANUS. 297 to try what can be done by an overture with the view of coming to an understanding, the ambassador hold- ing in his hand both peace and war, so Coriolanus sarcastically recommends the Eomans for their wars to see what could be done through such a one as he describes; let them make an 'overture' of him; the ambiguous word well suited Coriolanus' purpose; the hearers might take it either way; as an overture of peace, or an overture of ivar; but none could doubt that, when such a body were put forward, a man of silk and not a man of steel, whose artillery was a cocoon rather than a cannon, the warlike sense was out of the question ; the warlike solution was impos- sible; the word would be not 'treat,' but 'yield;' not equal terms such as freedom commands, but unconditional surrender fit only for crouching slaves. There is no more reason why a man should not be said to be made an overture, than a man is said to be made a sword; only the former is applied to the coward, the latter (as we have just seen) to Corio- lanus. It is far too great a liberty to take with the text to change 'overture' to 'coverture; nor dare I assign to 'overture' a sense, which it may very well bear nowadays in musical literature, but which we have no proof that it ever bore in Shakespeare's time, nor is there a single example of its being used in that sense to be found in any one of his plays. 298 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act HI. 1. There is nothing now which calls for special 131 comment, until we reach Act III. I. 131, where we come across the very singular phrase ' this bosom multiplied,' which the critics convert™ by what process I know not — to ' this bissom multitude ! ' The latter, being the harsher expression, is perhaps thought to accord better with Coriolanus' temper. As a matter of fact, however, for this particular passage the other phrase bears off the palm. It is not the blindness of the multitude that is here glanced at, but the dangerous knowledge bosomed up by them and sure in time to be thoroughly digested, that they had wrung gratuities and concessions from a reluctant oligarchy. Multiply the bosom, and you augment the danger. 'Bissom multitude' is just the phrase that an unwary critic would catch at ; and how triumphantly might he point to 'bissom conspec- tuities ' in another part of the play ! But ' bosom multiplied' is the phrase for the place, original, unique, strikingly apposite, bearing the stamp of discerning judgment and originating- genius. It may be matched with the 'multitudinous tongue,' which occurs a little further down; only there speech, here thought, is the dominant idea. By all means read, therefore. How shall this bosom multiplied digest The senate's courtesy ? Act III. 1. A little question of punctuation, not altogether CORIOLANUS, 299 unimportant, in Act III. 1. 191, must next claim our attention. Menenius, who all along, in spite of his patrician sympathies, endeavours to maintain amicable relations with the commons, and to act as a sort of peacemaker between the two rival factions, and to be the candid friend of both, would surely not, when the populace were all a-fire, deliberately blow the flames and incense the tribunes by crying out insultingly ' You, tribunes to the people ! ' Rather does he do his utmost to check the conflagration and prevent the flames from spreading, appealing to each one of the opposing parties in turn; admonish- ing first the tribunes, then Coriolanais; exhorting them to speak to, restrain, pacify the people; exhorting him to have patience. Such being the case, the passage should be stopped thus : What is about to be? I am out of breach ; Confusion's near ; I cannot speak. You, tribunes. To the people. Coriolanus, patience ! Speak, good Sicinius. To have upbraided the popular magistrates at such a critical juncture would have been as impolitic, as it would have been alien to the part which Menenius assumed. But perhaps I shaU be told that the interpretation which I have given is the interpretation contemplated, stops notwithstanding. What again is there awry in the line Act III. Act iii. 2. 29. 2. 29, I have a heart as little apt as yours, 300 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. which has been banned by the Cambridge editors ? Can it be that they object to 'apt ?' In • Timon,' Act I. 1. 132, we read ' She is young and apt,' and in the same play, Act II. 2. 139-140, ' nnaptness ' and ' indisposition ' are used convertibly. If there is a flaw here, all I can say is that I cannot perceive it. Act in. 2. 52- I come now to a celebrated passage in Act III. 2. extending over several lines (•52-80), where Volumnia endeavours to induce Coriolanus to disguise his real sentiments in order to pacify and conciliate the infuriated multitude. We must not expect to find in the language which Shakespeare puts into the mouth of a Roman matron the lofty morality of a purist, but we need not go the length of a certain expositor, who would actually alter the text to make Volumnia say that she would allow herself any amount of dissimulation wliere her fortune and friends required it. Any amount of dissimulation was held lawful by Charles The Fifth and the leading cele- brities of the sixteenth century, but the mother of Coriolanus professes to be guided by the code of 'honour,' which sets some bounds to dissimulation even when fortune and friends are at stake. The chief difficulty of the passage is not one of ethics at all, but of syntax. How are we to construe the line — I punctuate it as the ' Globe ' Shakespeare editors do — Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart ? CORIOLANUS. 301 Volumnia had just before told Coriolanus to 'wave his head,' which she instructs him to do ' often,' and she shows him how to do it — ' thus '—and she adds the purpose—' correcting thy stout heart.' When expositors make such a. fluster ahout the government of the relative ' which,' are they oblivious of the little verb ' do,' and of its occasional 'ellipse, specially in conversation, specially in conversation supplemented by gesticulation ? I can only ^suppose that they shrink from this explanation because of the simphcity of it ; but the simplicity of an explanation, if common sense go along with it, should recommend it rather than otherwise. With more reason it has been asked, what is the relation in which ' humble ' stands to the rest of the sentence in the line, Now humble as the ripest mulberry ? Some connect it with ' head,' and some with ' heart,' and some think it a verb, and some an adjective, and some hold that it has no business here at all, but that it has usurped the place of some other more fitting word. But the word is right enough, and an adjective it is sure enough ; and it refers neither to ' head,' nor to ' heart,' but, equally with ' bussing,' equally ^vith ' waving,' to the subject of the main sentence, viz., to the pronoun ' thou' which is understood. In fact, 'now humble' is the last of a series of causes, each one indicating 126-127. 302 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. a fresh attitude which the speaker would have Coriolanus assume ; * noiu humble ' is the coup de grace, the final pose to which all the others are but preludes ; it marks the lowest level in th^ valley of humiliation j the limit beneath which humility itself could sink no further ; ' now humble,' aye, now at last the very picture of humility, humble enough to satisfy even the most exacting tribunes ; as soft, as sweet, as low-hanging, as ready to drop, as the ripest mulberry that will not bear the handling. Act III. 2. Having cleared the way here, I will next endeavour to remove a much more serious obstruction which occurs in another of Volumnia's speeches, the same Scene, the 126th and 127th lines : At thy choice, then ; To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour Than thou of them. Come all to ruin ; let Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear Thy dangerous Ktouiness, for I mock at death With as big heart as thou. The words that are printed in italics have been hidden from expositors, and, I must acknowledge, were equally so from myself, various shadows of interpretation having amused me from time to time, all alike illusory. If I have hit upon the right meaning now, it is due tp a hint which I have received from a friendly critic. In the first place, let it be observed that almost in the same breath, COEIOLANUS. 303 that Volumnia avows a feeling of pride of some sort, she disavoii's the -pride which stifened Coiiolamis (line 130), as not derived from her, nor appertaining to her, but of his oum begetting. And secondly it is evident that Coriolanus felt that his mother had chidden him, and had not come roiifid to his view of her own free will, but rather because she felt that she could not do otherwise. Her surrender to her son, then, was not a cheerful and spontaneous, but a half-hearted and compulsory one. Thus much generally ; and now to come to particulars : in what terms does Volumnia describe her own feelings ? Certainly not as of one who feared the consequences ; for (to use her own words) she mocked at death with as big heart as Coriolanus did. How then ? As one who felt pride, but not exactly the pride which Coriolanus felt ; but a rational pride akin to what we sometimes call self-respect — -a feeling that she had gone as far in entreating her son as a mother, or at least as Coriolanus' mother, should. He would be too proud to bo continually suing, and continually denied ; well then — that pride of his she too felt : she let it be as he willed ; she passively permitted it, albeit it was contrary to her wish, her counsel, her best and highest judgment. I can almost fancy that Shakespeare had in his mind here that famous chapter in Israelitish history, when Jehovah, finding his people were determined to have a visible and 304 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. temporal king like all the nations around them, at length ceased to contend with them — let them have their will — allowing it rather than approving of it, conceding what was in reality repugnant to his commands and his counsel. Long was the ruin a-coming, but it came at last. Act III. 3. Twelve lines from the end of the third Scene of 130. Act III, there is not the least reason for substituting ' not ' for ' hut ' in the line. Making but reservation of yourselves, though the change has been made by some editors. Coriolanus declares that the end and aim of the plebeian party is to drive from the city every one who is not of their way of thinking, reserving none hut themselves — a suicidal policy ; for the time would come, when their enemies would attack them, and then, having none among them who were possessed of military capacity — for, to use the words of Aufidius, ' their tribunes were no soldiers ' — they would have to succumb without striking a blow, and would be carried away into a mean aiid miserable captivity. Acb IV. 3. 9. I am now going to plead for a condemned word in Act IV. 3. 9, But your favour is well appeared by your tongue, which Mr; Collier, following Steevens, changed to 'approved.' The change is pertainly specious; yet COBIOLANUS. 305 the Folios are all on the other side ; it may be as well, therefore, to hear what is to be said for ' is appeared.' It certainly would not be used in a novel or play of the nineteenth century, but it might have been familiar to the age of Shakespeare ; numbers of words and phrases were then current which have since fallen into disuse. We should hardly expect to hear any one say in conversation nowadays, ' His lordship is ivalked forth,' yet so says one of Shakespeare's characters. Stranger still, we have in the ' Comedy Of Errors,' Act V. 1. 388, And hereupon these errors are arose. Examples like these bid us be cautious, ere we oust a word because it jars upon modern ears. Had the expression been ' His favour is made apparent by his tongue,' no one would have said ,a word against it. Is it not possible that, in Shakespeare's day, the participle may have been permitffced to occupy the place of the adjective ? ' Is entered ' — ' is arrived' — ' is approached ' — 'is become ' — ' are ceased ' — are all found in Shakespeare, used pretty much, if not exactly, like 'enters,' 'arrives,' 'approaches," &c. Similarly ' is appeared ' and ' appears ' may both have been tolerated. There is an old smack about •is appeared,' which, though some may not relish it, perhaps they must stomach. I am very much inclined to believe that it is th6 genuine reading, a relic of the English of olden times. 306 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act IV. 6.2-4. The demon of change has again seized the critics in the very beginning of the 6th Scene, where, tliough the reading of the copies is cajjable of being explained, it is altered because it does not square with their notions of linguistic and grammatical propriety. What is easier than to construe the second line of the Scene thus, His remedies are tame, the present [is] peace and quietness of the people, which [that is, who] were before in wild hurry. On the one hand, the substantive verb is dropped in the second sentence, because ' are ' has been expressed in the first; on the other hand, 'the present ' is used as a noun substantive, of which there is no lack of examples. Thus in the 'Tempest,' Act I. 1. 57, the substantive verb is left to be understood, albeit it had not been previously expressed, as ' The king and prince at prayers ;' and in the same play, Act I. 1. 24, we have ' to work the peace of the present.' Yet in this passage of ' Coriolanus,' Theobald must needs interpolate ' i" before ' the present,' and all break after him like a flock of sheep. Act ly. 7. I now come to Aufidius* speech at the end of 28-55, the 4th Act, which, it must be acknowledged, is as complicated a piece of work as perhaps may be foand in all Shakespeare. Before I glance at particular parts of it, I may as well state generally, that the COEIOLANUS. 307 sketch which Aufiditis gives of Coriolanus' character, together with the statement that accompanies it that more depends on public opinion than on personal merit, is subordinate to the jvediction which he utters in the opening lines of his speech, that Goriolanus would be received with open arms by the people of Eome ; while his reference to the instability of power, and to what I may call a great law of natural dynamics, is preparatorij to his second prediction, that Coriolanus will fall and be politically annihilated. A blaze, and then darkness — such, in a word, is Aufidius' prognosti- cation of Coriolanus' future. Ominous forebodings, which, coming at the very end of the 4th Act, foreshadow the scenes of tumult and bloodshed, which disturb and stain the termination of the 5th ! Such being the main drift, and such the general connexion, of the various parts of the speech, we need not over- much repine, if we cannot make sure of the precise meaning ef every word and phrase in it. It may be a moot point, but it is not a matter of mighty moment, whether the sentence he has a merit To choke it in the utterance means, as Mr. Aldis Wright takes it, ' to prevent the sentence being uttered,' or, as othjers, ' to prevent the fault being insisted on,' even if ' utterance ' ma,y not have to be considered a different word altogether — viz., the word which is used in ' Macbeth,' Act III. 308 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. 1. 72, and in ' Cymbeline,' Act III. 1. 73, — in which case the meaning would rather be, ' he has a merit to choke the fault in the long run,' as we say, or ' when matters come to the uttermost extremity.' Nor will it make much odds, whether * power unto itself most commendable ' means ' power, which, if viewed objectively, in itself, independently of any other consideration, is worthy of commendation ; ' or, as others, ' power with a high opinion of itself ; ' or, as another puts it, ' power of which the commendations are apt to be addressed to itself"; ' or, as another, ' power, which, kept to itself, not talked or boasted of, is most commendable or most commended.' As for the couplet, Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair To extol what it hath done, that can only mean that the chair of office, which silently proclaims a man's merit, is too often, if he could but foresee it, the very tomb of his power; his exaltation accelerates his precipitation; from the pinnacle to the pit is but a step. Mr. Ald'is Wright is of opinion that the reading of the Folios may be retained in the line, Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do fail. 'Founder,' 'falter,' 'foiled are,' 'soiled are,' are some of the principal emendations which have been excogitated. If there is room for one more (and CORIOLANUS. 309 some one I really think we must choose, for I have not a word to say in defence of the reading of the copies here), I offer Rights by rights fuller, strengths by strengths do fail, the adjective ' fuller ' belonging to both clauses, though expressed only in the first, just as in ' Macbeth,' Act I. 2. 56, we have according to the Folios Point against point rebellious, arm 'gamst arm. The word I have ventured to suggest does not far diverge from the ductus literarum. We come now to the fifth Act, where it tasks the Act v. i. 15. shrewdest critical faculty to determine what the reading should be in the following lines — Act V. 1. 15-17— Why, so ; you have made good work I A pair of tribunes that have wracKd for Eome, To make coals cheap, a noble memory ! Let the reader be very sure that, whatever may be the word which happens to be printed in the particular edition of Shakespeare which he has in his possession, ' loracked ' is the word which is set down in the Folios, and, inasmuch as our word ' wrecked,' wherever it occurs, is almost invariably spelt in the original copies with an ' a ' and not with an ' e,' the presumption is that ' wrecked ' is^<^ word 310 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. which is here authorized by the FoHos. The meaning would be that the tribunes had (to borrow words from ' Macbeth ') ' laboured in their country's wreck.' The preposition '/o?-,' coming after 'wreck,' would be abnormal, but not necessarily un- Shakes- pearian. It might be illustrated by such expressions as the following, Kevenge the heavens for old Andronicus ! ' Titus Andronicus,' Act IV. 1. 129 ; How unluckily it happened, that I should purchase the day before for a little part, and undo a great deal of honour ! ' Timon,' Act III. 2. 52 ; Spare for no faggots. ' 1 Henry VI,' Act V. 4. 56. This is the best account that I can give of ' wrecked for Eome.' Can mora be said for the emendations which have been proposed ? ' Becked for,' that is, cared for Kome, with the result that they had as good as brought it to the fire, and reduced it to ashes — this is one reading. ' Racked for,' that is, raised the price of it, with the result that it was only fit foi; fuel, so that coals would be cheap — this is another reading. ' Wreaked for Borne ' may be mentioned as a third ; they had wreaked their vengeance on Coriolanus by expatriating him, under colour that it was for the CORIOLANUS. 311 public good; but what had they effected? They had cheapened coals ! and cheap enoiigh they would ' be, when the city was as it were the colliery to supply the fuel for its own conflagration; the allusion, of course, is to Coriolanus having refused to be called by any title, Till he had forged himself a name -6' the fire Of burning Eome. I can see no corruption, no obscurity, a little belowActv. i.tj. in the 71st line, which is the last of the following passage ; I kneel 'd before him : 'Twas very faintly he said, ' Eise ; ' dismiss'd me Thus, with his speechless hand : what he would do, He sent in writing after me ; what he would not. Bound ivith an oath to yield to Ms conditions. Coriolanus specified in his written despatch what concessions he was willing to make, adding, as a proviso, that in everything else Gominilis should bind himself by oath to submit to his (Coriolanus') conditions. In the last clause the subject is changed from Coriolanus to Cominius. The grammar may lack completeness, but it should b6 remembered that here we have a brief and hurried summary of a short and curt interview— a sort of running conver- sational comment : say there is a little looseness, there is no obscurity ; the Romans whp heard would not be slow to apprehend what was meant; their 312 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. fears had already anticipated the sinister tidings. Brevity here is surely a merit. The passage continues, So that all hope is vain Unless his noble mother and his wife, Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him For mercy to his country. Where, it has been asked, is the verb that should ■follow ' unless ? ' To which I reply, where is it in ' Kichard II,' Act V. 3. 32 ? My tongue cleave to my roof witTiin my mouth, Unless a 'pardon ere I rise or speak. Where is it in ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act IV. 1. 5? We must not seem to understand him, unless some one among us whom we must produce for an interpreter. Where is it in ' Othello,' Act I. 1. 23-24 ? Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster, unless the iooJmh fheoric. It may be an open question with some, whether in the above passages ' unless ' should be parsed as a conjunction, or should be held to partake rather of the nature of a preposition ; but none can fail to be struck with the remarkableness of the coincidence, that in all the passages the same particle is found without a finite verb actually following it. For my -Own part, I hold that in the passage in ' Coriolanus ' It is most certainly a conjunction, and that in all CORIOLANUS. 313 probability the verb that belongs to it, and that should be mentally supplied after it, is the verb that occurs in the relative clause tvhich follows — yes, the same verb, but not used in exactly the same sense ; for, whereas in the relative clause ' solicit ' means ' to earnestly entreat,' in the principal clause, where we say that it is understood, it can only mean ' to prevail by entreaty,' one verb (as is not uncommon) serving for two clauses, which in its strict acceptation suits only one of them. There is surely no maze here to hinder us from treading out the way readily. One passage more : the use of ' verify ' in the Act v. 2. 17. sense of 'to truly represent,' and with a person for its object, is certainly not one with -which we are familiar ; yet such is the only meaning which it can bear in Act V. 2. 17, For I have ever verified my friends, Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity Would without lapsing suffer. We are not altogether surprised that ' verified ' in this passage has been regarded as spurious. In the absence of examples, corroborating such an unusual signification of it, opinions will be divided as to its genuineness. That Shakespeare sometimes took an old word and gave it a new meaning, is pretty well known to every one who has read his plays with ordinary attention. That he may have 314 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. done so here, is quite within the bounds of possibihty. The occurrence of 'verity' in the succeeding hne seems to me to indicate that ' verify ' was the verb used. From the same circumstance others may draw an inference the very reverse. But this I would say, we must not expect, as a matter of course, to find in Shakespeare duphcates of what I may call Shakespearian curiosities. Many of his strange and strangely used words occur but once, proving how careful he was not to adulterate with too liberal an admixture of alloy the pure gold of the English tongue. Perhaps it may not be irrelevant to add, -that another verb of Latin origin, with similar termination and of like formation to ' verified '—I mean ' mortified ' — is -used at times by Shakespeare in what seems to commentators a strange and exceptional signification. The reader has but to glance at a note of the Cambridge editors on 'Macbeth,' Act V. 3. 2 (Clarendon Press Series), and he will find that ' mortified ' is as much a puzzle there as ' verified ' is here. In the 'Tempest,' Act V. 1. 128, 'And justify you traitors ' can only mean 'justly represent,' and so ' prove,' you traitors. For 'justly ' substitute ' truly,' and have we not the meaning of ' verify ' which is required here ? It is true that this is not the ordinary signification of the wprd, but is it not one which may fairly be put upon it ? It is CORIOLANUS. 315 Shakespeare with whom we are deahng, who with much originality of thought combined some original • ity of diction. That he did not abuse the power of language with which he was endowed, that he coined new words but rarely, and but rarely set a new and fancy value on old words, is proof alike of his moderation and his judgment. Upon the whole, then, we are more inclined in this passage to accuse the critics of intolerance, than the copyist of carelessness, or the great composer of licentious and unwarranted innovation. 316 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. TITUS ANDEONICUS. The tragedy of ' Titus Andronicus ' was published for the first time in Quarto, and published, we are told, with remarkable accuracy. There are certainly not many passages in it to exercise the ingenuity of Act 11. 5. 126. the critic. Yet the editors of the 'Globe' Shakes- peare must have thought that there is some inaccuracy in the line, And with that painted hope braves your mightiness, Act II. 3. 126, as they have marked it as faulty, on the ground, I suppose, of metrical incompleteness. Perhaps the pronoun ' she ' has been omitted before the verb ' braves ;' perhaps the compound ' outbraves ' orig- inally stood, where the simple verb now stands ; but it is quite as probable that tlie critics are too fidgety, and would enforce metrical uniformity at the expense of metrical variety. 'Braves,' emphasized in pronunciation into the time of two syllables, may bo tantamount to a dissyllable, as is the case sometimes with 'safe,' and notably with ' fire,' ' hour,' TITUS ANDEONICUS. 317 ' near,' ' aches.' In ' The Taming of the Shrew ' we have Pisa renown'd for grave citizens, Act I. I. 10, where ' grave ' is so weighty, that it is equivalent to two syllables. There are not a few lines in Shakes- peare which have the same curious peculiarity, and, as they cannot possibly be all author's oversights or transcriber's blunders, our best plan is to admit all of them, as composed by Shakespeare, and not afterwards repented of, or rejected "by him. For a long time a cloud of doubt hung over the Act in. i. word ' castle ' in Act III. 1. 170, ^^°" Writing destruction on the enemy's castle, but the cloud vanished the moment light fell upon it from ' Grose's Ancient Armour,' which revealed to us that ' castle ' was a title given to a close kind of helmet. Immediately Theobald's ' casque ' dis- appeared, and another critic's ' crest;' comes to the fore a passage from ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act V. 2. 187, and, Diomed, Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head, where, though the language may admit of being otherwise explained, there must be a partial refer- ence to the head-piece of the hero. Compare also 318 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Clifford's threat to Warwick, « 2 King Henry VI,' Act V. 1. 200, I am resolved to bear a greater storm Than any thou canst conjure up to-day ; And that I'll write upon thy hurgonet, Might I but know thee by thy household badge. Act III. 1. There is a difficulty in fixing the reading in the ^^^' 282nd line of the same Act and Scene, where the Quarto and the Folio differ as to the word with which the line should end, the former having Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in these Armes, the latter ' in these things.' The Quarto, the prior publication, shall have the priority. ' Armes ' was ousted, not because it was untenable, but because it was not understood ; * things ' was put in its place for want of a better word. I see no reason why ' arms ' should not be taken here in its ordinary sense of ' hostilities,' but I much prefer to assign to it its more specific meaning of ' weapons ' or ' implements of war.' It is with the tone and the air and the terrible earnestness of a maniac, that Titus Andron- icus, the conqueror in so many battles, rouses himself as it were for one more campaign of vengeance, not now against his country's foes, but against his domestic and personal enemies. Parodying the duties of his profession, he musters his strength, and flourishes his arms, Arms indeed ! TITUS ANDEONICUS. 319 A stump of a hand ! a pair of corpseless heads ! Horrible mockery ! nor less so, when, turning to Lavinia, a helpless, mutilated, hopelessly injured cripple, he exclaims triumphantly, that she shall be employed in the prosecution of that warfare, or in the management of those arms ; and he enlists her in the service, and instructs her how to take her part. Were I seeking to alter rather than to explain, I should still take the word of the Quarto as the starting point, and say that the aspirate had been dropped, and that 'harms,' which is used in Shakespeare in the two-fold sense of injuries inflicted and injuries received, was in all likelihood the genuine original word. In either case the accent of ' femploy'd ' will fall on the _/irs« rather than on the last syllable, which is surely not a Shakespearian impossibility. For is it not _ notorious that Shakespeare is variable — is sometimes eccentric — in his mode of accenting? In this very play ' ordained ' is accentuated on the first syllable ; and elsewhere we have ' congealed,' ' curtailed,' ' Excuse ' (the verb), •' infect,' ' oppose,' etc., etc. I take the line, then, as I find it; I offer what seems to be a reasonable .explanation of the reading of the Quarto; all that I assume is an anomaly founded on Shakespearian analogy. Are those who would alter the text justified in doing so, merely on account of the exceptional accentuation of a single word. 320 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act IV. 1. And why change ' the ' of the Quartos and Folios into ' ye ' in Act IV. 1. 129, Eevenge the heavens for old Andronicus. The optative, for which there is no lack of precedent, is quite as admissible as the direct precatory form. Act IV. 2. In Act IV. 2. 152, where all the Quartos and all the Fohos have Not far one Muliteus, my countryman, His wife but yesternight was brought to bed, editors, at a loss for a finite verb for the nominative case ' Muliteus,' dock that word of its final syllable, and forge from the piece cut off the word which they think they require, I shall broach the question whether ' Muliteus ' is a nominative case at all. There is an obsolete mode of forming the possessive or genitive case, by means of a noun followed by the possessive pronoun ' his ' in lieu of the usual form of s preceded by an apostrophe. I will transcribe a few examples : Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys ' Twelfth Night,' Act III. 3. 26 ; 0, you, my lord ? by Mars Ms gauntlet, thanks 1 ' Troilus and Oressida,' Act IV. 5. 177 ; Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne. 'King Lear, Act II. 4, 215-217 ; TITUS ANDRONICUS. 321 and perhaps This misshapen knave His moilwr was a witch. ' Tempest,' Act V. 1.268, Now is it not possible that we may have some such idiom as this in the passage which we are now considering ? Whereas a modern author would have written ' One Muliteus my oduntryman's wife,' Shakespeare chose to write ' One Muliteus, my^ countryman, his wife.' The archaistic form of the genitive was more convenient, because the proper noun which was intended for thai case stands in a different line, and consequently is somewhat far removed from the noun on which it depends, besides being cut off from it by an intercalary appositional phrase, so that there is a sort of compound compli- cation. With regard to the name, it has been thought hardly possible that Shakespeare could have coined it, and consequently that orthographical or historical research might throw some light on the text here. I can only say that Muliteus is as appropriate for a Moorish slave, as Demetrius is for a Gothic prince. Were I obliged to find a verb, I am not sure that I should see in the termination ' tens ' the verb * lives,' which the Cambridge editors fancy; 'tens' might have been miswritten for ' te^its,' Aaron's Moorish friend preferring the freedom of a tent to the confinement of a settled habitation, or Aaron, with more truth 322 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. than he was aware of, might designate every house a tent. At the same time that I suggest this mode of smoothing the difficulty, I can see another and simpler method, which does not interfere at all with the reading of the copies. Perhaps there was never meant to be a verb at all ; the substantive verb is often dropped, is easily supplied, e.g., My residence in Eome at one Pliilario's : *' Cymbeline,' Act I. 1. 97. These loose constructions are common in the impromptu utterances of social life ; they have additional fitness, where, as in the instance quoted, the conversation is hurried : here too there is a tickle business on foot which requires the utmost despatch; Aaron hits it off promptly and tells it quickly ; rapid in his shifts, rapid in his speech ; the expression suits the emergency. We need not here ' hedge aside from the direct forthright.' Act IV. 2. Nor is there any reason to harbour suspicion of 1 77 1 78 ' ■ the 177th and 178th lines, I'll make you feed on berries and on roots, And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat, merely because the same verb happens to be twice repeated in two successive lines. The repetition is not intolerable. Such tiny Specks may be noted ; they should not be censured. TITUS AKDRONIOUS. 323 By the time that we have come to ' Titus Andronicus' we have become so famihar with the short lines which Shakespeare occasionally introduces, that we should cease to notice or at least to comment. on them, were it not that that they are stigmatized by the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare ; but as touching Act V. Act v. 1. 132. 1. 132, Make poor men's cattle break their necTjs, it may be sufficient to remark that the curtailment harmonizes with the catastrophe. The same may be said of that line in ' The Taming of the Shrew,' The match is made, and all is done. In Act V. 3. 124, the words ' A7icl as he is' are Act v. 3, 124. unfairly accused, and would be badly altered to 'damn'd as he is,' which one emendator conjectures. In the recapitulation of the events of the tragedy Marcus confines himself to a recital of that portion in which Aaron bore a conspicuous part ; Behold this child : [Pointing to the Child in lite arms of an Attendant.'] Of this was Tamora delivered ; The issue of au irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes ; The villain is alive in Titus' house, And as he is, to witness this is true. Is it possible that ' he ' refers not to Aaron, but to 324 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAKE. the child, and that, when Marcus says, ' as he is,' he points a second time to the httle one, intimating that such was the villain's hue, such were his features, leaving no doubt that lie was the father ? If, how- ever, this position be accounted untenable, I will fall back upon a second line of defence, and contend that the phrase is a curt contemptuous mode of describing the physiognomy and character of Aaron. The affirmation or the adjuration of such a liar would hardly be accepted by any as eviddnce, but that there should be one alive in Titus' house, and that that one should have the coal-black hue that darkened the child and the malignity of spirit capable of conceiving and executing such nefarious practices — that he should be alive and be as he was — this might be considered by Marcus amply sufficient evidence to convince the Romans, that the tale that had been told was true. Compare Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you. ' Taming of the Shrew,' Act IV. 1. 141 ; As we are ourselves, what things are we ! ' All's Well That Ends Well,' Act IV. 3. 24. EOMEO AND JULIET, 325 KOMEO AND JULIET. Before I proceed to make any comments of my own on certain marked passages in ' Romeo And Juliet,' it will be as well to transcribe for the reader, as nearly as possible in their own language, what the Cambridge editors, in their preface to ' Romeo and Juliet ' in the ' Cambridge Shftkespeare,' tell us concerning the editions, which are our chief authorities for the text of the play. ' The first edition was published in 1597. The text ' of this first Quarto differs widely from that of later ' and more perfect editions ; probably the play as at ' first written is substantially the same as that given * in the later editions, the defects of the first * impression being due not to the. author, but to the ' writer of the MS. from which that first impression ' was printed. That MS. was probably obtained from ' notes taken in shorthand during the represent- ' ation ; some of the players may have helped the ' writer from memory, or by lending him their parts ' in MS. Thus the earliest text is not derived from 326 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. ' a bona fide transcript of the author's MS. Perhaps * the play, as seen by the shorthand writer, was ' curtailed in the representation. ' The second Quarto, which was printed in 1599, * was probably an edition authorized by Shakespeare ' and his ' fellows,' and was intended to supersede * the surreptitious and imperfect edition of 1597. ' The play so published we believe to be substantially ' identical with the play, as at first composed ; it ' seems, however, to have been revised- by the author, ' newly corrected, augmented, and amended.' Here * and there a passage has been re-written.' ' Our best authority is the secoiid Quarto, but the ' first Quarto must be taken into account. For it is ' certain that the second Quarto was not printed from ' the author's MS., but from a transcript, the writer ' of which was careless, and took unwarrantable ' liberties with the text.' ' The third, fourth, and fifth Quartos were more or ' less copies of the second. The text of the Folio * was taken from that of the the third Quarto ; where ' it differs from it, it almost invariably differs for the * worse.' Now, assuming that in the above summary we have a fairly accurate representation of the facts of the case, I shall ask the reader's assent to the ROMEO AND JULIET. 327 following proposition, that, wherever the text of the second Quarto differs from that of the first, and, both are exegeticaUy possible, the text of the Second Quarto should be preferred to that of the first. With this exordium, I set about my task. In Act 1. 2. 16, where Capulet says Aoti. 2. le. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth, the repetition of 'earth' in the second line, its disputed meaning, its violation of the rhyme which is regularly sustained throughout the remainder of Capulet's speech, have given a handle to sorue critics to entertain a suspicion that the copyist has made a mistake ; and, if such were the case, a passage in 'Venus and Adonis,' lines 754, 765, Love-lacking vestals and self -loving nuns, That on the earth would breed a scarcity And barren dearth of daughtsrs and of /ions, would supply US in * dearth ' with a word, which would accurately describe Capulet's domestic desolation. But truth compels us to acknowledge that ' earth ' is almost certainly the genuine word of the poet : its meaning may be sufficiently illustrated by such passages as ' The Comedy Of Errors,' Act III. 2. 64, It is thyself, mine own self's better part. My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim ; 328 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. and ' Lucrece,' 487th line, My will that marks thee for my earth's delight. Act I. 2, The 32nd and 33rd lines Qf the same speech of 32 33 ' " Capulet's have been pronounced corrupt, and are not altogether free from a certain ambiguity ; but the ambiguity would vanish, the moment the actor opened his lips, and impressed their meaning deiinitely and distinctly on an Elizabethan audience. They may be thus translated into modern English, ' Give her the preference as the most deserving, ' whoever, on further view of many, mine being one ' of those many, may stand among the number ' presented to the eye, though she may not hitherto ' have been taken into account.' A comma should stand after ' many.' Language similar, though differently applied, may be found in the 136th Sonnet, In things of great receipt with ease we prove Among a number one is reckon'd none : Then in the number let me pass untold, Though in thy stores' account I one must be. Act I. i. Ishallnextnoticeapassagein Actl. 4. 40-45,which is thus given in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare : Mer. Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word : If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou atick'st Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho I Rom. Nay, that's not so. Mer. I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. ROMEO AND JULIET. 329 Two distinct proverbs are here alluded to; the first is ' dun's the mouse,' which seems to have been the utterance of some doughty constable, and the full fun of which was no doubt fresh in the recollection of Shakespeare's contemporaries ; the second, ' Dun is m the mire,' which must also have been familiar at that time, but the origin of which was probably as great a mystery then as it is now. It seems to have given rise to the proverbial simile;' As dull as Dun in the mire,' to which there is an allusion as far back as the days of Chaucer ; for in the ' Canterbury Tales' in the ' Manciple's Prologue ' we read Ther gan our hoste to jape and to play, And sayde : sires, what ? Dun is in the mire. Ib there no man for praiere ne for hire. That wol awaken our felaw. behind. Now just as there the ' hoste ' applied the proverb to the ' Coke of London,' who was malingering, and ' napping ' from having drunk too much, and unable to tell a tale ' worth a hotel hay,' and was at last cast by his horse in the mire, whence they had ' enough to do to lift him up,' so Mercutio =here, catching at Eomeo's ' I am done,' twits him fpr being a laggard in respect of the company, and a defaulter in respect of the merriment, and in imminent peril of falling into the slough of love, from which they would have to pull him out by the ears. If, as some think, 'Dun' was a nickname for a donkey, Mercutio would give 330 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKBSPEABE. Romeo, as Puck did to Bottom, a pair of ass' ears. And here we have an instance of what in the commencement of my paper I hinted was likely to be. The first Quarto reads ' Of this sir-reverence love ;' the rest of the Quartos, ' Or save you reverence love,' or, as the Folios have it, ' Or save your reverence love,' which was no doubt intended, the final r of * your ' having been accidentally omitted, because the word which immediately follows begins with the same letter. Either reading may be paralleled from Shakespeare. Which should we choose ? The latter, being authorized by the bona fide second Quarto, should have the pre-eminence. The clause, ' save your reverence,' which is of an apologetic character, occurs in ' Much Ado About Nothing,' where, by the way, the Cambridge editors rightly place the inverted commas thus,' saving your reverence, a husband,' rather than, as some do, thus, saving your reverence, ' a husband,' Margaret intimating that ' Hero was so prudish as to think that the word ' husband ' required an apology.' There is a difference, too, in the reading of the 45th line, the early Quarto having We burne our lights by night, Uke Lampes by day, the rest of the Quartos and the Folios, We waste our hghts in vaine, Kghts, lights, by day, the Folios contributing the commas. "We may choose ROMEO AND JULIET. 331 either, but we must not do, as apothecaries do with drugs, mix them together, taking a httle from this and a httle from that, and so compound a line. A semicolon may, or may not, stand after ' delay.' If I glance in passing at the 39th line of Act II. 2. Act ii. 2. 39. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague, it is because persistent attempts have been made to alter it without any necessity. Juliet draws a distinction between a man's self and a man's name. The former exists quite irrespectively of the latter. The child must be born before it is named. The name neither makes a man nor unmakes him. It is a mere outside, an accident, a something which, if if he had not, or which if, after having, he dropped, he would still be. Bomeo is not what -he is, because he is a Montague ; he would be what he is, though he were not a Montague. The line, as it stands, is in all the Folios, and all the Quartos, 1 save only the Quarto of 1597. All that I can venture to say of that mysterious Act 11. 5. 15. capital, so tantahzing to the curious, .which in the second Quarto is prefixed to Act II. 5. 16, ' M. And his to me, but old folks, many fain as they were dead, is, that it does not appear in the fourth and fifth Quartos, nor in any of the Fohos, ancl therefore it cannot have been considered essentially necessary. 33'2 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Nor may the presence of it be accepted as an indica- tion tliat tlie lini's — for tliey are printed as two in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare — are spurious. That the imagery is Shakespeare's, may be seen in ' Love's Labour's Lost,' Act III. 1. 60. ' Fain as they were dead,' of course, means ' put ;Qn a semblance of being dead, when no such matter ' — a pardonable hyperbole, when we consider Juliet's impatient eagerness for tidings of her lover, the Nurse's unaccountable long tarrying, and the sensational account which the Nurse gave of her own collapse. Some have wished to substitute ' marry ' for ' many,' but 'many' is a necessary modification of what would otherwise be a too sweeping condemnation. For the position of 'many,' see the song sung by the Fool in 'King Lear," Act III. 2, So beggars marry many. Act Til. 2. I now approach a passage in the very commence- ment of Act III. Sc. 2, which has long been an infamis scopnlus to pilots, and has shipwrecked many. It is where Juliet, anticipating the consummation of her nuptials, says. Gallop apace, you fiery-foo]ted steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging : such a waggoner As Phaetbon would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway's eyes may wink, and Romeo ROMEO AND JULIET. 333 Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. Lovers can see to do tlieir amorous rites By their owii beauties ; or, if love be bUnd, It best agrees with night. The 2nd and 3rd Quartos have ' runnawayes ; ' the 4th Quarto and the Ist and 6th FoHos, 'run-awayes ;' the 2nd and 3rd Fohos, ' run-awaies ; ' the 4th Foho, ' run-aways.' The Cambridge editors brand the hne and so leave it. Numerous conjectures have been started, none of them probable, but all bearing witness to a general uncomfortable feeling that what we have here is but a mangled shadow, the delusion of a copyist. I shall not pester the reader with fantastic speculations, or uncertain guesses ; I can guarantee him here the restoration of the very epithet which the poet originated — not, my good sirs, that I take a particle of credit to myself for the discovery; I simj)ly happed upon it, as any other might have done, in another portion of Shakespeare, where it was next to impossible not to recognize the duplicate. For who can glance at the following lines in the 56th Sonnet, So, love, be thou : although to-day thou fill Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fuhiess. To-morrow see again, and do not kill The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness, and not perceive that here hangs the golden apple we are all looking for? Aye, 'hungry eyes,' spelt possibly 'hungeray eyes,' 'hunnegray eyes,' or 334 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. perhaps, ' eyes ' having been written twice over by mistake, ' hungrayeyes eyes '—this is what has come down to us in the almost unrecognizable metamor- phosis of 'runnawayes eyes,' a stunted h having been mistaken for an r. For spell ' hungry ' with an r instead of an h, spell it in an ©Id-fashioned way, just as many an unlettered peasant might spell it now, and between ' hungry ' and 'runaway ' may be traced a sort of grim resemblance. We can easily conceive how the copyist was hoodwinked. The gallop that Juliet wished for the horses of the sun deluded him into the belief that ' rmiaivay ' was the epithet for the lovers' eyes ; the rarer and more rescherche word — that beautiful, appropriate, Shakespearian epithet, which pourtrays to the very life the passionate longing of Juliet for the desire of her heart — that never so much as entered his mind. Both in ' Eomeo and Juliet ' and in the Sonnet the theme is the same, viz., Love. But the winking referred to in the play is not identical with the winking referred to in the Sonnet. In the Sonnet it was a winking from a surfeit. Not such was the winking for which Juliet sighed. What that was, the goddess of Love shall testify : hear what Venus says to Adonis: Art thou ashamed to kiss ? then ivink again, And I will tvink ; so shall Uie day seem night ; Love keeps his revels where therp are but twain ; Be bold to play, our sport is not 'in sight. KOMEO AND JULIET. 335 Here, then, we have what the winking was for — ' to make day seem night' is Venus' word; to make night's darkness doubly dark was JuHet's wish. It is true that Night's curtain is supposed to have been already drawn, Sed Luna videt, sed sidera testes Intendunt oculos, and couched lovers would have nor moon nor stars as witnesses, but would lie shrouded in thick Cimmerian gloom. Nor was it the eye alone which ' hungered ' for the feast ; ' the other agents aimed at like delight ; ' and so the winking of the eyes was but a prelude to what is described in the words which follow, and Eome'o Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. Let the reader now open Munro's Lucretius, and in Bk. I, Notes II, line 86, he will find that the bold metaphor which I have shown that Shakespeare actually uses elsewhere, and which I have expressed my strong conviction that he uses here, has been used by Lucretius, and used by Spenser ; so true is it that in every country the language of Nature is the same. I need only add that in Act III. 5. 177-178 the Act iii. s. 177-178 short sharp explosive detonations of old Capulet are so well expressed by the rhythm of the lines, 336 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. God's bread ! it makes me mad : Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, Alone, in company, still my care hath been To have her match'd, that it is marvellous that any should have wished the first two lines to be other than they are. That ' hour ' should have a dissyllabic pronunciation goes Act V. 1. 1. almost without saying. Still more surprising is it that any should have stumbled at ' truth ' in the first line of the 5th Act, If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, which may either mean ' if I may trust that sleep is true in its flattering suggestions,' or there may be an allusion to that seeming truthfulness of all that we fancy we see, when we dream, so that sometimes even in our dreams we ask ourselves whether it is not rather a dream and no reality, and in our dreams we are constrained to answer that it is no dream, but a reality. But, whatever be the exact shade of meaning, I am as confident that ' truth ' is the true word, as I am that I am now writing my last line on ' Eomeo and Juliet.' TIMON OF ATHENS. 337 TIMON OF ATHENS. The first question that we have to a'sk in ' Timon Act 1. 1. 236- Of Athens ' is, What is the force and significance of the last hne of the following dialogue between Apemantus and Timon, which is found in Act I. 1. 236-241 ? Apmn. Heavens, that I were a lord ! Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus ? Ap&m. E'en as Apemantus does now ; hate a lord with my heart. Tim. "What, thyself ? Apem. Ay. Tim. Wherefore ? Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. The last words are so extremely simple, that it would seem as if they must carry with them their own explanation, yet no commentator that I am aware of has yet succeeded in fixing their meaning, and many have confessed their inability by pro- nouncing them corrupt. We may safely start with the assumption that Apemantus' aim was to make Timon smart. How does he set about this? He begins by wishing that he himself were a lord. 338 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Why this ? To put himself as it were en rapport with Timon, to stand in Timon's place, to personate Timon, in order that every stone which he threw at himself might indirectly hit Timon. So far, then, as Apemantus' replies are concerned, we must regard him for the time being as in his own estimation no longer himself, but a sort of quasi- Timon. The question which would be next asked him he easily foresaw, ' What would he do then ?' His answer was ready— ' Hate himself ? ' ' Wherefore ? ' ' That he had no angry wit to be a lord ' — that is to say, that he had not the sense and spirit to maintain his independence, vindicate his authority, dominate and frown away the flatterers who surrounded him, confounding them by his wit, scattering them in his wrath. Apemantus would be — that is, Timon should be — ashamed of himself, or (to use Apemantus' own expression) Apemantus would — that is, Tivion should —hate himself for giving entertainment at all to such filthy hungry parasites, who hung upon him and had got complete mastery of him, and, under pretence of caressing him, would consume him away, till they had picked him clean and bare. It is Timon s willing surrender of himself to the flatterers that Apemantus here rails at. The words last uttered by Apemantus before the dialogue commenced, viz., ' He that loves to be flattered is imrthij of the flatterers,' give us a clue to the enigma. TIMON OF ATHENS. 339 Our next difficulty consists of a word, which Acti. 2. 73. occurs in a line which follows as a sort of rider to Apemantus' grace — Act I. 2. 73 — Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus ! In the glossary appended to the ' Globe ' Shakes- peare it is stated that ' dich ' is the optative mood, contracted for ' do it;' and this is what Dr. Johnson says in his Dictionary, without, however, giving any other example of its use. It is worthy of observation that in two other passages of Shakespeare, viz., in the ' Merry Wives of Windsor,' Act I. 1. 83, where the very same words occur, and in ' The Taming of the Shrew,' where almost the same words Ao,'do it ' is found, and not ' dich.' Some have Supposed that ' dich ' is merely a careless piece of copying, and should be ejected from the text for 'do it;' others have fancied that the final letter of ' good ' — the word which immediately precedes 'dich' — has been repeated by mistake for r, the first letter of the verb ' rich,' the participle of which occurs in ' King Lear.' But I dismiss all these airy fancies, and the more readily, if, as has been whispered to me by a learned critic, ' dich,' though not recognised by Dr. Johnson, nor familiar to the higher and more cultivated ranks of society, is notwithstanding a good old English word, used at times even now, though rarely — for such words have a tendency to die out, being succeeded by fitter which survive them — in the humbler walks 340 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. of life : his face is ' diched,' i.e., covered, 'with dirt' — 'the thighs of the bees are diched,' i.e., laden, • with honey ' — such are expressions which are said to have been heard, and it is much to be wished that those, who have studied the English language, not merely as it is in books, but as it is spoken by the people themselves in outlying places, should give, if they can, confirmatory evidence. ' Dich ' may have been common enough among poor folk in times gone by ; Shakespeare may have heard it, and may have considered that a word, mumbled forth by some weird old crone, while munching her crust of bread in her miserable hovel, might not inappropriately be growled forth by the cynic — the brtite, Apemantus, after he had howled forth his ungracious grace, and snarlingly gnawn his root. There are old words, ending in ich, such as 'mich' and 'lich,' which have fallen into disuse. ' Dich ' may be another specimen of the tribe. For the present, then, I would retain it as at any rate good enough for Apemantus. Act III. 2. 13. We may now read Scene after Scene without interruption, until we come to a part of the tragedy where Fortune in lier shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved. Timon is sHding down the hill, and, instead of being supported by troops of flatterers, is being TIMON OF ATHENS. • 341 pursued and sued by hosts of creditors, all eager that their claims should be instantly satisfied. Not a penny has Timon in hold, yet he cannot but believe that those, who tasted so largely of his bounty in the day of his aifiuence, would requite him now in the day of his indigence, or at least accommodate him with a loan ; he sends forth his servants, therefore, to Lucullus for fifty talents ; to Lucius for — the words actually attributed to the servant are ' so many talents ; ' but, if this is what he said, he must by some notation or other, by finger or by figure, graphically or pictorially, have made plain the sum that Timon required; from Lucius' reply I gather that it might have been 500, it might have been only 60 talents — the latter sum, perhaps, the more probable as tallying with the amount which Lucullus was asked for. Not more taken aback was Lucius at the appeal thus made to him, than commentators appear to be at the answer which fell from Lucius' lips— Act III. 2. 43 — He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. I do not think that there has been any falsification of the amount. We may say of the difiiculty solvitur legendo. The actor would annihilate it by a breath. It is simply a matter of how the line should be read — where the emphasis should be laid. By laying the stress on 500, if the sum asked for were 50, or on 50, if the sum asked for were 500, the amount 342 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. is easily accounted for. Xiucius affects to be incredulous: he cannot think that Timon can be in earnest. 'Fifty talents!' — he as good as cries — 'Fifty talents! His lordship is merry with me: such a rich man as he cannot want' — that is, cannot be without, must have in his possession, and therefore can command — 'fifty five hundred talents, if he needed them;' or, supposing the sum asked for were 500, on 50 be the emphasis laid. Does the explanation smack too much of the Multiplication Table? Is it not sufficiently poetical? Another mode of computation has been suggested to me by a critic whose judgment I value. After saying fifty, Lucius suddenly stops, and raises the sum to a much larger figure. Such are two modes of explaining the line; if cither of them will stand, the charge of corruption falls to the ground. Act III. 6. 89. Our next stopping-place is where Timon has assembled his false friends to a banquet such as they deserve ; before the dishes are uncovered, he says a characteristic grace, in the course of which we come to the words — Act III. 6. 89 — The rest of your fees, gods— the senators of Athens, together with the common lag of people — what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they welcome. ' Fees ' is certainly not the word that we should have TIMON OF ATHENS. 343 expected, but we are not so straitened as to be obliged to exchange it for Warburton's and Mason's obvious correction ' foes.' ' Fees ' admits of being defended. It is true that it cannot be used in its ordinary sense of a pecuniary recompense, but may it not here bear the meaning that belongs to it in books of jurisprudence ? Shakespeare was not averse to legal phraseology ; this very word in its legal signification, either compounded or uncom- pounded, is found more than once in his plays ; if, when speaking of the evil Deity, he could say, ' If the Devil have him not in fee-simple,' it is quite possible that, when addressing the good Gods, he might have used the simple word 'fees.' The fee includes all the interest in the property. ' Fees ' would not be an inappropriate way of describing the great human estate belonging to the gods. With regard to Act IV. 3. 134, if, as I think not Act iv. 3. 134. improbable, a bawd is an error, it is just the error that a copyist might have committed, considering the particular class of persons who were at the time the subject of Timon's denunciatioxi ; and, if an error, we may be pretty sure it bears a rough resemblance both as to sound and as to lettering to the word set down in the original. N6w it is stated that the power of gold is such as to make the unclean turn clean ; with as much truth it might be said that it can make the clean unclean— make ivhores 344 HARD KNOTS IN SHAEESPEABE. — the number of the noun is especially noteworthy— 'abound.' Such, I conceive, is what Timon was meant to say in the second clause : • abound,' illegibly and not continuously written, might not unnaturally in this place have been mistaken for ' a bawd.' A similar sentiment is expressed in Act IV. 3. 386 of this play, where Timon says ' the blush of gold ' doth thaw the consecrated snow That Ues on Dian's lap, and in ' Eomeo and Juliet ' gold is called ' saint- seducing,' and in 'Antony and Cleopatra' we are told that ' want will perjure the ne'er touch'd Vestal.' The remark would be anything but com- plimentary to Phryna and Timandra. Act IV. 3, 223. And now that we are about words, what is the epithet, and what is the force of the epithet, that should be applied to the trees in the 223rd line of this 3rd Scene, where the Folios have will these moyst [moist] trees. That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, And skip where thou point'st out? Is it the livery ? or is it the age ? or is it the vigour and strength that should give the finishing stroke to this splendid piece of composition ? In other words, should we read ' moss'd ' with Hanmer, and, I may add, with most editors ? or should we adhere to ' moist,' the word of the Folios ? The word of the Folios should have the precedence, which has been TIMON OP ATHENS. 345 discounted perhaps somewhat too hastily and on insufficient grounds. For the contrast would be between Timon ' forwelked and fordwined,' and now after an ephemeral existence tottering on the brink of the grave, and these fine old giants of the forest, which, though they had already outlived the eagle, were yet * moist,' that is, strong and vigorous, full of the juice and sap of life. So interpreted, the epithet ' moist ' has a force and fitness, which can hardly be controverted. Admit this, and the critic will not be justified in displacing it even for Hanmer's happy hit, which is as poetical as it is plausible, and was in all likelihood suggested to him by a line in ' As You Like It,' Act IV. % 105, Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age. I have defended the word of the Folios; I have admitted the possibility of Hanmer's conjecture; but, if conjectures are to be listened to, there is another which does as little violence as possible to the word of the copies, and on its own account deserves to be considered. Below in Act IV. 3. 422, we read, ' The oaks bear mast: By writing the and i closely together, instead of separately, ' maat ' and ' moi&V become one and the same. 'Will these mast-trees' would be a rdading both strong and suitable. There migU be an allusion not only to their kind and quality, but 'ambiguously— the play on the word would not shock Shakespeare's 346 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. contemporaries— to their gigantic height as well ; for their antiquity is sufficiently expressed in the relative clause that follows. I have now stated possibilities ; probabilities I must leave to the critics. Aotv.2. 6-9. There is nothing that I know of now, that calls for special comment, until we reach Act V. 2. 6-9, where the relative ' whom ' certainly needs some explanation. It seems to hang loosely without anything to govern it, and, in fact, to be almost a superfluity; yet it has its part to perform in the sentence which it introduces, and must on no account be tampered with. The duplication of the preposition for clearness' sake is an idiom of which we have perhaps a dozen examples in Shakespeare ; for clearness' sake in the following passage, I met a courier, one mine ancient friend ; Whom, though in general part we were opposed. Yet our old love made a particular force. And made us speak like friends, the relative ' whom,' being a long way off from the verb which was intended to govern it, no less than two sentences intervening between it and the sentence of which it properly forms part, is virtually repeated — I say, virtually, because the actual repetition of the relative would be an impossibility ; it is repeated, however, in its equivalent, and its equivalent, strictly TIMON OE ATHENS. 347 speaking, would be the personal pronoun ' him;' it is true that that pronoun is not found anywhere in the sentence to which the relative ' whom ' belongs, but it undoubtedly would have been, had it not been for the disturbing influence of the pronoun 'me,' which, as well as ' him,' had to be Bupphed. But ' him and me ' were more conveniently expressed by the pronoun 'us,' and so 'us' is inserted with as much boldness as briefness, and ' us ' is the word, in which the relative ' whom,' after performing its part as an introductory particle, is most certainly swallowed and lost. Had it not been for the complication caused by the necessity of expressing ' and me,' the case would have been simple enough, and would have found an exact parallel in the following lines from the ' Tempest,' Act III. 3. 53-56 : You are three men of sin, whom De^iny That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in't, the never surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you. Compare also ' Cymbeline,' Act V. 5. 464, and Act V. 1. 136-138 of this very play. As an objective case, then, ' whom ' is pleonastic ; as a connecting particle, it could not be dispensed with. I will not anticipate that any objection will be raised to the repetition of the verb ' made ' in two consecutive lines in the above passage ; such repeti- tions are not unprecedented. Compare, e.g., ' Titus 348 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. Andronicus,' Act IV. 2. 177-178; 'Measure for Measure,' Act III. 2. 287-288 ; ' Merchant of Venice,' Act II. 8. 42, where the word ' love ' is suspected, perhaps because it occurs again immediately after at the end of the 44th line ; it will be sufficient to say of such repetitions, that, if they slipped from the author in the hurry of composition, he did not think BO much amiss of them afterwards as to care to revise them. Act V. 3. i, 6. I now come to — shall I call it a soldier's excla- mation, or is it rather a sepulchral epitaph, in Act V. 3. 4, 5 ? At any rate it is a couplet which has given & world of trou;ble to expositors, and perhaps will ever remain dark and inexplicable. Sold, By all description this should be the place. Who's here ? speak, ho ! No answer I What is this ? Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd Ms span : Some beast reade [read'] this -, there does not live a man. Dead, sure ; and this his grave. What's on this tomb I cannot read ; the character I'll take with wax ; Our captain hath in every figure skill, An aged interpreter, though young in days : Before proud Athens he's set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. The third and fourth lines of the above passage form the couplet disputed about. Theobald (Warburton) reads Some beast rear'd this ; here does not live a man. TIMON OF ATHENS. 349 Mr. Staunton regards the tw6 lines printed in italics as the only part of the inscription which the soldier could read. The ' Globe ' editors, though they read 'rear'd,' ' incline to think that the words were originally intended as an epitaph to be read by the soldier ; but the author may have changed his mind, or forgotten to obliterate what was inconsistent with the sequel, or the text may have been tampered with.' As I am about to offer a totally new solution of this old and exceedingly difficult problem, I must bespeak not a particle of indulgent favour, but some amount of patience from the critic, who perhaps will be suspicious and sceptical when he hears me speak of novelties. I conceive, then, that the soldier comes to what, from the description given him, he supposes must be the place of Timon's abode, and shouts out, ' "Who's here ? Speak, ho ! ' On receiving no answer, he says to himself ' What is this ?,' which may either be an expression of surprise at the silencB of his reception — in which case it is equivalent to ' what is the meaning of this ?,' or an expression of wondering inquiry as to the character of the place which met his eye. I will take it in the latter of these two senses. In conse- quence of his eliciting no reply, he says Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span ; while in reference to his question, ' what is this ?,' 850 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. he tells us what it is ; he describes the character of the place — ' some beast- tread,' or ' some beast-road this ' (for so I read) ; ' here does not live a man ? ' This, he says, is rather fit to be a haunt of wild beasts than to be a habitation for any of human kind. Suddenly he espies the tomb, and, concluding at once that his surmise was correct, ' Dead sure,' he repeats, ' and this his tomb.' Thus without the addition — by the transposition only — of a single letter, I get rid of the necessity for supposing that there was a double epitaph, which appears to me extremely improbable, at the same time that I offer what I venture to think is a fair settlement of an exceedingly difficult question. I foresee some objections, and 1 shall endeavour to meet them. 1. The interpretation which I have given to the question ' What is this ? ' has been suggested to me by a passage in ' Cymbeline,' Act III. 6. 17, where curiously enough the very same wards have reference to a dreary wild : But what is this ? Here is a path to't ; 'tis some saS^age hold. 2. I acknowledge that I cannot give an example of the use of such a compound as ' beast- tread,' or ' beast-road,' but is it necessary ? May not a word. TIMON OF ATHENS, 351 compounded of two such simple 'English words as ' beast ' and ' tread,' be suffered ;to pass, especially when we consider how freely and boldly Shakespeare at times links words together ? If for every strange Shakespearian compound we must needs find a duplicate, we shall have to rej'ect as spurious a number of words which Shakespeare undoubtedly compounded. 3. It cannot be fairly inferred that the couplet is an inscription which the soldier read, merely because the lines rhyme. The soldier concludes his speech with a rhyming couplet, and such couplets are repeatedly introduced by Shakespeare seemingly quite arbitrarily. There are examples enough in this very play, as, for instance, in Flavius' last speech in Act I. 2 ; and in Apemantus' in the same Act, beginning with ' Hoyday ; ' and elsewhere. 4. If it be thought that the relative clause, ' who hath outstretch'd his span,' sounds more like part of a sepulchral inscription than a soldier's exclamation, what will be said of the relative -clause in the last line, ' whose fall the mark of his ambition is ? ' The style is the same. There is not the least reason why the soldier, who spoke the one, might not have spoken the other also. 5. I cannot think that the soldier could have seen the grave before he uttered the words, ' Dead 352 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKE'SPEAEE. sure, and this his grave ; ' nor that he could have read anything on the tomb, before he says, ' What's on this tomb, I cannot read.' The moment he saw the tomb, it were natural to supptDse that he would have told us of it ; he would not have approached leisurely, and tediously deciphered (for the soldier was no scholar) a couple of lines inscribed on it before coming to the conclusion that it was Timon's grave. Such slow processes are ill-suited to a soldier, whose object was not to read inscriptions, but to find Timon, and who would have known instantly what a grave in such a place meant. When he says 'Dead sure,' he clenches a belief which he had already avowed ; he does not express his assent to an inscription which he had just read. 6. Those who would have us believe that the two lines are an epitaph are obliged to assume that there are two epitaphs, written in two different characters, one of which the soldier could read, the other he could not — a most improbable hypothesis. Lastly, I remark that, in the .epitaph which the soldier takes in wax, Timon speaks of himself in the first person, whereas in this couplet he speaks of himself in the third. My theory is that Timon spoke the one, the soldier the other. Besides, what object could Timon have in telling us two or three times over in six lines that he was dead ? So far from TIMON OF ATHENS. 853 increasing the length of the epitaph from four lines to six, I would rather reduce it from four to two, and regard two of the four, which are given as the epitaph at the end of the play, as an interpolation. One passage more : in Act V. 4. 62, we read Act v. i. 62. not a man Shall pasa his quarter, or offend the stream Of regular justice in your city's bounds, But shall be remedied to your public laws At heaviest answer. It is an unsound and hasty criticism, which has substituted here for ' remedied ' either ' remitted ' or 'rendered.' The prepositional phrase, 'to your public laws,' may either be construed with ' remedied,' in which case there is nothing more startling than what is commonly called a proegnans locutid, ' he shall be remedied to your public laws ' being equivalent to ' he shall be surrendered to your public laws, and have a remedy applied to him at his heaviest responsibility;' or (and this is the method which I myself prefer, as it is eminently Shakespearian) ' to your public laws ' grammatically follows ' at heaviest answer,' the usual order being inverted (of which I need not produce any examples here), so that we have the perfectly intelligible sentence, 'he shall be remedied at heaviest answer to your public laws.' I have intimated that ' remedied ' is authorized by the Folios; I may further remark that the noun 354 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ' remedy ' is used by Shakespeare on one occasion where a certain one petitions for legal redress. In • All's Well That Ends Well," Act V. 3. 162-164, are the following lines, I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy. ' Eendered,' ' remitted,' would, no doubt, be more in harmony with modern phrasaology, and more pleasing to popular taste, but they are inserted in defiance of Folio authority, and, what is more important still, in contravention of Shakespeare's known usage. Spurious importations they are with more glitter than gold. Such being the case, we have a right to insist that ' remedied ' — apparently the worse, but really the better word — should be restored to the text. JULIUS CJESAE. 355 JULIUS CiESAR. Although we are told that ' Juliiis Caesar ' was more correctly printed than any other play, and may perhaps have been printed from the Original MS. of the author, yet there are not wanting passages in it, where we have to make up our minds, whether the reading of the copies requires to be emended, or only vindicated and explained. Take, for instance, Act i. 2. i64, the following passage from Act I. 2. lines 154, 155, When could they say till now, that talk'd of Eome, That her wide walles encompass'd but one man ? Here some commentators fancy that the printer's accuracy failed him, and that he set down ' walks ' when he should have set down ' walls,"" the confusion having arisen from " talk'd,' a word of similar cadence to ' walks,' occurring in the previous line. It is argued that the latter word is inappropriate, that a disagreeable assonance is produced by it, and that such a word as ' encompass ' is a pretty clear proof that ' walls was the original reading. On a question of euphony, not every ear will hear alike. 356 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. All I can say is, that, if these lines jar, there are scores of jarring lines to be found in Shakespeare. We will grant that ' walls ' would in all probability have been preferred by a prose-writer ; but ' walks,' which is the rarer word, strikes me as of more exquisite fancy, more picturesque and poetical, true topographically, and even more appropriate here, because it admits of a more comprehensive span. For the walls of Eome did not include all the inhabitants of Eome ; there were plenty of habitations outside, as well as inside, the old Servian ramparts ; but the ' circuit of the walks,' (to introduce Milton's signifi- cant phrase, ' Paradise Lost,' 4. 586) — the outlying pleasure-grounds which environed the metropolis — the vast ring of groves and parks and gardens in which the citizens were wont to walk abroad and refresh themselves — these contained within their compass all the inhabitants of Kome, and to insinuate that but one man could be founcl within them, was monstrous, startling, invidious. There is an allusion in this very play to a portion of these • walks ' — those which Caesar bequeathed to the Roman people — Act III. 2. 252, Moreover, he hath left you all hik walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. JULIUS C^SAE. 357 It is a curious coincidence, though I have no wish to magnify its importance, that in ' Titus Andronicus,' where Aaron is speaking of a forest in the neighbourhood of Eome, we ineet with the expression, The forest walks are wide and spacious. ' Walks ' is entitled to the place on the ground that it is supported by the Folios, besides having distinct claims of its own to recommend it. ' Walls ' reads to me poor and tame in comparison with it. Still less reason is there for tampering with the text Act i. 3. 62, in Act I. 3. 62-65 : ^^' But if you would consider the true cause Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, Why old men fools and children calculate — Here we have a succession of sentences without any finite verb appearing — a loose easy offhanded mode of expression, which in poetry; in the drama, in conversation, more particularly in hurried and excited conversation, is extremely natural — the whole wound up with a regularly-formed complete sentence, ' and children calculate.' There is nothing objectionable in this; there is nothing repugnant to Shakespeare's general style and manner ; there is not the least occasion to drop the s of ' fools ' and make 'fool ' a verb, much less resort to an artifice, under cover of which ' old men, fools, and children,' 358 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. is made to pass as a periphrasis for people of all capacities and ages. In the Folios a comma is found after ' old men ; ' whether we omit or insert it, matters not one jot. Acti. 3. 129. ^ little below in the 129th line there is room for diversity of opinion as to what the exact reading should be, though there can be no dissension as to the meaning. The first and second Folios have And the complexion of the eleirient Is Fauors like the work we have in hand, which in the third and fourth Folios is printed ' Is Favours.' This some editors have changed to ' Is favour d,' others to 'In favours' — alterations which, though not considerable, are, in my opinion, both overdone and misdone. Anyhow, I perceive another mode of mending the text, which is so extremely simple, so idiomatic and Shakespearian, and withal, besides being full of spirit, is so near the ductus literarum, that I marvel that it has not been broached by any of the commentators. Following closely, as I am bound to do, the track lof the Folios, I retain ' is,' and ' favours ' also ; all that I assume is that h has been clipped, and that ' his ' was intended, where ' is ' has been inserted, and that * favours ' needs only the interposition of an apostrophe before its final s, in order that it may be, what I doubt not that it was intended to be, equivalent to ' favour is.' The passage JULIUS C^SAR. 359 is now not only sound, but strong. The construction admits of a twofold explanation. In the first place, ' his ' may be regarded as a symbol of the old genitive, in which case the pa-ssage bears a close resemblance to one to which I have already adver- ted in 'Titus Andronicus.' The end of the line was not altogether favourable to the ordinary form of the genitive, or, if it were, the metre of the following line was glad of an extra syllable; accordingly, at the end of the line the simple word 'element' stands, while at the commencement of the following line, by way of complement and compensation, stands the pronoun 'his;' the ordinary and modern form of expression would have been ' the complexion of the element's favour,' instead of which we have the rarer and more archaic form, ' the complexion of the element his favour,' which, odd as it may seem to some, was allowable, was convenient, and was not less forcible. Examples of this form of the genitive I have cited elsewhere; so I need not tire the reader by repeating them here. There is, however, another mode of explaining precisely the same words, which is even more forcible, and, I am inclined to think, more probable. The point to which the speaker wished to draw attention is first stated in general terms and presented singly for contemplation. And the complexion of the element — 360 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Here there is a pause, and here I place a hyphen; next comes a more specific description of what was intended to be indicated, His favour'3 like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and terrible. Two subjects for one verb, the one introductoryand general, the other explanatory and particular. There is no little force in a construction of this sort. It is as if a person, who was about to throw [a weight, were, after lifting it and putting his arm in the proper attitude, to pause for a moment before discharging the projectile, in order to muster up his whole strength for the purpose of giving the heavy body the necessary impetus. A prose-writer might have said 'As for the complexion of the element, its appearance is like the work we have in hand;' but the poet, describing a startling and portentous phenomenon, preferred to use perhaps a startling construction, or at any rate a construction a little out of the common. Act II. 1, 14- A portion of Brutus' soliloquy in Act 11. 1. 14-17 requires a passing notice. The lines are thus pointed in the ' Globe ' Shakespeare : It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ; And that craves wary walking. *Crown him?— that ; — And then, I grant, we put a Sting in him. That at his will he may do danger with. * Crown liim tbat, Ff , JULIUS C^SAB. 361 Now, if the semicolon after ' adder ' is meant to signify that the sentence which follows is a principal, and not a second subordinate adjective sentence, or, in other words, that 'that' before 'craves' is a demonstrative pronoun referring to "adder' rather than a relative pronoun referring to 'day,' I do not hesitate to say that the semicolon is wrong. Equally objectionable is the note of interrogation after •Crown him:' in the parallel which is drawn between a known physical phenomenon and a possible political contingency, the former is stated affirmatively, the latter hypothetically. The best sign to mark the pause which the speaker makes after ' Crown him ' is a hyphen. After ' that ' at the end of the line are a semicolon and a hyphen, which would lead us to suppose that the words to be supplied are ' craves wary walking:' nothing would be more incorrect. ' That,' which is tantamount to a repetition of ' Crown him,' and is full of Kepublican animus, is in close connexion with the line that follows, and should be separated from it only by a comma — ' Crown him ' — do 'that,' allow that, grant that, 'and then actum est de repuhlica. We have precisely the same phraseology, save that the verb is expressed, and the same punctuation, in Act III. 1. 103 ; Grant that, and then is death a benefit. I have now to call attention to a passage in Actiii.i.i74. Act in. 1. 174, where a spiteful word^ occurring in 362 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. a speech addressed by Brutus to Antony which was meant to be of a concihatory character, is so im- politic and ill-timed that we eye it as we might a snake insidiously nestled in a bed of flowers. Antony, beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act. You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done : Our hearts you see not ; they are pitiful ; And pity to the general wrong of Eome — As fire drives out fire, so pity pity — Hath done this deed on Ctesar. For your part. To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony : Our arms, in strength of malice, and bur hearts Of brothers' temper, do receive you in With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence, Some more euphemistic word than ' malice ' we certainly should have looked for on such an occasion ; yet ' malice ' is the plain undoubted word of the Folios, and we have no right to oust it, until we have exhausted every effort to give it an intelligible meaning. Now I have bracketed two sets of lines, containing four each, because I observe that Brutus' words, Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts Of brothers' temper, which occur at the end of the speech, do but repeat in a short and summary way what had already been JULIUS C^SAR. 363 expressed more at length in the commencement of it, * our arms in strength of malice' bearing a general resemblance to the first set in which the murderous look and bloody hands are described, • our hearts of brothers' temper ' being equivalent to what in the second set is stated, and being, in fact, almost identical with it. If this is so, the coincidence is too significant to be altogether ovei'looked. They who offer to receive Antony in are the very persons who had just been described, and, if the same, then the combination of the foul and the /air, of ' arms in strength of malice ' and ' hearts of brothers' temper,' are set in the scales to balance each other, and to substitute 'justice,' or ' amity,' or ' allies,' or aught else, for that ill-natured word ' malice,' would be to disturb the equipoise. And here it will be well to remark that ' malice ' is sometimes used in rather a peculiar sense by Shakespeare, as I think may be seen from the following quotations, 'King John,' Act II. 1. 251, 252, Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven ; ' King John,' Act II. 1. 379, 380, both conjointly bend Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town ; ' Antony and Cleopatra,' Act III. 13. 178, I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously. 364 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. In all these passages, although mischief is intended, the mischief is regarded with complacent satis- faction. Certainly Brutus was not dissatisfied with their deed of malice, nor yet with the strength, nor yet with the success of it. . It is not at all impossible, then, that by the words, ' in strength of malice,' he was referring, as indeed some think he was, and as the context seems to indicate, to the deed which they had just done ; he did not apologize for it, he avowed it, he gloried in it — he and all they who were with him ,- and, if by such Antony was willing to be received in (for they did not require his support), su£h as they were, they would receive him. As an equal, not as a suppliant, not as an apologist, the would-be liberator speaks. If, however, ' malice ' does not bear this particular reference, I can only suppose that Brutus is making a sort of manifesto to Antony of the principles of his party ; they had a strong arm for their foes, a warm heart for their friends ; they could fight like devils, and at the same time love like brothers. Such was their inotto. In offering to fraternize on these terms, Brutus would be speaking no strange language to Antony. Such principles were at the bottom of all the political clubs and associations of antiquity. Act m. 1. I pass on to the 206th line, 206, Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe, where, ii' lethe' were the word written by Shakespeare, JULIUS CiESAE. 365 it must bear the same relation to 'lethum,' that ' antres,' a word used in another of his plays, does to ' antrum ;' but it is such a stranger to us and is so easily altered, that we can hardly wonder at Pope's wishing to strike it out and put ' death ' in its place. I am not ignorant that it was the practice of some writers to intersprinkle occasionally their native English with uncouth words of an antique and foreign tongue, and there is no lack of Laiinisms in ' Julius Ceesar ;' but I am prepared to account for, aye, and to justify, the use of this word here in another way. I believe it was used neither accidentally nor affectedly, but of set purpose, and as most pertinent. In a passage of high tragedy, of uncommon passion, full of grief and woe, where a colossal man is described as having fallen, not in a foreign land by the sword of a savage foe, but in the heart of his own city by the secret daggers of citizens and friends, the poet willed to use, not the ordinary wotd applied to those who in the course of nature peacefully or painfully expire, but a distinct, an exceptional word — one, which, though strange and singular, is yet classic in its origin, and might have been used by a Roman poet when telling of a hero's — a patriot's murderous extinction — a word which closes the description with dignity, with feeling, and with force. The oftener I read it, the more I become reconciled to it, and I am not now in the least disposed to question the genuineness of Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy letfie. 366 HAEB KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act III. 1. And why, a little below in the 262nd line, should any take exception to the form of the curse ? A curse shall light upon the limbs of men. Such an imprecation, even when taken by itself, is not an impossible one, but, standing where it does, it is fitly placed, and, what is more, cannot be bettered. The curse is represented as a gradually progressive one ; its progress is traced with undevia- ting precision. It begins with a single man and a single member — ' the hand that shed this costly blood ;' — and spreads to many men and many members ; it next invades, with increasing energy, houses and cities, and finally possesses itself of .the whole land. In ' King Kichard III ' Lady Anne invokes a curse on the hands, the heart, the blofod of the murderer of her husband and of her husband's father. There is no reason whatever why the line should have been marked as corrupt. Take the curse as a whole from first to last, it was full enough, and deep enough, and diffusive and extensive enough, to satisfy even an Antony. Act IV. 1. I must now say a word on Act IV. 1. 36-39, where ^^'^^' Antony, giving his opinion of Lepidus' character, says that he is One that feeds On objects, arts, and imitations, Which, out of use, and staled by other men. Begin bis fashion. JULIUS CiESAB. 367 ' Objects, arts ' has been condemned by many, and made to give way to Theobald's ingenious conjecture, 'abject orts,' or to Mr. Staunton's variation of it, ' abjects, orts.' Notwithstanding its glitter, the new coin is not so good as the old. Such words as ' objects, arts ' seem to me to be more naturally coupled with 'imitations,' than words bearing a totally different meaning. I am not sure, though possibly here I am hypercritical, that ' cast away and broken fragments ' — I use the dommentator's own words— that ' things which had been abandoned as useless ' could properly be said to have been in use at all. It may be said that the relative clause does not refer to ' abject, orts,' but only to ' imitations.' Mr. Knight, however, thought otherwise, and on that very ground rested his defence of the reading of the copies. It has been asked, Whatds the meaning of ' objects, arts ?' It may be answered that words like these admit of a great variety of meanings. "What does Troilus mean, when he speaks of the Grecian youths ' flowing over with arts and exercise ?' Or what is meant, when it is said — Ulysses is the speaker — that Hector ' subscribes to tender objects ?' Or what in ' Love's Labour's Losi^,' when Holofernes says This is a gift I have, simple, simple, a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions ? For my part, I think that Shakespeare had large 368 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. truths in his mind here, and distinguished two classes of pohticians. Just as Bacon tells us, that in philosophy there were some who thought that ' the dignity of the human mind was lowered by long and frequent intercourse with experiments and particu- lars, which are the objects of sense and confined to matter,' and, in another place, that 'reverence of antiquity, and the authority of men who have been esteemed great in philosophy, and general unanimity, have retarded men from advancing,' and yet again he speaks of those who ' seek nothing beyond that which is handed down to them as perfect;' so in policy there are two great divisions, sets, factions, parties — these depending a little too much on the sight of their eyes, on the material and visible ; on arts, rules, methods, mechanical contrivances ; on imitations, patterns, precedents — the others, men of original ideas, creative geniuses, brilliant in resource, always abreast of the revolutionary movement, and never suffering themselves to be outmatched, by more cautious competitors— and the former Class are despised by, and are often made the tools and dupes of, the latter. Now to the former class Lepidus belonged ; to the latter Csesar. Viewed in this light, ' objects,' 'arts,' are words full of significance, and would be ill exchanged for ' abjects,' ' orts,' ingenious as that conjecture is. Act IV. 2. And here an admirable note of Professor Craik 49-51 on Act IV. 2. quoted by Mr. Aldis Wright, is well JULIUS OiESAK. 369 worthy of insertion : * It is strange that no one should have been struck with the absurdity of such an association as Lucius and Titinius for the guarding of the door. An officer of rank and a servant boy — the boy, too, being named first. The function of Lucius was to carry messages. As Cassius sends his servant Pindarus with a message to his division of the force, Brutus sends his servant Lucius with a similar message to his division.' The Professor, therefore, substitutes ' Lucius ' for ' Lucilius ' in the 49th line, and two lines below reads ' Lucilius ' for ' Let Lucius,' — a better sorting of the characters, no doubt. Yet the Cambridge editors ' have not adopted ' the alteration, 'because they are of opinion that the error, such as it is, is due to the author, and not to a transcriber.' Before I conclude, I will briefly observe that in a^ ^v. Act V. 1. 34, 35, where a smart interchange of civilities passes between Cassius and Antony, Antony's retort admits of being presented either in an interrogative or in an affirmative form. The . latter is the usual mode of arrangement : I incline to the former : Cassius. But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless. Antony. Not stinglesa too ? And so I have since discovered that Delius punctuates. 370 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. MACBETH. The editors of the 'Cambridge' Shakespeare inform ns that ' Macbeth ' was one of the worst printed of all the plays. Pdssibly their knowledge of this circumstance may ha've made them a little over- suspicions in their examination of it. Anyhow, they have marked passages in it as corrupt, which, in my opinion, hardly deserve the stigma. Act 1. 2. 14. As early as in Act I. 2. 14 the scuffle between the critics commences. Should we read ' quarrel,' which is the word found in Holinshed's Chronicle, from which Shakespeare fetched much of his history and sometimes also some of his phraseology? or should we rather read 'quarry,' which is set down in every impression of the Folio ? The judges are divided ; the scales of the balance are pretty evenly poised. ' Quarrel ' being a word of frequent oc- currence in Shakespeare, those who would force it into the text against the authority of the Folios may fairly be expected to show, that elsewhere than heer, either in the Quartos or in th^ Folios, ' quarry ' is at 23. MACBETH. 371 times printed, where 'quarrel' is undoubtedly intended. Till then, as ' quarry ' admits of being explained, I prefer with Mr. Knight to retain the reading of the copies. A little further on we come to the lines. Act i. 2. For brave Macbeth— well he deserves that name- Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave ; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps. And fix'd his head upon our battlements. We are told that there is 'incurable corruption' here. I cannot for the life of me see it. A short line, beginning with an anapsest, is surely not in Shakespeare a metrical impossibility. Such frag- ments of verse sometimes occur, where a crisis is reached in the action, and we pause for a moment, expecting the catastrophe. As for the second 'which,' it has been suggested that, if we could make it, like the first, refer to the ' brandished steel,' we should have a picturesque expression thoroughly Shakespearian ; for my own part, I prefer to refer it to Macbeth, whose name heads the sentence and whose prowess pervades it ; that it does not refer to Macdonwald, I am as certain as that. the two names begin with the same capital letter. 372 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABB, Act 1. 2. 49. In the 49th line it has been asksd why 'flout' and ' fan ' are in the present, while the rest of the verbs are in the preterite tense ; and in a roundabout way it has been attempted to show that the flouting fanning banners were not the haughty ensigns of a yet unconquered foe, but the captured standards of a beaten army, at that very moment flapping idly, and cooling the conquerors in the camp of Macbeth ! Nothing is more improbable. ' Flout ' and * fan ' are simply historic presents, just as in the ' Tempest,' Act I. 2. 201-206, Ariel mixes up present tenses with past, where he gives us his most vivid touches ; Jove's lightnings, the precursors 0' the dreadful thunder-claps, paore momentary And sight-outrunning were ndt ; the fire and cracks Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune Saem to besiege. Enobarbus does the same in • Antony and Cleopatra,' Act II. 2. 210, where we have as it were in the present a panorama of the past. Cf. also ' Ooriolanus,' Act III. 3. 126, 127. Act 1. 2. 58. In the lines that follow, Duncan's brief exclama- tion, 'Great happiness,' hardly interrupts at all the continuity of Ross' narrative. With what propriety, then, is a full stop placed after 'victory fell on us,' and a capital letter given to ' That ? ' Yet, in spite of stops and capitals, it is hardly possible to mistake the meaning. MACBETH. 373 In the next Scene— Act I. 3. 95-98 — where Ross, Act 1.3, 95-98. delivering the king's message to Macbeth, says He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale Can post with post, there are some who are displeased with 'thick as tale,' the phrase of the Folios, because they cannot find any similar expression in any other part of Shakespeare. But how many words and phrases are they forced to tolerate in almost every play, of which no second example can be produced! Time and the fierce rays of a searching criticism will dissipate their 'hail;' 'thick as tale' will surely hold its ground ; but, whether it should be Connected with the words that precede, or with the words that follow — whether the images of death were too thick to be counted, or the posts were — th^t has been questioned. Rhythm and sense favour the latter; perhaps, too, the line from '2 Henry VI,' Act III. 1. 337, Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought, and 'Antony and Cleopatra,' Act I. 5. '61-63, Chop. Met'st thou my posts'^ Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers ; Why do you send so thich ? It has been assumed that 'can' was intended for 'came;' perhaps it was; yet 'ran' would be as near the original, and might not inaptly be applied to 374 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. military couriers. We have authority for the latter word in '3 Henry VI,' Act II. 1. 109, Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run. The letter c not unfrequently usurps the place of the letter r. Act I. 5. 23- I now come to a passage where we can with diffi- culty see our way for the volumes of smoke which issue forth from the workshops of the annotators. I refer to Act I. 5. 28-26, Thou'ldst have, great Glamis, That which cries ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.' The inverted commas were first placed by Pope, and they are found in the ' Globe ' and in other editions of Shakespeare ; nevertheless, Capell was right when he printed in italics onhj the words, ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it.' The passage is a very labyrinth of intricacies, yet so confident am I that I have the thread to guide me through it, that I implore the reader not to be deterred by my twistings and turnings from following me right through to the end. Now observe : in Lady Macbeth's reflections on Macbeth' s character we have a triplet of well- balanced antitheses : Macbeth's wish is represented MACBETH. 375 as conflicting with Macbeth's wish. First in order comes What thou wouMst highly, That wOTildst thou holily. Next Wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thirdly and lastly we shall certainly find mention. of a similar contrast between two opposite desires, warring within him for supremacy, and pulling him in contrary directions. What, as a matter of fact, have we ? First this, thou'ldst have, great Glamis, That which cries, ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it.' What next, to counter- work this ? We might expect some such statement as this. And thou wouldst have that which cries, 'This thou must leave undone,' or, in other words, ' This thou must not do.' But Shakespeare, instead of making Lady Macbeth continue her words in the direct form of speech, makes her rather continue in the oblique or indirect form (nor is the form otherwise than appropriate, where Macbeth's indirection is the theme) ; and, if she had expressed herself in this indirect form simply, by which I mean, without any other idea crossing her mind, she would have said And thou wouldst have that which thou wouldst should be undone, i.e., not done, 376 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. which would be tantamount to saying that Macbeth would fain grasp the prize without incurring the guilt and danger of getting it. But Lady Macbeth does not express herself thus simply and unre- servedly, but, having a keen insight into her lord's character, she qualifies the statement by the bitter parenthetical reflection. That which [rather thou dost fear to do than] wishest should be undone. She was not afraid that Macbeth lacked the wish to do the damned deed, she doubted and feared his courage. Exactly what she thought, she expressed. If her anatomical description of his character is dark, difficult, devious, it is because the character itself was so full of contrariety. Act 11. 1. 26. I pass on now to the second Act, in the first Scene of which, at the 25th line, where Macbeth says to Banquo, If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It shall make honour for you, ' consent,' though suffered to remain by editors, has been looked upon with suspicion and dislike. Capell, Malone, Grant White, conjecture severally ' ascent,' ' content,' ' consort ;' yet, as there is no variation in the Folios, and as the very same word is used very similarly in ' 1 Henry YI,' Act I. 2. 44, By my consent, we'U even let them alone, MACBETH. 377 we may be pretty sure that ' consent ' has a right to its place. I paraphrase the passage as follows : • If you shall steadfastly pursue that line of conduct which has my sympathy and support, and to which I am a deliberately consenting party, when, according to the prediction of the witches, I am king ' — for that, I take it, is what he means by his short significant ' it ' — ' your having sided with me shall lead to your promotion and honour.' Others, however, refer ' it ' to the proposed interview. A little farther down there is another word — I Act ii. i. ss. mean ' sides ' in Act II. 1. 55 — which has not merely been suspected, but has with singular unanimity been ousted from the text, although critics have not been able to agree among themselves as to the word that should take its place. * Slides,' a verb, and * strides,' a noun, have been nominated by rival parties. We may admit that ' sides ' is not just the word that a modern dramatist would have thought of, or a modern critic expected ; yet somehow or other it crops up in Shakespeare in places where we do not look for it, and in a manner which, to say the least, is at times peculiar. Nor is this the only passage, where its genuineness has been suspected, and efforts have been made to extrude it from the text. I will group together a few of the passages where it occurs, by way of accustoming the reader to it, and illustrating its use. 378 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKE SPE ABE. ' Twelfth Night,' Act II. 4. 96, There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion. ' King Henry VIII.' Act I. 2. 28, Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, where Mr. Collier would have modernized the text by reading ' ties of loyalty :' ' King Lear,' Act II. 4. 200, sides, you are too tough ; ' Antony and Cleopatra,' Act II, 7. 118, 119, The holding every man shall bear as loud As his strong sides can volley. ' Antony and Cleopatra ' again, Act IV. 14. 39-41, cleave, my sides ! Heart, once be stronger than thy continent. Crack thy frail case I and again The sides of nature Will not sustain it. Now let it be distinctly understood that I do not cite these passages under the idea that any one of them is an exact exemplar of Tarquin's case, but merely for the purpose of illustrating Shakespeare's occasional use of the word. What I gather from them, however, is that ' sides ' is frequently used MACBETH. 379 where strong lusts and passions are referred to, which they are said to encase, contain, be beaten by, and the Hke. Now is it so very improbable that murder's ' sides ' should be glanced at in ' Macbeth ' in connexion with murder's monstrous lusts ? His look, manner, movement, are depicted by the epithet ' withered,' by the ' stealthy pace,' by the ' ghostlike move ;' his outrageous desires, and his strength to execute those desires, may be implied in the phrase ' Tarquin's ravishing sides.' While pourtraying him, as he is seen outwardly, the poet forgets not to point also to his heart. I am strongly of opinion, then, that Shakespeare wrote, Wither'd murder, Alarmn'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing sides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. We may now read on till we come to the lines — Act iii. Act III. 1. 128-131- '''■'''• Within this hour at most I will advise you where to plant yourselves. Acquaint you with thejierfect spy o' the time, The moment on't. The words I have italicized have occasioned some smart skirmishing, and, at the risk of bruises, I will fling myself into the fray. 'Spy' I take to be not a concrete, but an abstract noun ; it is true that I 880 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. cannot produce any instance of its being used in such a sense by Shakespeare, but is it, I again ask, either necessary or possible to find second examples of all that Shakespeare peculiarly uses ? The nearest parallel that I can think of at this moment is the popular expression, ' let me have a spy at it,' and popular expressions may fairly be referred to, to corroborate dramatic phraseology. The phrase ' o' the time' I connect, not (as do most) with 'spy,' but with the verb ' acquaint,' just as in ' The Winter's Tale,' Act II. 2. 48, we have Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer. ' Perfect ' I believe to be a mistake for ' perfect'st,' having been docked of its last two letters from their so nearly resembling the first two letters of ' spy / which immediately follows : the same word, superlative and all, occurs in another part of this same play. Macbeth promises them that he will advise them as to the exact time and place after a thorough reconnaisance made. Act III. 4. 32. Our next question is, how shall we understand — for that too is questioned — the compound pronoun ' ourselves ' in Act III. 4. 32, where Macbeth says to the murderer Get thee gone ; to-morrow We'll hear ourselves again. MACBETH. 381 A number of interpretations have been given, none of which seems to me to be right. I beHeve that • ourselves ' in this place is equivalent to ' by ourselves,' Macbeth naturally shrinking from con- versing on such a subject with such a man, when there were so many to see and hear them. A little word occurs in Act III. 4. 105, too, in Act iii.i.ios. Macbeth's challenge to Banquo's ghbst, which has caused no little difference of opinion. ' Be alive again,' says Macbeth, And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; If trembling 1 inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. The emendations which have been proposed for this passage are as startling for their number, as they are amusing for their variety. If trembliag I unknight me, If trembling I inherit ; If trembling I inhibit, If trembHng me inhibit, If trembling I inhibit then, Fantastic all of them ! ' Inhabit ' which is the word of the copies, we may be pretty sure, was the word also in Shakespeare's MS. It is used somewhat peculiarly at times in Shakespeare, though, of course, most poetically, e.g., in ' King John,' Act IV. 2. 106-107, where is that blood That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks ? 382 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ' King Kichard III,' Act I. 4. 3, and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit. In both these passages the place of habitation is specified ; but, though this is not the case in ' Macbeth,' there cannot be a doubt what the place of habitation is ; it is the fleshly tabernacle in which the living individuality, the 'I' dwells. And it seems to me that there is no little force in one, who is yet a sojourner in the flesh, using the term ' inhabit,' when accosting one who had ceased to tenant a house of clay. Macbeth trembles, because he, a flesh-and-blood being, was, so to speak, too heavily handicapped to be matched against a shadowy antag- onist ; but let that shadowy spectre be circummured again by a fleshly habitation, and Macbeth will not then decline the equal encounter. Act ni.4.132. A little matter of punctuation, which I shall next mention, will only slightly affect the meaning of the passage I shall quote. If, as I am inclined to think, the words, ' I will to morrow,' in Act III. 4. 132, are a reiteration by Macbeth pi his determination to send, as indicated by him in the 130th line, rather than an expression of his determination to go to the MACBETH. 383 weird sisters, as indicated in the line that follows, the passage will have to be pointed thus, I hear it by the way ; but I will send — There's not a one of them but in his house I keep a servant fee'd — I will to morrow ; And betimes I will to the weird sisters ; or, instead of being placed between two hyphens, the words may be thrown into a parenthesis. We now come to the 4th Act, in the 2nd Scene of Act iv. 2. is. which, beginning at the 18th line, we read But cruel are the times, when we are traitors And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour From what we fear, yet know not what we fear. But float upon a wild and violent sea Each way and move. The last words have been twisted and turned in almost every imaginable way : Each way and wave ; And move each way ; Each way, and move ; And each way move ; Which way we move ; Each way and none ; the last proposed with confidence, and charmingly ingenious. I will add one more to this heap of uncertainties ; ' each sway and move ' shall take its chance with the rest, suggested to me by a passage in ' King John,' Act II. 1. 578, where occurs the expression, ' This sway of motion.' But what am I about ? Is it necessary that there should be any alteration at all ? ' Way ' indicates the direction, 384 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. • move ' the progress made in that direction. In whichever direction they go, to or back, this ivay or that, — however much or little they move — no rest, no peace, but like men they are who float on a wild and violent sea. Such seems a rational and sufficient explanation of a phrase, which has been a sea of trouble to expositors. Act IV. 3. 15. I should not have dreamt of making any comment on Act IV. 3. 15, if it had not been stated on high authority, ' there is certainly some corruption here ;' and emendations have actually been contemplated, where no emendation should =be so much as listened to. But something You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb To appease an angry God. I do not, of course, question here Theobald's emendation ' deserve,' I merely refer to the isolation of ' wisdom,' which is observable, but should be no cause of offence. The substantive verb has to be supplied. Elsewhere Shakespeare uses the full expression, ''tis wisdom;' here the more laconic form was preferred by him, and such pithy off-hand utterances are permitted in common conversation, and consequently in the drama. Let those who doubt ponder such passages as ' Winter's Tale,' Act IV. 4. 417, MACBETH. 385 Reason my son Should choose himself a wife, but aa good reason The father should hold some counsel lu such a business ; ' Cymbeline/ Act I. 1. 60, To this hour no guess in knowledge Which way they went ; ' Titus Andronicus,' Act II. 3. 81, And, being intercepted in your sport, Great reason that my noble lord be rated. Shakespeare here is his own sufficient witness. It is just possible that, up to this point of the play, Act iv. 3. I may, upon the whole, have carried the indulgent ^^^' ^^^' critic with me ; at any rate, I have felt as one, who, in fording a stream, has been able to keep touch with the bottom ; but I am now coming to a part where I am not sure that I may'noi be out of my depth, and, though I shall try to swim, I may sink. There is a dark and profound passage in the latter part of one of Malcolm's speeches — Act IV. 3. 136, 137 — which runs as follows : Now we'll together, and let the chance of goodness Be like our warranted quarrel. The Cambridge editors say, ' The meaning seems to be, ' May the chance of success be as certain as the justice of our quarrel.' The sense of the word ' goodness ' is limited by the preceding ' chance.' 386 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Without this, ' goodness ' by itself could not have this meaning.' It seems to me that the sentence, ' the chance of goodness is Kke our warranted quarrel,' is one in which we have a notable example of prcegnans locutio. The very conciseness of the expression hinders us ■from at once apprehending the meaning of it. Nor should we see it at all, unless we carried in our minds the substance and pith of the whole passage of which the words quoted form but a part. Malcolm had represented himself to Macduff "as so irredeem- ably bad, that the latter was obliged to acknowledge that he could have nothing more to do with him. Upon this, Malcolm unsays the slander which he had uttered against himself, and avers that he is in reality as good as a moment before he had represented himself as bad. His concluding words I thus para- phrase : * Now we'll together, and let the chance of my being — what in very truth I -am — a well-doer, be as strong an inducement to our being friendly, as the chance of my being — had I been what I just now falsely represented myself as being — an evil-doer, would have led to our most justifiably quarrelling.' Or, briefly, though somewhat freely, thus: 'Be as ready to be a friend to me now you know I am good, m you were prepared to be an enenly to me when you imagined that I was evil.' Here pausing, and not receiving from Macduff the assurance which he had MACBETH. 387 expected, he asks, 'Why are you silent? The latter replies Such welcome and unwelcome things at once 'Tis hard to reconcile. Here a doctor enters, and puts an end for the time to the conversation. I have come at last to the fifth Act, in the 3rd Act v. 3. 21. Scene of which, in the 21st line, there is much uncertainty as to the reading. The first Folio has This push Will cheer me ever, or dis-eate me now. The second Folio, instead of 'dis-eate,' has 'disease;' but, as the second Folio was merely copied from the first, this correction is merely a copyist's conjecture, and cannot be looked upon as in any sense authoritative; in fact, it has no more claim to be considered than any other emendation which may happen to be started. It may be entitled, however, to as much, and we are bound to examine it on its merits. It has been objected that it supplies too feeble an antithesis to 'cheer.' The validity of this objection will depend on the sense or senses which it was capable of bearing. There cannot be a question that ' disease ' had formerly a fuller and more comprehensive signification than it is wont to have now : it meant discomfort and inconvenience 388 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE, in general, and not merely bodily disorder. In both senses Shakespeare uses it. To illustrate the former meaning of it, I may cite '1 Henry VI,' Act II. 5.44, And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease. Here Eichard, who is the speaker, is going to explain the reason why he was so downhearted and disconsolate. Some one had cast it in his teeth, that his father had been beheaded. Such a taunt must have touched him to the q.uick. To use an expressive colloquialism, it must have quite upset him. We should not have supposed that, in reference to such a cause of disquietude, Shakespeare would have put into his mouth a word of feehle import; yet, whether feeble or not, 'disease' is the word. The next passage which I shall quote for illustra- tion's sake is from 'Coriolanus,' where Volumnia says She will but disease our better mirth. I will not say that ' disease ' is used here in a very strong sense; what, however, is noticeable and pertinent, is, that it stands in contradistinction to mirth. The third passage, which I shall bring forward, is chiefly remarkable, because an effort has been made in it to substitute some other word for MACBETH. 389 'disease,' on the very ground that 'disease' has not a sufficiently strong meaning. Mr. Aldis Wright in his note on 'King Lear,' Act I. 1. 160, tells us, that, whercj^the first and second Quartos read 'diseases,' the Folios have the stronger word 'disasters.' Now it is not at all probable that the copyist introduced 'diseases' into the Quartos; it is much more likely that he found it in the author's MS. 'Disasters' was in all likelihood afterwards inserted in the Folios, under the mistaken notion that the word of the Quartos was not sufficiently strong. Upon the whole, then, we are warranted in saying that 'disease,' as it was understood in Shakespeare's day, was strong enough to be opposed to such words as 'ease,' 'mirth,' 'cheer.' If, however, it be admitted that, according to Shakespearian usage, ' cheer ' and ' disease ' may stand in contradistinction to each other, but that ' cheer ' does not more forcibly represent the favourable, than ' disease ' does the unfavourable contingency — in fact, that neither word seems equal to the occasion, for argument's sake I will not dispute it, and, in order to meet this new mode of attack, I will fall back upon what are called eu- phemistic expressions, which are not wanting in this play ; thus, ' taking off' is equivalent to - killing,' 'going off' to 'dying;' and -similarly 'cheer' may be a modest way of expressing victory and 390 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. sovereignty, ' disease ' expressing defeat, disgrace, and death. Capell proposed Will cheer me ever, or dissecet me now; Dyce adopted Bishop Percy's clever conjecture, Well chair me ever, or disseat me now. I will add one of my own, for the value of which I will not vouch. Will cheer me ever, or dishedrt me now. 'Unheart' is used in ' Coriolanus.' 'Disheart!' cries a critic jocularly ; 'disembowel' would be more to the purpose. But, the heart gone, the bowels would soon follow. Macbeth would be more likely to understate than to overstate the dread alternative. Act V. 4. 11. I have now reached my last station, where, however, we shall have to be detained for a while ; impatiently we ask, what's the matter, and we learn that the 11th line of Act V. 4, For where there is advantage to be given, Both more and less have given him the revolt, is out of order, and must needs be repaired. The authorities are in a fluster ; no one seems to know what had best be done. It is not the meaning which causes this disquietude ; it is the phraseology which they consider unsound and untrustworthy. MACBETH. 891 The most objectionable word seems to be 'given,' for which it has been proposed to put ' gone,' ' got,' ' gotten,' ' taken,' ' ta'en ;' yet the Cambridge editors appear to be under the impression that the weak part of the Hne is in the phrase 'lis to be ;' for they suggest that perhaps the first line should stand thus. For where there is advantage given to flee, or, For where there is advantage to 'em given. They commence their note, however, with the remark, that the passage, as it stands, is not capable of any satisfactory explanation. Let me take it to pieces, and see whether there is really anything amiss with it. I presume that no one will question that ' advantage ' may be used in the sense of an ' advantageous opening,' ' a favourable opportunity,* ' a good chance,' to use a common but expressive phrase. Thus we have in ' Othello,' Act I. 3. 298, And bring them after in the best advantage ; ' Othello ' again. Act II. 1. 247, A sUpper and subtle knave, a finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself f ' 2 Henry VI,' Act I. 1. 242, And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown ; ' King Lear,' Act II. 1. 24, You have now the good advantage of the night ; 392 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. ' Troilus and Cressida,' Act III. 8. 2, The advantage of the time prompts me aloud To call for recompense. Well now, cannot the phrase, ' is to be given,' mean ' is capable of being given,' or, ' can possibly be given ?' Undoubtedly it can. Here are examples: ' Othello,' Act I. 2. 45, When, being not at your lodging to be found ; ' Winter's Tale, Act V. 1. 101, She had not been, Nor was not to be equall'd. But this use of the Gerundive participle will hardly be disputed. May we not write, then, ' an advantage is given ' in the sense of ' a favourable occasion is offered ? ' In the passage above quoted from ' Othello ' we have the words, 'the advantage presents itself,' which, passively expressed, would be ' is presented.'' And what difference between 'an advantage is presented,' :and ' an advantage is given ? ' Given by whom ? am I asked. Given by a favouring fortune; given by negligent guards ; given by the nature of the place. "If now ' an advantage is given ' is admissible, ' an advantage is to he given ' is equally so, and the meaning of the lines will be, 'where there is a possibility of a favourable opportunity [of deserting] MACBETH. "" 393 being presented or given, men of all ranks revolt from him.' Call it what English you like, old English, or colloquial English, or Shakespearian English, good sound English I am positive that it is. And now. Sirs, we have come to our journey's end. 394 HARD KNt)TS IN SHAKESPEAEE. HAMLET. I shall not undertake — I do not profess to be able — to deal with all the doubtful and difficult passages in ' Hamlet,' which yet require elucidation ; I shall confine myself to the more modest and feasible task of throwing a few rays of light on three or four dark corners, which others, aiming at a more diffusive illumination, have in my opinion left in comparative Act 1. 1. 113- obscurity. There is a passag"e, for instance, begin- ^^^' ing at the 113th line of Act I. Scene 1, the main drift of which is clear enough, and the several parts taken separately are perfectly intelligible; but the construction of the sentence, as a whole, seems loose and disjointed, and the connecting particles are irreg- ular, and to all appearances inadequate. We must acknowledge that there is sorpe ground here for the suspicion entertained by compientators, that the text has suffered mutilation, or even that a line has fallen out. Yet I cannot consent to abandon the vantage-ground of the copiea, until I have satisfied myself that it is quite untenable. I will examine, therefore, the parts which are alleged to be weak and HAMLET. 395 defenceless, and try whether they may not be ex- plained, if not in accordance with the general rules of grammar, yet agreeably to those occasional deviations from them, with which scholars are perfectly familiar. The circumstances may be thus briefly stated : the sight of the ghost of the murdered king leads Horatio to remark that such spectral apparitions usually foreshadow political and social disturbance. An eminent example of this he cites from a page of Roman history : In the most high and palmy state of Eome, A httle ere the mightiest Juhus fell, The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Eoman streets. To put a comma at the end of these lines, as if the speaker had something more to say on the particular subject of the ghost-parallel, or tp leave a vacant space, and fill it up with a number of asterisks, as an indication that something has been probably omitted, is not only not necessary^ it is objectionable it is wrong. The parallel, which is commenced in the above lines, is also completed and concluded by them. A full stop, or at least a colon, should mark the termination of a period. There is a pause, and the pause heightens the effect of an exceedingly striking picture. But, after drawing a comparison between the Cesarean age and his own in respect of 396 HAED KNOTS IN SHAEESPEAEE. the particular phenomenon of the ghostly apparition, Horatio pursues the train of thou.ght, and carries the parallel further still, showing that there was also a general resemblance between the two periods in respect of other signs and wonders ; it was not merely that the earth had cast forth her dead, but the heavens also spoke a language ominous and fearful. There were warnings celestial as well as warnings terrestrial. ' As in the time gone by there were ' — but the poet omits the finite verb, which a prose-writer would be careful to express — ' stars with trains of fire and dews of blood ; as there -were disasters in "the sun,' — here again the finite verb is wanting — ' and as the moon was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse, even so ' — but for this conventional conjunc- tion the poet substitutes, perhaps has a reason for substituting, the less usual, unlooked for, and even startling combination, ' and even '-^' even so not the earth only, but heaven, as well as €arth, has demon- strated to our climate and countrymen the coming on of fearful changes.' There is no doubt some confusion here — con- fusion, not corruption. It is even possible that Shakespeare intended, by the chaotic sentence with its finite verb suppressed and its heterogeneous conjunction introduced, to impress the confusion of the times, or perhaps rather the mental agitation HAMLET. 397 of the speaker. But, even if it be objected that, with the exception of these two lines, there seems nothing chaotic in the passage, nor does the speaker seem much agitated, still I contend that such literary irregularities need .not be incredi- ble—are quite tolerable. In classical literature they are called anacolutha; but, call them what you will, they now and then may be found lying in our way without really and seriously obstructing our progress; they arrest the attention without baflaing the understanding; there is a good deal of rough vigour about them ; they are as it were extemporaneous effusions : left in their natural state, and not worked up afterwards and polished ; if they are not a master's way of pourtraying, as only a master can, the terror felt and the confusion appre- hended. On the principle that we should always stick to Act i. 3. 74. the reading of the Quarto or the Fdlio, wherever we can do so consistently with the idiom of the English language or with Shakespearian usage, I will venture now to offer a suggestion even for Act I. 3. 74, where Polonius is represented as saying For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station *Are of a most select and generous chief in that. * The second and third Quartos have ' or.' 398 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAKB. The phraseology here is certainly peculiar, and the prolongation of the metre has tempted some to cut the knot by simply omitting 'of a.' But this heroic method of dealing with a difficulty should be resorted to only in an extreme emergency. An article and an adjective, often in the superlative degree, but without any substantive with which to connect them, is not an unprecedented Shakespearian com- bination. We come across such phrases as ' does not talk after the wisest,' ' the ordinary of nature's sale- work,' 'a fever of the mad,' 'in the smallest,' ' with your speediest bring us what she says,' ' I advise you to the best,' to which add ' my false o'erweighs your true ' — all occurring in Shakespeare, and all undoubtedly genuine : as genuine, perhaps, may be the somewhat similar phrase, ' of a most select and generoiis ;' only here the indefinite, and not the definite, article precedes the adjective. A comma, which stands after 'generous ' in the Quarto, seems to indicate that the copyist regarded ' chief ' as an adverb, and not a noun. There is even another explanation possible ; as the nouns, ' rank and station,' follow the superlative adjective in the preceding line, it is left to the reader to supply a noun adapted to the superlative in the line which follows. The nouns of the one line might suggest a noun for the other. But what if ' chief ' itself be the noun we are looking for, used in the HAMLET. 399 sense of primacy, hegemony, lead ? An unwonted, but not surely for Shakespeare an impossible, use of the "word. I own that it seems to me to connect itself more easily and naturally, as a noun, with the superlatives which precede it, than, as an adverb, with the prepositional phrase which follows it. It may be the merest accident, but it is not a little -^-ot i- iv. 36- singular, that, in the next passage which we have to consider, the very same little words, viz., ' of a,' again form the subject of controversy — with this difference, however, that, whereas in that passage they were deemed superfluous, in this they are looked upon as corrupt substitutes for some other word which should take their place ; there the wish was to get rid of them altogether ; here the endeavour is not to excise them, but to effect a favourable exchange. And, if I remember rightly, these are not the only two places, where the same two little words have discomfited the critics. Let us look at them once again in their new connexion in Act I. 4. 36-38, the dram of eale Doth all the noble substance of a doubt To his own scandal ; That ' eale ' is the old form of ' evil ' is as certain as that ' deale ' is frequently found in the Quartos and Folios for ' devil.' As, then, in the latter case editors do not scruple to introduce the mod-ern form into the text, so neither should they in the former. 400 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. But in the prepositional phrase, ' of a doubt,' we have no mere ghost of a difficulty, but a real and substantial one. What are we to ipake of it ? Had the expression been ' doth it all of a doubt," or ' makes it all of a doubt,' we should have thought no more amiss of it, than we do of the well-known conversational phrase, ' I am all of a tremble ;' or, had it been ' doth all the noble substance doubt,' we might have found ample warrant for it in the parallel expressions. To do you rest, Do him disparagement, Do you wrong, Doing me disgrace, Thou hast done good feature shame, all quotations from Shakespeare ; But such a phrase, as ' doth it of a doubt,' can hardly be grouped with these, but stands as it were in a corner by itself. I have thought it possible that Shakespeare, in order to intensify the slur sought to be cast on the character, may have purposely used, instead of the more direct decided and downright phrase, ' doth it doubt,' the partitive limited and more dubitative and insinuative one, ' doth it of a doubt ;' for we know that the suggestion of a little bit of doubt, a whisper, a breath, will often do ten times more to blast and damn the character, than a plainer, fuller, and more sonorous censure. HAMLET. 401 Nor ought we, in weighing possibiHties, to leave out of the balance the item, that Shakespeare is in the habit of inserting prepositions, where we should not think of admitting them. Take, as a specimen, a portion of a line in ' As You Like It,' Act V. 4. 56, I desire you of the like. There are two other instances, where the noun • doubt,' preceded by an article and a preposition, concludes a line ; one occurs in 'The Merchant of Venice,' Act III. 2. 145, still gazing in a doubt ; the other in ' 3 King Henry VI,' Act IV. 7. 27, Why stand you in a doubt ? Thus much, then, in favour of the reading of the Quartos ; if the probabilities are still against that reading, if we must pronounce the phrase, as it stands, to be manifestly corrupt, then decidedly the simplest plan would be to suppose that ' of ' has been docked of its final letter, and is a slip of the pen for ' oft :' in favour of this view I may note by the way that in the 23rd line, and again iij the 28th, ' oft ' is introduced as a modifying adverb;; this would give us the thoroughly Shakespearian line. Doth all the noble substance oft a doubt. Other emendations which have been broached the reader may find elsewhere ; some of the most plaus- ible are ' overdoubt,' ' overcloud,' ' oft adoubt,' ' often 402 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAEE. dout,' ' oft weigh down,' tlie last an ingenious conjecture of Bailey's, suggested probably by a line in ' Timon,' Act V. 1. 154, Than their offence can weigh' down by the dram. But I have said enough of this passage, and I will pass on to Act III. 4. 169, where a gap occurs in the text : And either . , the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency. Act III. 1 Now I do not pretend to Be able to guess what 169 . . the exact word was which originally filled the vacancy. There are many which would serve the turn. ' Eesist ' would have Apostolic, ' renounce ' Patristic authority to back it ; ' rebuke ' would not be without precedent. If, however, we can light upon a verb used by Shakespeare himself, albeit elsewhere, in ike same connexion, it would come to us with a sort of recommendation from the author. Now in ' Twelfth Night,' Act III. 4. 108, Sir Toby says to Malvolio, 'What, man! defy the devil.' In ' Merry Wives of Windsor ' we have ' Now shall the devil be sliam.ed.' The former word would fit in with the metre (for I need scarcely say that ' either ' is frequently treated as a monosyllable), and would give the sense required, or at least a tolerable sense. There would be no harm in introducing defy — italicized, if you like-r-into the text. Yet HAMLET. 403 the original word might have been a totally different one with more force and point. Perhaps, therefore, we should give the preference to 'master,' the word found in the 4th, 5th, and 6th Quartos. In my next piece of criticism I cah hardly hope to Act v. i. command the suffrages and support of a majority of the critics ; yet almost all will agree that some other word than that which we have at present was in all probability in Shakespeare's MS. In that famous Scene, where two clowns in a churchyard rub their rough wits against each other right sparklingly, who will say much for Go, get thee to Yaughan ? I do not doubt that ' Yaughan ' very fairly represents the sound that proceeded from the grave- digger's lips ; but I feel pretty sure that the actual words were either ' the tavern,' or ' the inn ' — probably the former — where the stoup of liquor he wanted only waited for a fetcher. I shall be expected to say something on Act V. 2. Act v. 39-42, and I shall commence with Singer's apt exclamation, ' Think of peace standing as a comma !' We must admit that such a comparison, even when we look at it by itself apart from the context, is in the highest degree improbable ; when, however, we view it in connexion with a passage 404 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. which is adorned with a succession of grand images grandly expressed — when we read it in sequence to such beautiful lines as As England was his faithful tributary, As love between them like the palm might flourish, As peace should still her wheaten garland wear, the improbability, it is hardly too much to say, waxes into an impossibility. It is a step from the sublime to the ridiculous — a fall from a firmament powdered with stars to a realm of mist and Tartarean gloom. ' Comma ' is not the legitimate issue of Shakespeare's genius, but a bastard slip of a copyist, whose eye deceived him, but whose intellectual faculty was not strong enough to correct him. Fortunately in this instance we have not much difficulty in discovering with — I had almost said, certainty the actual word which Shakespeare inserted. Let it be granted — no very extravagant concession — that lu may be somewhat indistinctly written, so as to differ not very much from an m — let it be, granted than an n may easily melt into and be confused with a, and then there is positively no difference whatever between column and comma in respect of form, though in respect of meaning and suitableness to the present passage there is a vast immeasurable distance. ' Peace ' and ' column ' are a natural couple, linked together over and over again by historic associations. The column, or pillar, was set up. as a witness that HAMLET. 405 peace had been formally concluded 5 the names of the parties, the terras of the agreement, were graven upon it ; it stood as a monument and testimony of amicable relations in the past, and a pledge of continued amity in the future. A figure of peace, then, wearing a garland of wheat, standing columnar-like (these are all but the very words of the text) between two friendly powers, if it had not in some part of the world been seen by the author as an architectural or pictorial reality, is at any rate an artistic possibility, and quite worthy to figure in a great poet's airy creation. I commend, therefore, to the cold calm severe scrutinizing eye of the impartial critic, how far ' column ' and * comma ' resemble — how far they differ from each other. The result of that scrutiny, unless I am too sanguine, will be to get rid of such rubbish as 'comma,' to set up again the 'column' that has been displaced, and to restore ' peace,' if not to the members of the Shakespeare Societies, at any rate to the ghost of Shakespeare and to the text. I conclude, as I commenced, with Singer's words, but slightly varied, ' Think of peace standing as a column ! ' With respect to that well-known passage beginning Act v. 2. m- at the 117th line, where Hamlet, parodying Osric's 406 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. affected style and high-flown nonsense, says to him, Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you ; though, I know, to divide him inventorially would dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail, perhaps the meaning is : 'To give an exact and particular description of all Osric's excellencies would, after all, be no better than yawing; the person who attempted it would have as little chance of attaining the object he pursued, as a ship, which yawed, would have of overtaking a first-rate sailing vessel.' KING LEAE. 407 KING LEAE. * King Lear ' is one of those plays, of which we have both a Quarto and a Folio edition, and the text of the Folio, we are told, was not printed from the Quarto, but from an independent MS. When, therefore, the Quarto and the Folio agj^ee, we may reasonably conclude that we have a faithful repro- duction of Shakespeare's original ; at any rate, in such a case it would be highly imprudent to meddle with the text, unless it were glaringly corrupt, and there were no possibility of making anything of it. Ligenious conjectures, imaginary improvements, are out of place as against the silent testimony of two independently printed copies, both poinUng without variation in the self-same direction. With this fresh in our minds, let us proceed to examine the follow- ing passage which occurs in Act I. 2. 17-22, Acti. 2.17-22. Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund As to the legitimate : fine word, — legitimate ! Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall to the legitimate, I grow : I prosper : Now, gods, stand up for bastards. 408 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. ' Shall to' th' legitimate ' is the reading of the Folio ; ' shall tooth ' legitimate ' is the reading of the Quarto. That these readings, though slightly discrepant verbally, are the same virtually, I hold to be certain from the fact, that, elsewhere in Shakespeare, where the words ' to the ' unquestionably are intended, ' to the ' and ' too th' ' are at times written indifferently. We have no reason, then,— no strong compelling -reason — to dispute the integrity of the text. There is no scent of corruption, there is merely an ellipse of the verb— an idiom which occurs too frequently in Shakespeare to excite suspicion or surprise. The words are susceptible of more meanings than one: 1. Edmund the base shall stretch himself to the height of, shall reach unto, and put himself on a level with, the legitimate. 2. Edmund the base shall hie to him, to do upon him that foul deed, which we may well suppose he was already ruminating in the dark chambers of his wicked heart. 3. Edmund the base shall to the legitimate, shall attain unto legitimacy, shall work out his own legitimation. I suggest these explanations, but I do not wish to lay particular stress on any one of them. To explain KING LEAR. 409 is to weaken. The aposiopesis was probably intended. The bastard's sudden concealment of his exact purpose, just at the moment, too, that he seemed about to reveal it — his broken utterance, accompanied perhaps with a wink of the eye, a wave of the hand, or a nod of the head, and this even in a soliloquy — are far more ominously expressive than the most distinct articulation, or the most direct enunciation. How is it, then, that critics, so acute and learned as the editors of the ' Cambridge ' Shakespeare, forgetting the strictly ascetic principles which they proposed to themselves in their Preface, have introduced into the ' Globe ' edition Capell's fanciful conjecture, ' shall top the legitimate,' which is founded on no authority, and is negatived point blank by two independent impressions ? And can Mr. Aldis Wright imagine that he is furnishing us with corroborative evidence, when he quotes a passage from ' Macbeth,' and a passage from another part of this play, to show that Shakespeare uses the word ' top,' of which fact we have no doubt whatever ? I take my stand here on the Foho and on the Quarto, and maintain that ' top ' is the bastard word, and ' to the' is legitimate. A little further on there is some little misappre- Act^ i; hension as to the exact meaning of Act I. 3. 18-20, Now, by my life, Old fools are babes again ; and must be -used With checks as flatteries — when they are seen abused. 18-20. 410 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABB. The usual explanation is that given by Tyrwhitt, who says — I copy from Mr. Wright's note — ' old men must be used with checks, as well as flatteries, when they,' i.e., the flatteries, ' are seen abused.' He should rather have said, ' when they,' i.e., the old men, ' are seen abused.' A passage in * Pericles,' — ^Act I. 2. 37-43 — where Mngs are said to be abused by the flatteries addressed to them, confirms me in the opinion, that here too the subject of the verb is not the flattery offered, but the persons to whom it is offered. Peace, peace, and give experience tongue, They do abuse the king that flatter him : For flattery is the bellows blows up sin ; The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark. To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing : Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err. Act II. 2. A cry has been raised as to the soundness of the "^"^"- text in Act II. 2. 176-177, where Kent sa^s that Cordelia , shall find time From this enormous state seeking to give Losses their remedies. For my part, I can see no justification of any suspicion of unsoundness here. The phrase, ' shall find time,' is used absolutely, as it is in ' Julius Cresar,' Act V. 3. 103, I shall find time, Cassius, I shafU find time. KING LEAR. 411 A comma, therefore, had perhaps better part it off from the words that follow ; as for them, they may be a little out of their natural order ; they may express in rather an uncommon way a not uncommon sentiment, but neither of these peculiarities is repugnant to Shakespeare's style. If there is obscurity, it arises from the inversion, and partly also from the condensation. I understand Kent to say — it has been suggested that he may be reading his letter by snatches for want of light — that Cordelia would find the opportunity she was looking for, in her endeavour to gain for King_ Lear his lost independence and rule, and would remedy the abnormal state of things which then prevailed. I must not pass over unnoticed an extraordinary Act ii. i. i65. interpretation, which Mr. Aldis Wright has set down for the 166th line of Act II. 4, where King Lear, calling down curses on Goneril for her unnatural conduct, exclaims. Strike her young bones, Tou taking airs, with lameness ! You nimble Hghtnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes ! Infect her beauty, You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun. To faU and blast her pride ! To understand ' her young bones ' as ' her unborn infant,' because in the ' Chronicle of King Lear ' we have Alas, not I ; poor soule, she breeds yong bones, And that it is makes her so tutchy sure, 412 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. seems to me to be a ' non sequitur.' The context is fatal to such an interpretation. King Lear, after denouncing Goneril in general terms, proceeds to frame against her a three-fold curse : her bones are young ; lame them : her eyes are scornful ; blind them : her beauty carries her away ; blast it. The last two refer to Goneril personally, to Goneril personally it were reasonable to suppose that the first does also. In the * Tempest ' we read ' my old bones ache ;' as well in ' King Lear ' may ' her young bones ' be used in their natural sense. Moreover, there is a special fitness in her father's cursing her young bones, as she had taunted him with being old. Nor is it likely that the king, after he had petitioned the gods to carry into her womb sterility, would assume that there was an unborn infant to strike with lameness. This is an instance in which I cannot but think that the much book-learning of the Cainbridge annotatdr has led him astray. Act II. 4. 273- What again is it which has caused such pertur- bation among commentators in Act 11. 4. 273-274, where King Lear cries But, for true need, — You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need. It cannot be the meaning ; fo*r the meaning is as clear as the heavens. ' As for true need, need in the strictest barest sense of the word, give me, (says the old king), power to endure that ; power to endure I KING LEAB. 413 heed.' Is it, then, the repetition of the word ' patience ' that offends ? But therein consists the force, and beauty, and pathos of the passage. The old man harps on that, which he knows too well he has not, but which he knows too well is the one only thing which it is absolutely necessary for him now to have. Or is it the scansion that jars upon the ear ? But what greater licence here than a superfluous syllable in the middle pause of the ver&e, so common in Shakespeare, as, for instance, in 'King Eichardlll,' Act I. 1. 116, G. Meantime have patience. C. I must perforce. Farewell. though there would be no difficulty in citing examples, where there is no change of speaker. Or, lastly, is it the difference of accentuation, occurring in the same word in the same line ? But neither is that anything to be startled at. We have in * 3 King Henry VI,' Act I. 1. 228, Pardon me, Margaret ; pardon me, sweet aon ; ' Twelfth Night,' Act V. 1. 101, But for thee, fellow ; fellow, thy words are madness ; •King Henry VIII,' Act V. 1. 133, Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt. If there had not been a note on this passage, we certainly should not have asked for one. 414 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act IV. 1. 71. I must say a word, too, in rpassing, in vindication of tb.e reading of the Quartos in Act IV. 1. 71, Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That stands your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly. ' Stands ' here may be good for the compound ' withstands,' the prefix being frequently omitted in Shakespeare, where the exigency of the metre requires it. Thus we have 'nointed vice anointed, 'raged ,, enraged, 'xeuse „ excuse, 'scape „ escape, 'filed „ defiled, 'braid „ upbraid. An example of this use of ' stand ' actually occurs in ' The Taming of the Shrew,' Act I. 2. 112, I'll tell you what, sir, an she stands him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face. Act. rv. 2. 57. It is not, however, very easy to certify what Shakespeare wrote in Act I«V. 2. 57, where the Quartos have France spreads his banners in our noiseless land. With plumed helm thy slayer begin threats ; ") slaier begins threats ; J while the reading of the corrected copies of the earliest impression is, ' thy state begins thereat,' on which is based Eccles ' conjecture, which for lack of •long vice belongs. 'j-ested ,, arrested. 'leges „ alleges. 'pointed ,, appointed. 'cerns „ concerns. 'stroyed ,, destroyed. KING LEAE. 415 a better has been accepted by many editors, « thy state begins to threat.' I had at one time thought that the original hne might have been With plumed helm thy standard 'gins to threat, that is, France, by which is meant, of course, the king of France, begins to threaten Albany's standard. So serious a deviation, however, from the text of the Quartos would hardly be listened to by the critics, and does not quite satisfy myself, I offer, therefore, another conjecture, which differs from the Quarto version by but a_ single letter, With plumed helm, thy slayer, big in threats. A contrast would thus be drawn between France and Albany : the former already on the march ; the latter — the critic will now please to read with care the line which follows — ' sitting still ': the former, full of menace; the latter, so far from flaeeting threat with threat, crying, ' Alack, why does he so ? ' In a word, on the one side alacrity and stout defiance ; on the other inactivity and pusillanimous com- plaining. The weights in the two opposite scales are nicely adjusted. The phrase, ' big in clamour,' I may add, is used a little further on in ihe play. I need not make any apology for commenting on Act iv. 3. the lines— Act IV. 3. 20-21— "'"^^- 416 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. you have seen Sunshine and rain at once ; her smiles and tears Were like a better way, because there seems to be a general consent among commentators that the passage is not now as Shakespeare wrote it, * Better way ' has been puzzled over— has been found fault with ; in lieu of it several emendations, none of them satisfactory, have been proposed. Boaden, however, held to the reading of the copies, which he explained to mean ' in a more beautiful fashion' — an explanation, which, though pointing in the right direction, is yet wanting in definiteness and clearness. The use of ' way,' however, in the sense suggested by him is not uncommon in Shakespeare. Compare Sonnet XVI, But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, .Time ? ' Cymbeline,' Act I. 1. 137, Past hope, and in despair ; that way, past grace. « Cymbeline,' Act I. 4. 101, A that way accomplished courtier. Now what did the gentleman, when describing the effect produced on Cordelia by certain letters which he had delivered to her, mean, when he said that her smiles and tears were like sunshine and rain at once, but like after a better fashion ? He meant KING LEAE. 417 that, though that beautifal phenomenon was the best comparison that he could think of to convey some idea of the expression of Cordelia's countenance, it did not adequately represent it ; her smiles and tears were like it, but in a better fashion ; what that better fashion was, Shakespeare himself, if we will accept his explanation, proceeds at once to reveal to us ; those happy smilets That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to Tenow What guests were in her eyes ? This, then, was the peculiarity in Cordelia's case — her smiles and tears were simultaneous, but they were not intermingled, as in the natural phenome- non ; though the tear wetted her eye, -the smile on her lip knew it not ; there Was no cloud, no shade, no dampness in her beautiful sunshine ; it was unique ; it was incomparable ; it was most like sun- shine and rain at once, but sunshine and rain at once did not express it, and did not equal it. A dozen lines further down, the same gentleman, Act rv. 3. 33. having been asked by Kent, whether she made verbal answer, replies that she uttered, almost in spite of herself, sundry ejaculations, 'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of 'father' Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart ; Cried, ' Sisters ! sisters ! Shame of ladies 1 sisters ! Kent ! father ! sisters ! What, i' the storm ? i' the night ? Let pity not be believed.' There she shook The holy water from her heavenly eyes, And clamour moisten'd : then away she started To deal with grief alone. 418 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. The words, 'And clamour moisten'd,' have given rise to a great deal of learned wrangling, some dis- putants insisting that they are corrupt, others who try to defend them making a mess both of the construction and the meaning. I myself was at one time tempted to cast about for some emenda- tion, and I felt almost positive that * moisten'd' had crept into the line by mistake for maister'd, master d, the noun ' clamour ' being, of course, the object, and not the subject of the verb : first, she ceased weeping, or, as it is beautifully expressed. She shook the holy water from her^heavenly eyes ; and, secondly, she ceased crying out — ' she mastered clamour;' but on further- reflection I perceived that I had been endeavouring to plaster Shakespeare's magnificent granite with poor untempered mortar. A critic friend asking me whether there were not a fine poetic fancy in moistening clamour with tears, I threw aside my idol with scorn and contempt, and clung to the poet's image with assurance and satisfaction. She shook off the tears, and moistened clamour with them. That this was in Shakespeare's mind — in Shakespeare's MS. — it is hardly too much to say that we have Shakespeare's own testimony, when we read such lines as ' 2 King Henry IV,' Act IV. 5. 139-140, But for my tears, The moist impediments unto my speech ; 130. KING LEAR. 419 ' King Henry VIII.' Act V. 1. 158, He has strangled His langitage in his tears ; ' As You Like It,' Act IV. 2. 141, Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed; add too « 3 King Henry VI,' Act V. 4. 74-75, For every word I speak Ye see I drink the water of my eyes. With regard to the next passage to which I shall Act v. 3. 129, advert— Act V. 3. 129-130— it is not so easy to say what Shakespeare wrote, as that he certainly could not have written what is ascribed to him either in the Quarto or in the Folio. The reading of the former is Behold it is the priviledge of my tongue ; of the latter Behold it is my priviledge, the priviledge of mine honours. By judicious blending Pope compounded a line, which has found a place, I believe, in most editions. Yet for all that I shall not be deterred from offering a new arrangement of an old difficulty. I put a colon after 'my privilege,' and blot out ' the priviledge' which follows, which I believe to have been a clerical or typographical error, the noun * priviledge ' having been carelessly repeated, and possibly the definite article having been prefixed to it under the idea that the phrase, • of my honours,' depended upon it. 420 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEB. Such, however, is not the case. ' Of my honours ' — we may either drop the plural termination as a mistake, or suppose that Shakespeare here used the plural, as he often does, where we should permit only the singular — in common with ' my oath and my profession,' is a solemn asseveration, the preposition * of ' being not unfrequently used in such forms of speech, where we should rather use the preposition ' on.' The passage, then, will stand thus : Behold it is my privilege ; of mine honours, My oath, and my profession, I protest . . . . , . . . . thou art a traitor. Act V. 3. 202, I pass on now to somewhere about the 200th line, where, after Edgar had told his brief tale, and Edmund had interposed a few words, Albany says. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in ; For I am almost ready to dissolve. Hearing of this ; whereupon Edgar resumes — Mne 204 — This would have seem'd a period To such as love not sorrow ; but another, To amplify too much, would make much more, , And top extremity. The question is, to what, or to whom, does * another ' refer ? Opinions are divided. Some take it to mean ' another person,' others • another calamity,' both person and calamity alike KING LEAR. 421 indefinite. I am strongly of opinion that it refers to the person who is definitely and distinctly delineated in the verses which fellow. ' But ' is a conjunction, not an adverh; it coordinates two clauses, the several parts of which are without a doubt antithetical to each other. The- particular clause introduced by it, which commences with ' another ' and ends with 'extremity,' is merely an introduction to, and a brief summary of, what follows. It is, in fact, the heading of that new chapter of horrors which is about to be described. "Who was the man who would not suffer a period to woe, but would make much more, and top extremity ? The answer is given in the lines which follow ; Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man, Who, having seen me, &c. That man was Kent — . Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent ; who in disguise Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service Improper for a slave. He it was who bellow'd out As he'ld burst heaven ; threw him on my father ; Told the most piteous tale of Lear .and him That ever ear received : which in recounting His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life Began to crack : This is the amplification, this the much made more, the topping of extremity. To Kent, then. 422 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKBSPEABE. * another ' refers — an interpretation, which, although it has not been surmised, or at least not suggested, by any previous expositor, I hold to be not only possible, but extremely probable, though I may not flatter myself that I shall be able all at once to turn the tide of opinion which has run for so long, and with such persistence, in two totally different directions. OTHELLO. 423 OTHELLO. The 'passage, which will be expected to form the Act l i. 21. front and heading of any paper which professes to deal with the knotty parts of ' Othello,' is that well- known one in Act I. 1. 21, where lago, grumbling at Cassio's having been appointed by Othello to be his lieutenant, sneers at him as A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife, although it is certain that he had no fair wife at all, and, if he had one, it is not clear how he could be • almost damn'd ' in her. Some have striven to find a meaning without altering the text'; others have altered the text, and then found for 'it a meaning ; but no one, that I know of, has yet hit upon either a text or a meaning, which carries absolute conviction, or even gives reasonable satisfaction, to any number of those who may fairly be called Shakespearian critics. The mystery remains. Is there any possi- bility of rmveiling it ? I will state my views on the subject, and leave it to others to say ' Yea ' or ' Nay.' The text I shall leave as I find it; the author's meaning I shall endeavour to evolve. 424 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. The word, which seems to me *to require special and primary attention, as having hoodwinked many and led them astray, is not the word ' wife,' but the word ' damn'd,' which does not refer, as Theobald imagined, to the after-state, nor indeed to the soul's condition in this terrestrial world, but is lago's curt sharp mode of expressing what is more commonly expressed by the participle * disqualified.' And if, in saying that Cassio was ' almost damn'd in a fair wife,' he meant to insinuate that he was not altogether disqualified on that ground, because he was not actually married to a fair wife, his words may be taken as a fling at the looseness of Cassio's amours, and a stab at his character. But, although the line may perhaps admit of being ■so understood, I will not confine myself to that mode of interpreting it. I think that lago's declaration, looked at fairly and interpreted broadly, amounts to this, that, putting aside all other objections to Cassio's appointment, there was one peculiarity in his case, which of itself was almost sufficient to disqualify or damn him, and that was that he was under the infiueme oj a woman. I shall be told that ' wife ' is the word used, and that Bianca's connexion with Cassio was of a concubinal and uot a connubial ch'aracter. I answer OTHELLO. 425 that lago did not care a rush whether Cassio were married or not, nor had he any intention here of defining the exact nature of Cassio's amorous entan- glements ; he only touched them, in so far as, from a military point of view, they tended to Cassio's disqualification, and the disqualification consisted not in the connexion being regular or irregular, but in the fact that Cassio had surrendered himself to the charms of a captivating and commanding woman. But why then use the term ' wife ? ' Perhaps, by speaking of Cassio's having a ' wife,' when every one knew that Bianca was not One, lago blasted Cassio more effectually than if he had used the properer designation ; but I think that Shakespeare occasionally uses the word ' wife,' when the marriage ceremony is purposed, but has not been actually performed ; certainly in ' Measure for Measure,' Act V. 1. 230, Angelo's affianced, but repudiated, is called ' wife.' In 'Antony and Cleopatra,' Act III. 1, 61, Cleopatra calls Antony 'husband.' And I think it not improbable that Shakespeare used the word here in a similarly loose way, more especially as Bianca, if we may believe lago, had given it out that Cassio was going to marry her— Act IV. 1. 118 — so that lago himself exclaimed, ' Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her. Sometimes, as in Act IV. 1. 95,;iago calls Bianca 426 HABD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. Cassio's 'housewife,' at other times he strumpets and harlots her ; but in this passage it is not Bianca, but Cassio, whom he wishes to vihfy ; and, fair wife or fair woman, either suited his purpose, which was to ridicule Cassio's fitness for high military command on the ground that he was enthralled by a beauty. When Desdemona begged to be allowed to take ship with Othello, Othello thought it incumbent on him to assure the Venetian magnates that he would not ' scant their great and serious business, because she was with him.' When Cassio found himself on one occasion face to face with Bianca, he said, I do attend here on the general ; And think it no addition, nor my wish, To have him see me womarCA. The objection, which Othello anticipated, which Cassio apprehended, was the very objection which lago thrust home. The fair BianCa, call her wife or call her woman, would corrupt the *ef&ciency of Othello's lieutenant. *A martial man to be soft fancy's slave !' This is the pith of it. * The question whether military men should be accompanied by their wives, when going on foreign service, was debated with much ability at Rome under the emperor Tiberius ; a maflterly precis of the^j-oa and eom still lives in the Annals of Tacitus, Book III. chs. 33, 34, which contain nearly all that may be said upon the subject. OTHELLO. 427 How now are we to deal with Act 1. 3. 262, 263, for Act l 3. 262- which no less than a dozen different conjectural ^^^" emendations may be found in the ' Cambridge Shakespeare T The Quartos, and in the main the Folios, have Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, To please the palate of my appetite, Nor to comply with heate, the young affects, In my defunct, and •proper satisfaction ? With all deference to those who think otherwise, emendation here is not necessary* The language is explicable, the style is Shakespearian. Othello protests that his object in wishing to be accompanied by Desdemona is not to comply with heat, which the young are so eager to gratify, in his satisfaction, i.e., while seeking to satisfy his natural desires, his satisfaction being, as he epithets it, a defunct satis- faction, i.e., one which has relieved and disencumbered itself of (such is the strict meaning of the verb *defungor') such juvenile ardour, and, secondly, a 'proper' satisfaction, i.e., peculiar to himself, his age, disposition, temperament, and, I may add, his military profession. The Moor speaks as one who had mastered his passions. His heart was ruddered by his head. He was a soldier first, a husband afterwards. No need in this passage to set up the. bloody flag ! 428 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Act II. 1. 65. I am not positive, however, what the reading should be in Act II. 1. 65, where the 'Globe ' editors have He hath achieved a maid ; That paragons description anS wild fame ; One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, And in the essential vesture ef creation Does tire the ingener. The first Folio has 'tyre the Ingeniuer ; ' the second, third, and fourth Folios, ' tire the Ingeniver ; ' the first Quarto, ' beare all excellency': — the second and third Quartos, ' bear an excellency ': — The emendations proposed are ' tire the ingenious verse,' Pope; ^ tire the inventer,' Oapell ; 'tire the ingenuous virtue,' Steevens ; ' tire the ingine ever,' Malone ; ' tire the engineer,' ov ' beat all excellency,' Mason ; 'tire the Ingenieur,' Hehley; 'try the Ingenieur,' Becket ; ' tire the Indian ever^ Jackson ; ' tire the imaginer,' Jervis. After well turning over in my mind the readings of the Folios (for we may put aside the inferior Quarto reading), the various conjectural emendations which have been proposed, as well as some others which have occurred to me as possible, I have come to the conclusion that perhaps, upon the whole, 'ingener' or ' engineer ' sufficiently approximates to the word of the Folios, and sufficiently suits the sense of the OTHELLO. 429 passage, to command our acquiescence. The question is, how shall we explain it ? It is usually explained to be a designation for a poet ; and with equal propriety it might stand for a statuary or a painter. I shall start the question whether it may not be used here to indicate the tongue. The reader is shocked. I trust, however, he will not reject at once without reason, what not without reason I have ventured to intimate, but will defer his judgment until he has heard the evidence which I am prepared to offer in support of such a seemingly monstrous paradox. In the old writers ' engine ' seems to have been used for a ' contrivance ' of any kind ; whether framed by the mind, or formed by the hand ; of any material, whether of wood, or metal, or, as it would seem, of flesh. For Chaucer unquestionably so designates the tongue, when in his ' Troilus and Cressida ' he makes Pandarus say, And were it wist that I through mine engine Had in mine neoe yput this fantasie ; the following striking examples, too, we have in Shakespeare ; • Titus Andronicus,' Act III, 1, S2-84, 0, that delightful engim of her thoughts, That blabb'd them with such pWasing eloquence, Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage. ' Venus and Adonis,' line 867. Once more the engine of her thoughts began. 430 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAEE. To this direct evidence may be added other of a more circumstantial character, which, however, in a passage of this sort, deserves to be taken into account. Just previously the poet had alluded to the ' quirks of blazoning pens.' Now it is by no means an uncommon practice with Shakespeare, after mentioning the ' pen,' to follow on with the mention of the tongue or voice. Thus in the Prologue to ' Troilus and Cressida ' we have ' not in confidence of author's pen or actor's voice ;' and in the same play, Act III. 3. 204, Which hath an operation more divine Than breath or pen can give exprSssure to ; and perhaps the reader will particularly note a passage, which is too long to transcribe, in the 106th Sonnet, beginning with When in the chronicle of wasted time, where, after ' blazon ' and ' her antique pen,' comes in the last line * lacks tongues to praise.' This mode of indicating the tongue, seeing that it is a living moving organ, enabling this wonderful piece of machinery of ours to give articulate utter- ance to our inmost feelings and thoughts, would not exceed the licence which might be taken by a great poet. If the cochlea might be called the * house- bearer ' {(jupBoiKOQ), the polypus the * boneless one ' (avoo-Ttoc), the hand the 'five-branched one' {irivroloQ), OTHELLO. 431 the ant the ' knowing one ' (i'S|Oic), without any other word being added to distinguish them severally, quite possibly, quite fitly, might the tongue be described as the ' engineer,' which would be tired were it to attempt to describe the indescribable natural excellences, the pure essential beauties, which invested the unparagoned Desdemona. I shall next protest against any alteration whatever being made in that portion of lago's speech in Act in. 3. 467-469, where he says, ' Let him ' (Othello) * command,' And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever, albeit Pope would have read, ' Not to obey ;' Theobald, 'nor, to obey;' Capell, 'no remorse;' an anonymous emendator, * shall breed me no remorse,' or • shall bury my remorse.' What would this be but to corrupt, to weaken, the text — to rub out one of those fine bold dark strokes which help to make up Shakespeare's delineation of lago's character ? What shall be lao'o's remorse ? It shall be to obey — pure et simple —without question, hesitation, or compunction, no matter what the bloody deed that he is com- manded to do. Obedience and remorse shall be to him as terms without a difference, or rather the latter shall be identical with the former. Yes, this is lago's profession of faith ; uttered with seeming 432 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. fervour, but with callous indifference and with grim devilish determination. His tender mercies are indeed cruel. Shakespeare well knew what he was about, when he put such words into the mouth of lago. Such startling incongruities, such confound- ing of right and wrong, are" founded deep in the depravity of the human heart, and have darkened many a page of ancient and modern history. The Greek historian relates of the contending factions in ancient Hellas that, rrjv EiaiBiiiav a^twdtv twv ovofxaTU)v SQ TO. apya avrriWa^av tt] SiKaiutrsi. Lucan tellS US that Caesar's solus pudor was non vincere hello, and, according to the same author, among the terrors that were presaged to Eome about that time, one was scelerique nefando Nomen erit virtus. Who now would wish to interpolate a negative in that line of lago's speech ? Aotra.4.121. With regard to a phrase, which has been called in question, in Act HI. 4. 121, So shall I clothe me in a forced content, And shut myself up in some other course — ' shoote myself up ' is the spelling of the first Quarto — it finds its best apology in a verse of the 31st Psalm, Thou hast not shut me up into the hand of the enemy, but hast set my feet in a large room, Biblical phraseology, as every one knows, being of not uncommon occurrence in the works of Shakespeare. 66. OTHELLO. 433 The Cambridge editors have an unusually long Act iv. 2. 65, note for them in the ' Cambridge Shakespeare ' on Act lY. 2. 65, 56, where, after telling us that the first Quarto has A fixed figure, for the time of scorne, To point his slow vnmouing fingers at — oh, oh, that the second and third Quartos have the same except that they substitute ' finger ' for ' fingers,' and that the first Folio which is followed substantially by the rest has The fixed figure for the time of Scorne* To point his slow, and moving finger at, they give no less than eight different readings of the lines, authorized by as many different Commentators, who leave the controversy still bleeding. The explanation, which I have to offer, will in all proba- bility be thought much too simple to be of any real value, but, nevertheless, as believing in its sufficiency, I will give it a place. I take my stand on the reading of the Quarto, which I believe that the editors of the Folio, not understanding and thinking to better, altered for the worse. And the first question which I shall ask is this, Is there any allusion here to the sun-dial ? Mr. Knight thinks not, although he had before him those lines in the 104th Sonnet, Ah ! yet doth beauty like a dial hand Steal from his figure* and na pace perceived, 434 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKEgPEAKE. as well as the following from one of Davenant's plays, Even as the slow finger of the dial Doth in its motions circular remove To distant figures. I have a high opinion of Mr. Knight's judgement, but in this instance I cannot defer to it. The dial was undoubtedly in Shakespeare's mind, and the passages which I have just cited seem to me to give a clue to the meaning. I do not so much refer to the quotation from Davenant, where, however, the same epithet is attributed to the dial's hand, as to Scorn's finger here ; I rely chiefly on the language of the Sonnet, where the word is 'no pace perceived.' It is this imperceptible movement, which deceives the eye into believing that there is no movement, which is the first item to be taken into account ; and the second is, that Scorn's dial (of which, and not of the sun-dial, the iDoet here speaks) does not observe the same rate of progress, as the sun-dial. The hand of the sun-dial moves slowly, but its movement is velocity itself as compared with the movement of Scorn's finger. It is long long before Scorn quits the figure at which it has once pointed. So far from having any movement, it seems fixed and stationary. What movement there is, is certainly not appreciable. Be minimis non curat poeta. Boldly, therefore, he calls Scorn's finger, a ' slow,' nay, an * unmoving ' finger ; for such it seems, and such, within a little, it is. The two epithets modify each other. Strike the balance between them, and we have the meaning justly and exactly. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 435 ANTONY AND CLEOPATEA. It is not until we come to 'Antony And Cleopatra,' Act 15. 28, Act I. 6. 28, where we meet with the lines. Think on me, That am with Phcebus' amorous pinches black, And wrinkled deep in time, that we can vouch for the correctness of those beautiful lines in ' The Two G-entlemen of Verona,' Act IV. 4. 160, The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks, And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face^ That now she is become as black as I, where efforts have been made to expunge ' pinch'd,' and substitute I know not what in its place. The identity of expression in the two passages forbids us to suppose that there is error in either. If ' pinching ' may be attributed to the scorching sun, it may be also to the freezing air, the part pinched, be it of animal or vegetable, becoming black in consequence. 436 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAEE. Acti. 5. 48. But what are we to say of 'arm-gaunt' in Act I. 5. 48 ? So he nodded, And soberly did mount an *arm-gaunt steed, Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke Was beastly dumb'd by him. We can only guess at the meaning of the word, if it is genuine, or guess at the word, or words, of which it is a hideous disfigurement, if it is counterfeit. The only meanijig that I can imagine for it is, either that the steed was gaunt to look at from the armour that he wore, or that he was gaunt as a veteran charger who had been used to the service of arms. I acknowledge that I have no great faith in either of these interpretations, nor indeed in the word itself, which I will liken to one of those nondescript monsters of antiquity, which shadow forth some historical fact or legend, but what, we can hardly make out. ' Arm-gaunt ' — I give it as my opinion, I cannot substantiate it by any proof — is a miserable and grotesque bit of bad spelling, worthy to be shovelled into the same gulf of oblivion as ^ my racMes' (miracles), 'burbolt' (birdbolt), ' unsisterecl ' (unscissored), ' foretel ' (fertile), 'pannelled' (spaniel' d), et hoc genus omnc. Indistinctly and possibly confusedly written in the original, * Arme-gaunt Ff , ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 437 in the transcript it became further defeatured, and frightfully and undistinguishably mutilated. Will the reader have patience with pie, while I turn about this lump of a word a little, in the hope of beating it again into what I conceive may have been its pristine shape ? I start with the assumption that an epithet, which Shakespeare assigns to the lion, would not be too mean to apply to such a noble domesticated animal as the horse — such a horse as Cleopatra would like to hear that Antony had mounted. The ' ramping lion ' and ' rampant bear ' of former plays have suggested to me ' a rampant steed ' for this. Wherein can we trace any sign of resemblance ? I will suppose that the line originally stood thus, And soberly did mount on a rampant steed. The first thing that I shall do is to throw the last words into confusion, and present them disguisedly thus, 'on arampaunt steed.' Now it is well-known that p is often so formed as to bear a close resemblance to g, with which, as a matter of fact, it is sometimes confused. We have only to suppose, then, that arampaunt was so written as to look like aramgaunt, and we have the genealogy of this Centaurean production, which may be set down thus, arampaunt, aramgaunt, armgaunt. There can be no valid objection to the preposition • on ' following the verb ' mount ; ' 438 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. •to mount on a steed' is a possible 'pregnant locution ' for mounting, and sitting, as a rider, on a steed. Even were the preposition superfluous, prepositional superfluities abound in Shakespeare. And as regards the rhythm, the line may be matched with the following one from ' All's Well That End's Well,' The well lost life of mine on his grace's cure ; while, as for the meaning, ' rampant ' pictures to us the pawing rearing restlessness of the high-neighing charger, which strikingly contrasts with, if it does not to a certain extent account for, Antony's soberly mounting. Such, then, is the explanation which with some misgiving I offer of this commentator's puzzle, until some one arise, endowed with the gift of clairvoyance, to tell us what it was which Shakespeare really wrote ; for I dismiss such emendations as ' an argent steed,' ' a roan gelt steed,' ' an ungelt steed,' as mere illusions of the fancy, bearing but a faint resemblance to the word of the Folios. Act II. 2. 63. And now I am going to take editors to task for thrusting a negative particle into the text in Act II. 2. 53, where there is neither authority for doing so, nor yet absolute necessity. Undoubtedly Shakespeare might have written If you'll patch a quarrel, As matter whole you have not to make it with, It must not be with this ; ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 439 but as undoubtedly he might have written, what he is represented in the Folios as having written, If you'll patch a quarrel, As matter whole you Mve to make it with, It must not be with this. In the former case ' as ' is a conjunction meaning ' inasmuch as ;' in the latter it is a particle used in the sense of ' as being,' ' as if it were.' Either reading being possible, which should have the precedence ? Unquestionably that which has Folio warrant. The passage may be thus paraphrased, ' If you are bent on patching a quarrel, you must not make it with this, under the idea that, .or as consider- ing that, this were whole matter you hUve to make it with ; it should be something less flimsy than this that should serve as material for a quarrel between Csesar and Antony.' "What the true reading is in Act III. 10. 10 — Aotiii.io.io. whether Antony calls Cleopatra a * Nag,' or a ' hag,' or, as some would have it, a 'rag,' and what 'ribaud- red ' is, and what it means — ' ribald crows ' occurs in ' Troilus and Cressida ' — I confess that I have a very indistinct idea ; but in Act III. 11. 47, Aotm. 11.47. Most noble sir, arise ; the queen approaches : Her head's declined, and death will cease her, but Tour comfort makes the rescue, I will not without a strong protest permit ' seize, ' to be put in the place of 'cease.' At first sight, the 440 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. alteration may seem not only unobjectionable but indispensable. Yet transcribers do not usually write a less common and less familiar word for a trite and hackneyed one. In favour of 'cease,' it may be urged that it is authorized by the Folio ; that, even if there were no examples of its having been used thus transitively by any of Shakespeare's predecessors or contemporaries, there is no reason why he should not have so used it just once and away, as indeed he has done, in reference both to persons and to things, e.g., in ' Cymbeline,' Act V. 5. 255, A certain stuff, which, being fta'en, would cease The present power of life ; and in * Timon,' Be not ceased With slight denials. Moreover I contend that ' cease,' used as it is here, is a high word, a poetical word, and, I have authority for adding, a royal word ; for have we not in ' Hamlet,' the phrase ' the cease of majesty ?' In spite, therefore, of ' rescue ' which follows, and which has no doubt led many to an opposite conclusion, I prefer to read ' cease,' as having a sound and genuine ring, as an antique rare and precious, and above all as thoroughly Shakespearian. Aotni.13.10. With regard to 'mered,' or 'meered,' in Act III. 13. 10, it is not surprising that doubts have been ANTONY AND CLEOPATEA. 441 entertained of its genuineness ; we can only regard it now as a sort of fossilized participle ; yet that it was once a living portion of the English language can hardly be questioned. Such a word, authentic, though possibly at the time at which it was written becoming antiquated, could not have been set down by a copyist accidentally. He must have seen it before him in black and white. We may be positive that Shakespeare Jcneiv the word ; though we can find no second example of it in any other portion of his writings, we may believe that he used it ; its poetic fitness is vouched for by Spenser ; and the meaning of ' divided,' which it is said to bear, is one which suits the context well enough. There is certainly no palmaria cmendatio to take its place. I next come to a passage in Act V. 1. 15, where Act v. 1. 15. the phrase, ' the round world,' has had a stigma attached to it, perhaps because it is thought too poor and tame, considering who was the speaker, and what the passion and power of his speech ; anyhow, being strictly a monosyllable, it may be arraigned on the charge of leaving the line short of a syllable. In its place ' rumed ' might stand, which, pronounced by some ' ru-und,' sounds almost exactly as ' round ' would do, were it mouthed into a dissyllable, which might account for ' round ' having crept into the text. And this word ' ruined ' meets the require- ments of the metre, gives additional terror to a scene 442 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAEE. of confusion, and might have been suggested by more than one passage in ancient classical literature. No wonder, then, that it occurs to almost every one who reads the passage, as it did long ago to myself, and that long ago it has been conjectured. Yet the wary critic will pause ere he parts with ' round.' The verse of the Psalmist, ' He hath made the round world so sure that it cannot be moved,' induces us to ask whether the shape of the world may not be suggestive of the world's steadfastness. ' Bound ' and ' safe ' are closely connected in ' Pericles,' Act I. 3. 122, But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe. If, then, roundness implies perfection of make, structural strength, solidity, steadfastness, irremove- ability, at least so far as the world *is concerned, then ' round,' so far from being a colourless epithet to be castigated by every chiding critic, has a complexion and character which give it a right to its place. That the world should be shaped so strongly, and yet should be shaken so violently ! Such may have been Caesar's way of putting the portent that he says he should have expected when Antony fell. As for the metrical difficulty, it may easily be disposed of by supposing that ' round ' here *is tantamount to a dissyllable — a licence which Shakespeare would not have hesitated to take. I write, therefore. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 443 The breaking of so great a thing should iinake A greater crack ; the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets And citizens to their dens. Before I pass from this splendid tragedy, I will Act v. 2. 355. hazard a conjecture on one more passage, if at least conjecture be needed. The question has been mooted, whether ' caves of Nile ' can be right in Act V. 2. 355, This is an aspic's trail ; and these fig-leaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves Upon the caves of Nile. ' Canes,' and ' eaves,' have been conjectured as more appropriate and probable. The exact word of the Folios is ' caues.' Now I believe that I am not incorrect in saying that in one other passage in Shakespeare, where ' caues ' appears in the copies, there is a strong probability that ' course ' is the word intended. It may have been intended here. It certainly bears a strong phonetic resemblance to ' caues,' and, if it be not too poor a word, it yields a sense which no one can quarrel with. Where the Nile had flowed with its swollen waters, there, after it had ebbed, was a muddy deposit, over which the aspic might be tracked by the slime which he left. 444 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. CYMBELINE. Act III. 3. 21. The first passage which I shall notice in ^^' ' Cymbeline ' is in the 3rd Scene of the 3rd Act, where Belarius, contrasting the rough freedom of a mountain life with the polished servitude of the court, exclaims, 0, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Eiclier than doing nothing for a babe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk ; Such gain the cap of him that makes 'em fine, Yet keeps his bookuncross'd : no life to ours. Suspicion here has fallen upon ' babe,' which, though found in every impression of the Folio, neither suits the context nor satisfies the critic ; if it is correct, it must be used to mark the degradation of the courtier who had to lackey an iiibecile monarch ; but in all probability it has been set down by mistake for some other word which it more or less resembles. What can that word be ? The editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare are confident that it was 'bauble ;' others guess that it was ' bribe ;' others that it was ' brabe. ' CYMBELINE. 445 I know not by whom ' bribe ' was first conjectured, but I think it is not at all improbable that it was the true original word : my reasons I will proceed to state. The proper meaning of ' bribe,' as given by Tyrwhitt in his glossary to Chaucer, is ' that which is given to a beggar,' and this mining matches the passage admirably. The old refugee of the moun- tains estimates life's value, according as it ennobles, according as it enriches, according as it fosters a manly and honourable independence. How is it with the courtier ? For nobleness he has rebuffs ; for riches a portion which, like a beggar, he receives for doing nothing ; his pride is to rustle in unpaid for silk. A similar sentiment, though differently applied, occurs in the 91st Sonnet ; Thy love is better than high birth to me, Richer than wealih, prouder than -garments' cost. Between this couplet and the passage in ' Cymbeline' there is plainly a partial resemblance, ' high birth ' and ' garments' cost ' in the one corresponding to ' nobility ' and ' unpaid for silk ' in the other ; the resemblance would be complete, if ' bribe ' in ' Cym- beline ' were to correspond to 'wealth' in the Sonnet. But how could ' babe ' have found its way into the Folio, if ' bribe' had been set down in the author's 446 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. MS. ? Easily enough. Bri may have been so written as to have been hardly distinguishable from ha; or ' bribe,' pronounced by one who could not sound his rs, would have been almost homophonous with ' babe ;' a short-hand writer in the theatre, a clerk or compositor writing or printing from dictation, would have been at the mercy of such a one, and would not have been able to help himself. Act III. 4. 62. A singular expression occurs in Act III. 4. 52, which has puzzled many : Some jay of Italy Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him. The Cambridge editors say, ' If the text be right, the meaning probably is ' whose mother aided and abetted her daughter in her trade of seduction,' adding that it suits the character of Imogen that she should conceive a circumstance to account for, and in some measure palliate, her husband's fault. I had taken my stand on Dr. Johnson's exposition of the passage, without, however, being aware that I had such a doughty champion to back me. ' Some foreign beauty,' says Imogen, ' some bird with borrowed plumage, a woman who gat her face from artist's pigments and not from mother nature, some painted virago, has betrayed him ?' A somewhat analogous expression is found in ' All's Well That CYMBELINE. 447 Ends Well,' Act I. 2. 62, where mention is made of ' younger spirits,' whose judgements are Mere fathers of their garments ; and in the same play— Act II. 5. 48— we read The soul of this man is his clothes ; Compare also ' Cymbeline,' No, nor thy tailor, rascal, Who is thy grandfather ; he made those clothes, Which, as it seems, make thee. Bold figures of speech, but not too bold for a Shakespeare ! It is not surprising, however, that a mark of cor- Act iii. i. ruption has been set against the 135th line of this same Act and Scene, where Imogen is represented as saying, No court, no father ; nor no more ado With that harsh, noble, simple nothing. That Cloten ; for, unless ' noble ' is used with the bitterest irony, the epithet is neither proper nor applicable. It is true that Cloten, speaking of himself, says, ' I had rather not be so noble as I am,' and in another place he talks of his 'noble and natural person ;' but others describe him as a ' thing too bad for bad report,' and Imogen invariably speaks of him in terms of 1315. 448 HAKD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. deserved contempt. Is it likely that she would call him ' noble ' in the same breath that she calls him ' harsh ' and ' simple nothing ?' The passage would lose none of its pathos, the metre of the line would actually be made good, if we suppose that Shakespeare wrote, No court, no father ; nor no more ado With that harsh — no, no noble — simple nothing. The accumulation of negatives would be in Shake- speare's manner ; such an arrangement of them- is actually found in ' As You Like It,' Act II. 3. 19, Your brother — no, no brother — yet the son. Act III. 4. But, be this as it may, there is no reason why the critics should be uneasy about the 150th line — I am still in Act III. Scene 4 — wHiere Pisanio, speaking to Imogen, says. If you could wear a mind Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise That which, to appear itself, must not yet be But by self danger, you should tread a course Pretty and full of view ; yea, haply near The residence of Posthumus. A ' pretty course ' is a course which is right and proper — one which would not be derogatory to her sex, while it would give her aii opportunity of seeing and perhaps might be even near the residence of Posthumus. In ' Eomeo and Juhet ' Lady Capulet says to the nurse. Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age, 150. OYMBELINE. 449 i.e., of just the age to be married. A 'pretty act,' and 'pretty behaviour,' are phrases jn common use which are understood by every one. But does no critic start at the phrase, ' so citizen Act iv. 2.7-9. a wanton,' in Act IV. 2. 7-9, where Imogen's words are thus given, So sick I am not, yet I am not well ; But not so citizen a wanton as To seem to die ere sick ? A very phoenix we have here ! Could any other than Shakespeare have created it ? Yet, if we allow that the substantive noun is used adjectively — that ' citizen ' stands for ' citizen-like ' — the order of the words ceases to be singular. What, however, it may be asked, is the meaning and force of 'citizen ?' Was it characteristic of citizens to feel or feign to die sooner than other folk ? I can only suppose that ' citizen ' must be referred to a period when the name passed for a corrupt enervated spiritless die-away creature, very different from that hardy type which resisted feudal encroachment and wrung concessions from kings. I may not place a conjecture on the same high level as the litera scripta of a Folio, yet I can conceive it possible that Shakespeare, with his usual fondness for ajeu de mots, may have written But not so sickening a wanton as To seem to die ere sick. 450 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. There is sufficient community of sound between ' citizen ' and * sickening ' to have rendered the confusion not improbable. For the sentiment we may quote ' King Eichard II,' Act III. 3. 163, Or shall we play the wantons with our woes ? Act IV. 2. 16, Further on, the 16th and 17th hnes need, I think, 17. to be sHghtly differently punctuated. Guiderius states concerning his love first the quantity, then the weight ; in its quantity and in its weight, it was equal to the love which he had for his father : I love thee ; 1 have spoke it ; How much the quantity, the weight, as much As I do love my father. For the comma after ' weight ' I only am responsible. Act v. 1, u, We next come to a passage in A.ct V. 1. 14-15, where Posthumus enunciates the measures adopted by the divine governours of the world for the preven- tion of crime and the reformation of offenders. You snatch some hence for little faults ; that's love, To have them fall no more : you some permit To second ills with ills, each elder worse. And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift. I at one time thought, as Singer also seems to have done, that 'elder' must be a mistake for 'alder;' but, as there is no example of that old genitive being used with an adjective not in the superlative degree, CYMBELINE. 451 I have repudiated that heresy, and! am now prepared to show that the text has been vinfairly accused and would be wrongfully altered. The difficulty has arisen from a mistaken motion that ' each elder worse ' must be grammatically connected with ' ills,' whereas in point of fact it is grammatically independent of it, being used absolu- tely, and having reference to the ill-doer and not to the ill done. The gods permit some to add sin to sin ; the older a man grows, the heavier the debt which stands to his account, until at last the sum becomes so enormous, as to have a chance of causing uneasiness and apprehension even to the most inveterate transgressors, leading them at times to repentance and amendment of life: this mode of dealing with evil doers is said to be ' thrift,' that is, advantage to them. For this signification of ' thrift ' we may quote 'The Merchant of Venice,' Act I. 1. 175, I have a mind presages me such thrift That I should questionless be fortunate ; ' Twelfth Night,' Act II. 2. 40, thriftless sighs ; ' Winter's Tale,' Act I. 2. 311, Their own particular thrifts. No need, then, to substitute ' shrift ' for 'thrift,' as some would have done. 452 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPBAKB. Act V. 5. 92- Before I conclude, I must needs say a few words 96, ' on Act V. 6. 92-96, which is not altogether free from difficulty : the passage runs thus, I have surely seen him ; And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore His favour is familiar to me. Boj, Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, To say, ' live, boy ;' ne'er thank thy master ; live. The obelus prefixed to the last line but one by the Cambridge editors, the singular form of the express- ion, the halting disconnected construction, led me at one time to believe that some emendation here was imperatively necessary. Accordingly, I struck out the full stop after ' mine own;' threw the sentence, ' I know not why, wherefore,' into a parenthesis ; and made the infinitive ' to live ' a continuation of, and dependent on, the sentence which my parenthesis had interrupted ; the passage then stood thus, And art mine own, (I know not why, wherefore). To say, ' live, boy ;' but time and reflection have convinced me that the alteration was an unnecessary one : the full stop after ' mine own ' is right ; the omission of a connecting particle between ' why' and ' wherefore,' so far from being censurable, is worthy of admiration, and, I can hardly doubt, was purposed by the author. It just gives that broken character to the king's utterances which was natural to him under the CYMBELINE. 453 circumstances ; he stuttered and stammered, while trying to recollect where and on what occasion he had seen the lad. The actor, toQ, would affect the same perplexity, and ' why, — wherefore,' stammered out by him, would be acknowledged by every one to be happily disconnected. If there were any doubt about the possibility of the infinitive ' to live ' depending on the words which inlmediately precede it, the doubt would vanish after reading in the 49th Sonnet the line. Since why to love I can allege no cause. The accentuation of ' wherefore ' on the last syllable is a licence which Shakespeare did not hesitate to take ; for the close proximity of ' why ' and ' where- fore ' we may refer to ' The Comedy of Errors,' Act II. 2. 43-50, where, however, a conjunction unites them, because there there is no dramatic reason for its omission : Ant. S. Shall I tell you why ? Di-o. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore ; for tkey say every why hath a wherefore. Ant. S. Why first,— for flouting me ; and then, wherefore,— For urging it the second time to me. Bro. S. Was there ever any man thu's beaten out of season, When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason ? 464 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. It has been remarked that CymbeHne does not know what it is which attracts him to ' the seeming boy;' it is, of course, La fuerza de sangre, as one of Cervantes' stories is called — the unknown relation- ship. PERICLES. 455 PEEICLES. What was tlie word that Shakespeare probably Act 1. 1. 17. wrote in ' Pericles,' Act I. 1. 17, where the first and the second Quartos have ' racte,' and the third Quarto • racket ? ' The editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare read 'razed,' which, it must be admitted, agrees with the metaphor of a book to whicih the princess' face is compared, and may be thorfght to derive a sort of sanction from the fact that it is found in a similar connexion in the 25th Sonnet : The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foiled, Is from the book of honour razed quite. Yet ' razed ' bears but a slight resemblance to the word of the copies, and we may reasonably ask whether there is any necessity here for supposing that there has been error at all. In the beginning of this my last paper on Shakespeare's plays I must protest against learned men introducing unnecessarily their own conjectures into the text tb the exclusion of a word, which is authorized, which is explicable, and which it is not at all impossible that Shakespeare 456 HlRD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. wrote. Be it that the metaphor of a book is not sustained, but neither is it in the second of the two dependent adverbial clauses ; and testy ■wrath Could never be lier mild companion. How then may we interpret this word ' racket ?' In the first place, there is a participle ' racked ' (to adopt modern spelling), which is used in the sense of drawing off liquor from a hogshead, and might possibly be applied to the drawing off the humour of sorrow from the headpiece of the daughter of Antiochus. This is one word, but this is not the word of my choice ; there is another, a far superior one in my estimation, and eminently suitable. In ' 3 Henry VI ' we have the phrase ' racking clouds.' Now the sense given in that passage to 'rack,' as it is explained in the glossary appended to the ' Globe Shakespeare, is to ' drive as a cloud.' What is sorrow but a cloud on the face ? and the face from which sorrow is "' racked ' is the face from which sorrow is driven ; and this, I have no doubt, was the word which the poet used, and which is set down, spelt in an old-fashioned way, in the Quartos. Act 1. 2. i-s. For a long time I had considerable doubt as to what in all likelihood was the true reading in Act I. 2. 1-5 ; but here too, after much pondering, I have come to the conclusion, that we need none of the PERICLES. 467 somewhat free emendations whicla have been offered by the critics, but should adherd pretty closely to the reading of the Quartos, save only in the matter of punctuation ; I write thus : Let none disturb us. — Why should this change of thoughts ? The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, By me ['s] so used a guest, as not an hour In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night. The tomb where grief should sleep* can breed me quiet. I have put a note of interrogation at the end of the first line where the Quartos h^ve a comma, and consequently I have no need, two jlines further down, of Mr. Dyce's conjecture which has been adopted by some editors, ' Be my so used a guest,' in lieu of 'By me so used a guest.' I believe with Malone that the substantive verb has fallen out before ' so,' and I have written accordingly. Wliat, then, is my explanation of the interrogatory sentence, ' Why should this change of thoughts?' I answer that the grammatical complement of the auxiliary verb ' should ' is the verb ' disturb,' which Pericles had just used, which he mentally repeats, and which we have to supply ; or, if it be thought that ' disturb ' is not the most suitable verb to be supplied, ' disturb ' must suggest the verb that should be supplied. The king can silence or command away every visible corporeal creature, but he cannot command, be cannot silence, he cannot secure himself from 458 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. the intrusion and interruption of, those invisible agencies, which crowd into the heart and lord and riot there. 'How is it ?' he asks. To his courtiers he can say, ' Let none disturb us ;' why, then, should his thoughts disturb? He proceeds to describe his state a little more particularly, and then with some metaphysical subtlety sums up his conclusion. To commence a new sentence with the line, The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, seems to me a better arrangement, and more in harmony with Shakespeare's style, than, by placing a comma after 'thoughts,' to continue the interrogation to the end of the 5tli line. There is a passage in 'Othello,' where lago urges Koderigo to 'throw some changes on Othello's joy, that it may lose some colour:' the colour of Pericles' thoughts had undergone a 'change,' when the black goddess became his companion: 'change,' therefore, may well hold its place. Act 1. 2. 74. There is nothing more startling in Act I. 2. 74, than an ellipse of the relative — a somewhat harsher ellipse than we come across ordinarily, but not more so than occurs, I will not say, in other plays of Shakespeare, but in other portions of this play: I went to Antioch, "Where, as thou know'st, against the face of death, I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty. From whence an issue I might propagate. Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects. PEEICLES. 459 The plural verb 'are' is used, because the noun 'issue,' which is the antecedent of the relative • which ' which has to be mentally supplied, is, as the grammarians express it, plural iil sense, though singular in form : the following examples will serve, if any are considered necessary : ' Winter's Tale,' Act IV. 2. 29, Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing fhem when they have approved their virtues. ' King Henry VIII,' Act II. 4. 191, for her male isstie Or died where they were made, or shortly after This world had air'd them. It was, I am inclined to think, this plural verb coming after a singular noun, together with the further complication of a very bold ellipse of the relative, which made the doctors shake their heads and pronounce the case beyond remedy. But how are we to mend the metre, how make Act i. 3. 38. good the sense, in Act I. 3. 38, where Thaliard says But since he's gone, the king's seas must please ? If the words of this ragged line are to remain as they are at present, the only acco.unt that I can give of it is, that ' 's ' is used here, as it is very commonly even in passages which are not colloquial and familiar, for 'his,' and that Thaliard says that, 460 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEAEE. since Pericles is gone, ' his,' that is, ' the king's ' seas must please 'the king,' to wit, by drowning Pericles — a consummation which is hinted at in the line which follows, He 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea ; but I confess that I have my misgivings as to the possibility, and certainly as to the general acceptability, of this exegesis, and I must needs admit that some emendation is much to be desired ; yet the only emendation which I can think of is one, which, as being a total stranger to the critics, will, I fear, please none of them. I will take the respon- sibility, however, of giving it an introduction. I ask, then, that ' 's ' may be allowed to represent ' this,' or ' these,' and that ' seas ' — there are the same number of letters in each word, two oT which are for me, and two against me — may be considered a mistake for, or malformation of, ' news :' the lines then will stand thus. But since he's gone, the king this news must please. He 'scaped the land to perish at the sea, or, if any think it probable that the couplet was a rhyming one, he may, if he will, write ' seas.' Act II. 1.56- In Act II. 1. 56-60, where Pericles says Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen, and the second Fisherman replies. Honest I good fellow, what's that ? If it be a day fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody look after it, PERICLES. 461 the Cambridge editors remark, ' Perhaps, as Malone suggested, Pericles had said, 'Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen ! Good day ! ' and the fisherman replies, ' Honest ! Good ! Fellow, what's that ? ' I cannot agree with them. I have no objection to point the passage as I have transcribed it, but in other respects it may remain precisely as we find it. The word ' honest,' which Pericles had applied to the fishermen, they for some reason or other are loth to accept, either because they knew that they were not great sticklers for honesty when it did not seem to square with their interests, or because they did not care to be thus flatteringly accosted by a stranger. Accordingly, the fisherman replies, ' Honest ! good fellow, wtat's that ?' The force of the words which follow will be better under- stood, if I first call the reader's attention to the following dialogue which takes place in ' Timon of Athens,' Act I. 1. 266 ; First Lord. What time o' day is't, Apemantus ? Apem, Time to be honest. First Lord. That time serves still. ' Time to be honest serves still ' was no doubt a popular proverb ; was known to the sailors ; is alluded to by the one who spoke to Pericles ; shows us the connection between ' Honest ! ' and ' If it be a day fits you.' ' No need ' — he as good as says — ' to trouble yourself about honesty, for which any time 462 HAED KNOTS IN SHAKESPEABE. will serve; but, if it be the case that a day fits you, without consulting the calendar or worrying yourself after, for not having done so, use the time, seize the opportunity, do what it suits your convenience to do.' The day, however, which had been a very rough and tempestuous one, and had caused the sea to give Pericles a good ducking, had been anything but fitting to Mm ; he, therefore, naturally enough rejoins May see the sea hath cast upon your coast, as much as to say, that, seeing that he had been shipwrecked, they must know very well that the day had not been a fitting one to him. This seems to me to be the meaning of the passage, which Malone would alter in the most extraordinary fashion without making it a jot clearer. Aotin. 1. 51. My next passage is in Act III. 1. 51, where the first Quarto reads — I pay no regard to obsolete spelling — 1. Pardon us, sir ; with us at sea it hath been still observed. And we are strong in easterne, therefore briefly yield her. Per. As you think meet ; for she must overboard straight : most wretched Queen. ' Malone was the first who read the whole passage ' as prose, and transferred the words, ' for she must ' overboard straight,' to the sailor's speech. PEEICLES. 463 ' For ' easteme ' Steevens first adopted Mason's ' conjecture ' earnest,' and Singer first adopted ' Boswell's conjecture ' custom.' Steevens himself ' had guessed ' credence.' * Mr. Knight, adopting Jackson's conjecture, reads ' 'And we are strong in astern,' z.e.., ' we are driving ' strongly in shore astern.' Malone, who retained * ' eastern,' supposes the words to mean, ' There is a ' strong easterly wind.' ' Such is the critical history of this much-vexed passage, gathered from the Notes appended to ' Pericles ' in the ' Cambridge Shakespeare.' We may safely say that the reading is anything but certain, that not one of the conjectures is altogether satisfactory. It is on this ground alone that I venture to ask the reader's attention to a new and totally different reading of the passage, at the risk of causing some- thing very much like a feeling of sea-sickness to the perhaps already unsettled stomachs of the critics. In the first place, then, I think it important to observe that, in the lines immediately preceding, the reason given by the sailor for wishing to cast the corpse overboard was the high working of the sea, and the loudness of the wind ; the wind will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead. In all probabil- 464 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE, ity the same reference to the state of the weather underlies the words, however they should be written, ' we are strong in easterne,' as immediately after the sailor reasserts the necessity of casting the dead corpse into the sea. Is it possible that the original word was written ' ecstreme ' (extreme), which was mistaken for ' easterne,' and that the sailor insists on the great extremity to which they were reduced ; they were ' strong,' i.e., ' strongly,' i.e,, ' exceedingly in extreme,' or ' in extremity,' they were hard put to it, they were seriously jeopardized. Some such meaning as this would well suit the context, provided the phraseology be passable, and for Shakespeare possible. It is certain that -there are numerous phrases to be found in almost every play, which strike the ear of a modern hearer as unusual, and at times even questionable. Act III. 2. 65. Briefly remarking by the way that the 55th line of Act III. 2. It is a good constraint of fortune that belches upon us, admirably expresses both by its metre and its rhythm the undulatory movement of the sea vomiting up again the chest which it had swallowed, I proceed to Actiii. 3. 36. Scene 3, 36, where we should be losers rather than gainers, were Sydney Walker's conjecture 'moist ' to be substituted for Shakespe.^re's ' masked,' as an PERICLES. 465 epithet of Neptune. When Coriolanus' face was seen covered with blood, it was said of him that he was 'masked with blood;' and similarly the sea-god is represented as ' masked ' with the broald waters with which he is covered. To describe the ocean as Neptune's mask is a pretty enough poetical conceit. The next passage that I must notice is in Act IV. Act iv. i. ii. 1. 11, where the Cambridge editors make Dionyza say of Marina, Here she comes weeping for her only mistress' death, though the Quartos have • onely Mistresse death ' followed by a comma ; the third Folio ' onely Mistresse death' followed by a colon ; and the fourth Folio ' only Mistress death ' also followed by a colon. Singer, however, accepts Dr. Percy's reading, 'her old nurse's death,' on the ground that Lycorida could not have been her only mistress to teach her so many accom- plishments. But it is quite possible that Dionyza may have called her her only mistress for all that. Dionyza would not probably care to speak as correctly as Dr. Percy would have her, nor, I may add, as kindly. More of a demon than a woman was this would-be murderess, full of jealousy and hatred, gall and bitterness. Her sarcastic designation of Lycorida as Marina's ' mistress ' needs surprise, needs deceive, no one. A misnomer it would be beyond all question, but it would be purposed, and it would be like. 466 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Dionyza. ' Her only mistress ' would mean ' a very paragon of a mistress,' 'a very non-such' — a sense in which 'only' is used in 'Much Ado About Nothing,' Act III. 1. 92, in the phrase, 'He is the only man in Italy.' But what ails all the editors that they are so shy here of the reading of the copies ? It can hardly be, because that reading does not admit of being explained ; it must be, because it does not accord with their preconceived notions of what Dionyza ought to have said. But a woman like Dionyza might have said anything—the more malignant and diabolical, the more suitable to her character. She sees Marina coming weeping for her nurse's death ; she knew very well for whom she was weeping ; but it suited her Satanic spirit to say, sardonically smiling the while^ that she is weeping for that fate, which she has already, she fancies, assured for her ; she is weeping for one who will best take care of her, and best manage her — ^her best and only nurse — her best and only mistress — ' She is weeping for her only mistress death.' Depend upon it, a woman like Dionyza was quite capable of giving expression to such an unfeeling sentiment. It will be remembered that in 'Antony and Cleopatra ' death is called the ' beggar's nurse and Caesar's.' Act V. Pro- In the last Act there is a minute, but not ogue. 22-24. unimportant, change which I should make in the PERICLES. 467 punctuation of the last line but one of old Gower's Prologue. I understand him to say that, what is done on board of Pericles' ship, he must leave to those who act the play to report, or, as it is expressed elsewhere, ' action's self shall be tongue to.' Think this his bark : Where what is done, in action more, if might, Shall be discovered ; please you, sit and hark. Compare Gower's Prologue, Act III. 63-56, And what ensues in this fell storm Shall for itself itself perform. I nill relate, action may Conveniently the rest convey ; Whieh might not, what by me is told. I have not yet done with the stops. In Act Y. 1. Act v. 1.172. 172-175, we read, The king my father did in Tarsus leave me. Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife, Did seek to murder me : and having woo'd A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't, A crew of pirates came and rescued me. Now I will not go so far as to say that these lines, which will seem to many utterly confused and anacdluthic, may not be printed and punctuated, just as I have transcribed them, consistently with the idiom of the English language, and with Shakespearian usage. Undoubtedly the conjunction ' and,' which precedes 'having woo'd,' may be used 468 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. here, as I have shown in my notes on the • Tempest ' that it is used in other parts of Shakespeare, in order to indicate some additional circumstance, generally of considerable importance, which the narrator wishes to emphasize and impress. But;it would be to the full as consistent with Shakespearian usage, and as consistent with the idiom of the English language, and it would add to the clearness without taking from the force of the passage, if the participle ' having,' which precedes ' woo'd,' were parted off by a couple of commas from ' woo'd ' on the one hand, and from the ' and ' which precedes on the other, so as to stand by itself, and be treated as an absolute participle, equivalent to the adverbial clause, ' after he had sought to murder me.' This mode of pointing and construing the passage I greatly prefer, and I venture to press it upon the consideration of editors. A passage in ' Antony and Cleopati;a,' Act III. 6. 27- 29, may serve both as an illustration and a parallel : lastly he frets That Lepidus of the triumvirate Should be deposed, and, Mng, we detain All his revenue. Here, even if commas had not been effectually made use of by the editors of the ' Globe ' Shakespeare to isolate ' being,' no one could have failed to under- stand that it was a laconic way of saying ' now that "he is deposed.' PERICLES. 469 As touching Act V. 1. 206-210, the Cambridge Act v. i. 206- editors tell us that the first Quarto, followed ^^°" substantially by the rest, reads thus, I Am Pericles of Tyre ; but tell me now My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said Thou hast been god-like perfect, the heir of kingdoms And another like to Pericles thy father. After filling more than a page of their Notes with the various versions of various emendators and editors, they say in conclusion, that ' the passage is so corrupt that it cannot be corrected with any approach to certainty of conjecture, and accordingly they have left it as it stands in the Quartos and Folios.' But so surely it may stand, and, so standing, it very well admits of being explained. The prince says that in the rest which she had said she had been god-like perfect, i.e., she had thoroughly shown herself his very and true daughter, so that he recognized her, not only as the heiress of all his dominions, but as the very counterpart of himself, ' another like '• — why should any mislike the expression ? — a second ' I,' to be his successor and representative when he should be no more. One passage more: in Act V. 1. 234, the first Act v. 1. 234 three Quartos read Ly. Musicke my Lord ? I heare. 470 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPEARE. Mr. Dyce first suggested that ' music ' should be printed as a stage-direction. The Cambridge editors say that no music is mentioned in Wilkins' Novel, and any music of earth would be likely to jar with that music of the spheres which was already lulling Pericles to sleep. They add that perhaps the passage might be arranged thus, Lys. Music, my lord ? Per. I hear most heavenly music. Why not thus ? Per. Barest sounds ! do ye not hear music ? Lys. My lord ! Per. I hear Most heavenly music. The music heard by Pericles was heard by none but by Pericles. The surprise which it caused him is evinced by the persistence with which he mentions it — 'what music T — ' The music of the spheres! ' — 'Do ye not hear music ?' — 'I hear most heavenly music.'' Lysimachus, though he counsels the rest not to cross but to give way to Pericles, would not feign that he heard what, as a matter of fact, he did not ; his exclamation ' My lord ! ' was neither a ' yes,' nor a ' no,' but left it happily ambiguous whether he had heard or not. ' Do ye not hear music ? ' and ' I hear most heavenly music ' might well have proceeded, both of them, from Pericles. A LOVER S COMPLAINT. 471 A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. Some verbal emendation is required in the third line of the following passage, which is the 241st of the poem ; But, my sweet, what labour is't to leave The thing we have not, mastering what not strives, Playing the place which did no form receive. Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves ? ' Playing the place' is a palpable error ; the genuine participle is 'Flying,' or 'Fleeing,' as we gather almost to a certainty, first, from what follows in this very same stanza. She that her fame so to herself contrives. The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight, And makes her absence valiant, not her might j and, secondly, from what we read in the stanza which follows, And now she would the caged cloister fli/, Whether, however, correction is required a little below in the 271st line. Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst shame, And sweetens, in the suffering pang it bears, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears, 472 HARD KNOTS IN SHAKESPBABB. is problematical. Under the word ' peace ' may be briefly comprehended Love's panoply. The singular number of the verb would be no l3ar, as ' sweetens ' might be syntactically connected with the logical nominative ' love ' rather than with the formal nominative ' arms.' Yet ' Love's arms are proof is a not unlikely reading, seeing that ' proof ' is some- times spelt in the copies ' preeve,' which, especially if the r had been inadvertently omitted (as not unfrequently happens), might easily have palmed itself off on a copyist as ' peace.' 473 INDEX. I. Passages newly corrected. (a) where the mggested emendations are apparently certain. Tempest Measure for Measure Comedy of Errors Midsummer Night's Dream Taming of the Shrew ... Twelfth Night 1 Henry rV 2 Henry IV 1 Henry VI , 2 Henry VI Richard III Troilus and Cressida Coriolanus Borneo and Juliet Julius CsBsar Hamlet Pericles A Lover's Complaint Act I. 2. 386. Act I. 3. 20. Act IV. 3. 13, Act II. 1. 54. Induction. Sc. 1. 17 ; Act I. 2. 7. Act III. 3. 15. Act IV. 1. 31. Act I. 3. 36-37. Act IV. 6. 45. Act IV. 10. 56. Act V. 5. 27-28. Act III. 3. 30. Act III. 1. 190. Act III. 2. 6. Act I, 3. 129, ActV.2. 42. Act I. 2, 1-5 : Act V. Prologue. 23 ; Act V, 1. 174. 241. (hj where the suggested emendations are not improbatle 129. Two Gentlemen of Verona Measure for Measure Comedy of Errors Love's Labour's Lost Act II. 5. 2. Act V. 4 Act I. 2. 126. Act IV. 1. 98. Act III. 1. 74 ; Act IV. 3. 180 ; Act V. 100-106 ; Act V. 2. 65-67, 123. 1. 31, Midsummer Night's Dream Act III. 2. 14 ; Act IV, 1. 150 ; Act V, 1. 59. 474 INDEX. Merchant of Venice As Yon Like It Taming of the Shrew AU's Well that Ends WeU Twelfth Night Winter's Tale King John Richard II 1 Henry IV 2 Henry IV Henry V 1 Henry VI Richard III Henry VIII Troilus and Cressida Coriolanus Timon Julius Ceesar Macbeth Hamlet King Lear Antony and Cleopatra Cymbeline Pericles Act II. 2. 166 I Act III. 3. 26-29. Act LI. 1-5. Prologue. So. 1. 64 : Act I. 2. 29, Act IV. 1. 17-21 ; Act IV. 4. 31 ; Act V. 3. 6, 216. Act III. 4. 86-91. Act I. 2. 273-76, 825 ; Act IV. 4. 250, 592. Act III. 1. 259 ; Act III. 2. 5 ; Act V. 7. 16. Act in. 2. 175-77. Act V. 2. 8. Act II. 4. 409. Act I. 2. 126. Act I. I. 56, 62 ; Act'v. 3. 192. Act I. 2. 64, 101 ; Act I. 3. 113, 188. Act I. 1. 205 ; Act il. 2, 94 ; Act III. 2. 64, 383 ; Act V. 3. 1,2, 108, 130. Act I. 3. 54 ; Act 11^ 3. 141-147. ActL3. 46 ; Act I. 4. 31. Act IV, 3. 134 ; Act-V. 3. 4. Act V. 1.35. Act I. 2. 58 ; Act I. 3. 98 ; Act III. 1 . 130 ; Act in. 4. 130-133 ; Act IV. 2. 22. Act III. 4. 169 ; Act V. 1. 68 ; Act V. 2. 118. Act IV. 2, 57 ; Act V. 3. 129-30. Act I. 5. 48 : Act V. 2. 35S. Act III. 3. 23 ; Act III. 4. 135 ; Act IV. 2. 8, 17. ActL 3.28 ; Act IIL 1. 53. II. Passages needlessly corrbctep in the Shakespeare. Globe ' Tempest Comedy of Errors Merchant of Venice As You Like It Taming of the Shrew All's Well that Ends Well Winter's Tale Act I. 1. 68-70 ; Act I. 2. 173. Act V. 1. 406. Act n. 7. 69 . Act IV. 1. 61. Actn. 4. 1; Aotn. 7. 55. Act in. 2. 16. Act II. 1. 176 ; Act V. 3. 66. Act V. 1. 56-60. INDEX. 475 King John Act V, 6. 12, Richard II Act I. 2. 70 ; Act I. 3. 128 ; Act II. 2, 89-40, 110 J Act V. 1. 25. Henry V ... Act II. 2. 139 ; Act III, 3. 35. Richardlll Act I. 3. 69. Troilua and Gressida Act IV. 5. 59. Coriolanus Act I. 9. 46 , Act III. 1. 131 ; Act III, 3. 130 ; Act IV. 3. 9 ; Act IV. G. 2 : Act V. 1. 16. Titus Andronicus Act III. 1. 282; Act IV. 1. 129; Act IV, 2. 152. Romeo and Juliet Act I. 4. 40-45. Timon Act V. 4. 37, 62. Julius CKsar Act I. 2. 155 ; Act L 3. 65 ; Act IV. 1. 37. Macbeth Act I. 2. 14; Act I. 3. 97 ; Act II, 1, 55, King Lear Act I, 2. 21 ; Act IV. 1. 71. Antony and Cleopatra ... Act II. 2. 53 ; Act III. 11 . 47, Pericles Act I. 1. 17 ; Act II. 1. 56-60. III. Passages needlessly stJSPECTED. Tempest Act I. 2, 29, 307, 488; Act II, 1. 130-31; Act II. 2. 15. Two Gentlemen of Verona Act III. 1. 81 ; ActV. 4. 82-83. Merry Wives of Windsor... Act V. 5. 111. Measure for Measure Act I. 1. 8 ; Actl. .S. 42; Act I. 4. 30 ; Act II. 1. 39 ; Act ill. 2, 275-96. Comedy of Errors Act I, 1. 39 ; Act I. 2. 38 , Act II. 1. 103-115. Much Ado About Nothing Act II. 2. 44 ; Act IV. 1. 157-159. Love's Labour's Lost Act V. 2. 297, 517, 750-754. Midsummer Night's Dream Act IV. 1. 162-163 ; Act V. 1. 92. Merchant of Venice Act I. 1. 35 ; Act III, 2, 99, 160-167 ; Act III. 5. 82. As You Like It Act II, 7. 78 ; Act III. 5. 7, 23 ; Act V. 4. 4. Taming of the Shrew ... Act IV. 2, 61. All's Well that Ends WeU Act I. 1. 179, 237-238, 241 ; Act I, 2, 31-45 ; Act I, 3. 141 ; Act 11. 5. 52. Twelfth Night Actn. 5.71; AotllV. 1.14-15. Winter's Tale Act L 2. 457-60 ; Act II. 1, 133-36; Act III. 2. 60-62. King John Act IIL 3. 89. 476 INDEX, Eiohard II 1 Henry IV 2 Henry IV Henry V 1 Henry VI 2 Henry VI Richard in Henry VIII Troilua and Oreasida... Coriolanus Titus Andronicus Eomeo and Juliet Timon , Julius Caesar Macbetli Hamlet King Lear ...' Othello Antony and Cleopatra Cymbeline Pericles . Act IT. 1. 246-48. , Act I. 1. 5. , Act IV. 1. 50. . Act I. 2. 91-95, 274 ; Act IV. 1. 262. Act V. 3. 71. Act I. 3. 153; ActJI. 1.26. Act V. 3. 173. Act I, 1. 80, 224-26 ; Act V. 3. 11-12. Prologue, line 31 ; lAct III. 2. 210 ; Act III. 3. 4 ; Act IV. 4, 99 ; Act V. 3. 19-22. Act I. 1. 262 ; Act I. 6. 76 ; Act III. 2. 29, 52- 80 ; Act V. 1. 6-9-71 ; Act V. 2. 17. Act II. 3. 126 ; Act III. 1. 170 ; Act IV. 2. 178 ; Act V. 1. 132 ; Act V. 3. 124, Act I. 2. 15, 32-33 | Act II. 2. 39 ; Act II. 5. 15 , Act III. 5. 177-178 ; Act V. 1. 2. Act I. 1. 241 ; Act III, 2. 43 ; Act III. 6, 90 ; Act IV. 3. 223 ; Act V. 2. 8. Act III. 1. 206, 262. Act I. 2. 21, 49 ; Act II. 1. 25 ; Act III. 4. 32, 105 ; Act IV. 3. 15 ; Act V. 4. 11. Act I. 1. 117. Act II. 4. 274 ; Act IV. 3. 21, 33. Act III. 3. 467-469 ; Act III. 4. 121. Act III. 13. 10 ; Act V. 1. 15. Act III. 4. 52, 150 ; Act V. 1. 14 j Act V. 5. 95. Act I. 2. 74 ; Act III. 2. 55 ; Act IV. 1. 11 ; Act V. 1. 209. IV. Passages bequiring elxtoidation not emendation. Tempest Merry Wives of Windsor... Much Ado About Nothing Merchant of Venice... ... As You Like It All's Well that Ends Well Winter's Tale Act III. 1. 15, Act IV. 1. 61. AotL 1. 21 ; Act II. 1.52, 148. Act V, 1. 16. Act IV. I. 880. Act III. 2. 207. Act II. 1. 3. Act II. 1, 143. INDEX. 477 1 Henry IV.. 2 Henry rv,. Riohardlll.. Henry VIII.. Coriolanus .. Julius Cffisar Macbeth King Lear OtheUo... Act V. 2. 77-79. Act IV. 1. 88-96. Act III. 3. 23. Act II. 3. 46 ; Act III. 2. 192. Act III. 2. 126-27 ; Act IV. 7. 28-55. Act II. 1. 15, Act I. 5. 23-26 ; Act IV. 3. 136-37. Act I. 3. 20 i Act II. 2. 176. Act I. 1. 21 ; Act I. 3. 262-263 ; Act IV. 2, 53-56. V. Passages more or less doubtful. Merry Wives of Windsor... Measure for Measure Love's Labour's Lost All's Well that Ends Well Winter's Tale King John 3 Henry VI Troilus and Cressida Timon Julius Csesar Macbeth Hamlet King Lear Othello A Lover's Complaint Act I. 1. 46 ; Act I. 3. 111-112 ; Act II. 1. 224, 228. Act III. 1. 126-128. Act l\. 1. 69 ; Act V. 1. 28 ; Act V. 2. 547. Act IV. 2. 38 . Act IV. 3. 98 ; Aot'lV. 4. 760. Act n. 1. 183-190 ; Act IIL 1. 279-285 ; Act IV. 2. 40-43. Act I. 4. 152-63. Act IV. 5. 103. Act L 2. 73. Act III. 1. 174. ActV. 3. 21. Act L 3, 74; ActI, 4. 37. Act V. 3. 205. Act II. 1. 65. 271. THE END. T; J. BAWLINOg, STEAM PRINTBa, OHBRTSEY.