LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 uio 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 COMEDY OF 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Edited, with Notes, 
 
 WILLIAM J. ROLFE, AM., 
 
 FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
 
 IFITH ENGRA VINGS. 
 
 \ijVo.//o9 0jCf 
 \c,. leib. _,^JJ 
 
 ^^J°^"^.c^c^ 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 1880. 
 

 ENGLISH CLASSICS. 
 
 Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 
 
 Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 70 cents per volume ; Paper, 50 cents per volume. 
 
 Shakespeare's Othello. 
 
 Shakespeare's Much Ado about Noth- 
 
 " Julius Caesar. 
 
 Henry V. 
 
 Richard II. 
 " Merchant of Venice. 
 
 Midsummer - Night's 
 Dream. 
 
 ing. 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 " Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 " Tempest. 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 " Macbeth. 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 "• Hamlet. 
 
 Goldsmith's Select Poems. 
 
 Gray's Select Poems. 
 
 Other volumes in preparation. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 ^^ Any of the above works will he sent by jnail, postage /'repaid, to any part 
 
 of the United States, on receipt of the price. 
 
 Copyright, 1879, by Hakper & Brothers. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The text of this play, like that of its predecessors in the series, has 
 been prepared by carefully collating the early and the modern editions. 
 In doubtful cases I have preferred to adhere to the folio ; but if the 
 reader is less conservative in his tastes, the varia lectiones in the Notes 
 will enable him to modify the text as he pleases. 
 
 In the Notes, besides giving this " variorum" information, I have aimed 
 not only to make the poet's meaning clear, but to illustrate the language 
 and the life of his time. I have also added such aesthetic comments as, 
 from their brevity or their close connection with single passages, were 
 more appropriately put there than in the Introduction. 
 
 I do not assume that all the Notes will be equally interesting or help- 
 ful to every reader; but I hope that no one will turn to them for help 
 without finding it. Neither do I expect that every teacher will make 
 precisely the same use of them ; but I hope that they will enable his pu- 
 pils to do whatever he may require in the study of the play, whether his 
 taste inclines to linguistic or to aesthetic criticism, or is broad enough — 
 as I trust it may be — to include both. 
 
 As I am unable to give pictorial illustrations of Shakespeare's Bohe- 
 mia (except the one on page 9, to which I venture to say no other " local 
 habitation " can be assigned), I have asked the publishers to insert a few 
 that belong to the real Bohemia of that day. The royal palace and the 
 cathedral at Prague were old buildings even then ; but the portal to the 
 former (see p. 41) was designed by Scamozzi, and the royal mausoleum 
 in the latter (p. vi) was the work of Colin of Malines, both of whom were 
 contemporaries of the poet. 
 
 Cambridge, Sept. 26, 1 879. 
 
ROYAL MAUSOLEUM IN THE CATHEDRAL AT PRAGUE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction to The Winter's Tale 9 
 
 I. The History of the Play 9 
 
 II. The Sources of the Plot 12 
 
 III. Critical Comments on the Play 13 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE 39 
 
 Act 1 41 
 
 " n 59 
 
 " III 76 
 
 " IV ' 90 
 
 " V 124 
 
 Notes 145 
 
ROYAL OKATORY IN THE CATHEDRAL AT PRAGUE (14TH CENTURY 
 
A SEAPORT IN BOHEMIA. 
 
 What country, friends, is this? {T. N. i. 2. 1). 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. 
 
 77ie Wmte?''s Tale, so far as we have any knowledge, was 
 first printed in the folio of 1623, where it is the last of the 
 "Comedies," occupying pages 277 to 303 inclusive. 
 
 Malone found a memorandum in the Office Book of Sir 
 Henry Herbert, the Master of the Revels, which he gives 
 (see Var. of 182 1, vol. iii. p. 229) as follows : 
 
 "For the king's players. An olde playe called Winter's 
 Tale, formerly allowed of by Sir George Bucke, and likewyse 
 by mee on Mr. Hemmings his worde that there was nothing 
 profane added or reformed, thogh the allowed booke was 
 missinge , and therefore I returned it without a fee, this 
 19 of August, 1623." 
 
 Malone also discovered that Sir George Buck did not ob- 
 
lo THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 tain full possession of his office as Master of the Revels un- 
 til August, 1610;* and he therefore conjectured that The 
 Winter's Tale "was originally licensed in the latter part of 
 that year or the beginning of the next." This date is con- 
 firmed by the MS. Diary of Dr. Simon Forman, since dis- 
 covered (see our ed. of Richard II. p. 13, and cf. M. N. D. 
 p. 10), which contains the following reference to the acting 
 of " the Winters Talle at the glob, 161 1, the 15 of maye :" t 
 
 "Obserue ther howe Lyontes the kinge of Cicillia was 
 overcom with lelosy of his wife, with the kinge of Bohemia, 
 his frind, that came to see him, and howe he contriued his 
 death, and wold haue had his cup-berer to haue poisoned, 
 \_sic\ who gaue the king of bohemia warning ther-of, & fled 
 with him to bohemia / Remember also howe he sent to the 
 Orakell of appollo, & the Aunswer of apollo that she was 
 giltles, and that the king was lelouse, &c, and howe Except 
 the child was found Again that was loste, the kinge should 
 die with-out yssue, for the child was caried into bohemia, & 
 ther laid in a forrest, & brought vp by a sheppard. And the 
 kinge of bohemia his sonn maried that wentch, & howe they 
 fled in Cicillia to Leontes, and the sheppard hauing showed 
 the letter of the nobleman by whom Leontes sent a \sic\ 
 was that child, and the lewelles found about her. she was 
 knowen to be leontes daughter, and was then 16 yers old. 
 
 Remember also the Rog. that cam in all tottered like 
 coll pixel / and howe he feyned him sicke & to haue bin 
 Robbed of all that he had, and how he cosoned the por 
 man of all his money, and after cam to the shop sher$ with 
 a pedlers packe, & ther cosoned them Again of all ther 
 money. And howe he changed apparrell with the kinge of 
 
 * The Stationers' Registers show, however, that he had practically the 
 control of the office from the year 1607. 
 
 t We give the passage as printed in the Transactions of the N'ezu Shak- 
 spere Society, 1875-76, p. 416. 
 
 X That is, sheep-shearing. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 1 1 
 
 bomia his sonn, and then hovve he turned Courtiar, &c / 
 beware of trustinge feined beggars or fawninge fellouse." 
 
 The following entry in the Accounts of the Revels, quoted 
 by most of the editors, has been proved to be a forgery, like 
 the similar entries concerning The TeiJipest (see our ed. p. 8), 
 The Merchant of Veiiice (p. 19), and other of Shakespeare's 
 plays : 
 
 The Kings The 5th of Nouember [1611]; A play 
 
 players. called y' winters nightes Tayle. 
 
 The internal tests, metrical, sesthetic, and other, all tend 
 to show that the play was one of the poet's last productions. 
 Dowden {Shakspere Primer, p. 151), says of it: "The versi- 
 fication is that of Shakspere's latest group of plays ; no five- 
 measure lines are rhymed ; run-on lines and double-endings 
 are numerous. The tone and feeling of The Winter's Talc 
 place it in the same period with The Tempest and Cymheline ; 
 its breezy air is surely that which blew over Warwickshire 
 fields upon Shakspere now returned to Stratford ; its country 
 lads and lasses, and their junketings, are those with which 
 the poet had in a happy spirit renewed his acquaintance. 
 This is perhaps the last complete play that Shakspere wrote." 
 
 It may be noted here that Ben Jonson has a little fling 
 at The Winter's Tale in the Induction of his Bartholomew 
 Fair, published in 1614: "If there be never a Servant- 
 Monster i' the fayre, who can helpe it, he sayes ; nor a nest 
 of Antiques? He is loth to make nature afraid in his playes, 
 like those that beget Tales, Tempests, and such like Drol- 
 leries." The " antiques," or antics, are evidently the dancing 
 Satyrs of iv. 4, as the "servant-monster" is the Caliban of 
 The Tempest (see our ed. of that play, p. 8). 
 
 The Winter's Tale is one of the most carefully printed 
 plays in the folio, even the punctuation being exceptionally 
 accurate. The style presents unusual difficulties, being more 
 elliptical, involved,, and perplexing than that of any other 
 
12 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 work of Shakespeare's. Under the circumstances, as White 
 remarks, " it is rather surprising that the text has come down 
 to us in so pure a state ; and the absolute incomprehensibil- 
 ity of one or two passages may safely be attributed to the 
 attempt, on the part of the printers, to correct that which 
 they thought corrupt in their copy, but which was only ob- 
 scure." 
 
 II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. 
 
 The story of The Wi7iter's Tale is taken from Robert 
 Greene's History of Dorastus and Fawnia, which appeared 
 first in 1588, under the title oi Fandosto, and passed through 
 several editions. Shakespeare follows the novel in most 
 particulars, but varies from it in a few of some importance. 
 For instance, in the story as told by Greene, Bellaria (Her- 
 mione) dies upon hearing of the loss of her son ; and Pan- 
 dosto (Leontes) falls in love with his own daughter, and is 
 finally seized with a kind of melancholy or madness, in 
 which he kills himself The poet appears to have changed 
 the denouement because he was writing a comedy, not a 
 tragedy. 
 
 One of the minor incidents may possibly have been altered 
 for another reason. In Fandosto the daughter of the king is 
 cast adrift at sea in a rudderless boat. Collier suggests that 
 this was changed in The Winter's Tale because in The Tem- 
 pest the same incident had already been used in the case of 
 Prospero and Miranda. The two plays are undoubtedly of 
 nearly the same date, but, as Gervinus observes, this altera- 
 tion in the story does not prove that The Teinpest was writ- 
 ten first, but only indicates that the plan of both pieces was 
 sketched at the same time. 
 
 We need hardly add that the poet's indebtedness to the 
 novelist, as in so many other cases of the kind, is really in- 
 significant. "Whatever the merits of Greene's work— and 
 it is a good tale of its sort and its time, though clumsily and 
 pedantically told — they are altogether different in kind (we 
 
INTR OD UCTION. 1 3 
 
 will not consider the question of degree) from the merits 
 of Shakespeare. ' In characterization of personages the tale 
 is notably coarse and commonplace, in thought arid and 
 barren, and in language alternately meagre and inflated; 
 whereas there are few more remarkable creations in all lit- 
 erature than Hermione, Perdita, Autolycus, Paulina, not to 
 notice minor characters; and its teeming wealth of wisdom, 
 and the daring and dainty beauty of its poetry, give the play 
 a high place in the second rank of Shakespeare's works. 
 Briefly, it is the old story over again : the dry stick that 
 seems to bloom and blossom is but hidden by the leafy 
 luxuriance and floral splendour of the plant that has been 
 trained upon it" (White). 
 
 III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
 {^From Ulrici' s *'■ Shakspeare' s D7-amatic Art.^'' *'\ 
 The general foundation and plan of the whole— the jeal- 
 ousy of Leontes, the seclusion of the Queen and the repent- 
 ance of her husband, the young Prince's love for the exceed- 
 ingly beautiful shepherdess, etc. — although unusual, are nev- 
 ertheless in accordance with reality; the characters, also, 
 are consistently developed, without sudden changes and 
 psychological improbabilities. Individual features, however, 
 are all the more fantastic. We have here the full sway of 
 accident and caprice in the concatenation of events, circum- 
 stances, and relations ; every thing is removed from common 
 experience. Not only is Delphos spoken of as an island 
 and Bohemia as a maritime country (local reality, therefore, 
 disregarded), but the reality of time also is completely set 
 aside, inasmuch as the Delphic oracle is made to exist con- 
 temporaneously with Russian emperors and the great paint- 
 er Julio Romano ; in fact, the heroic age and the times 
 of chivalry, the ancient customs of mythical religion, and 
 
 ^ S/iakspeare's Dramatic Art, by Dr. Hermann Ulrici ; translated from 
 the third German ed. by L. D. Schmitz (London, 1876), vol. ii. p. 30 fol. 
 
14 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Christianity with its institutions are brought together sans 
 ch'hnonie. It is a matter of accident that the death of the 
 Crown Prince is announced simultaneously with the utter- 
 ance of the oracle, and that the condition of the Queen ap- 
 pears like actual death. It is purely an accident that the 
 babe is saved at the very moment that the nobleman who 
 exposed it is torn to pieces by a bear, and that his ship, with 
 all on board, is lost, so that no tidings could be carried back 
 to Sicilia. It is mere accident that the young Prince of 
 Bohemia strays into woods, and meets the shepherds with 
 whom the Princess is living. In the end similar freaks of 
 chance repair the results of the first accidents, bring all 
 the dramatic personages together in Sicilia, put every thing 
 into its proper order, and bring about a happy conclusion. 
 As, therefore, the unreal, the fantastic, is here expressed in 
 individual features rather than in the general fundamental 
 relations of the play, so it is also more the interaction of ex- 
 ternal matters of chance that governs the whole and solves 
 the contradiction of opinions and intentions, of deeds and 
 events ; thus, in spite of all the apparent impossibilities, that 
 which is rational and right is ultimately brought about. 
 
 It is just this sovereignty of eternal contingency, however, 
 that gives the play the character of a tale and its title. For 
 pure contingency — in its outward, objective form, which, as 
 such, interrupts the order of nature, the given disposition of 
 time and space, the causal connection of things, and comes 
 in between like a foreign element — stands in the closest 
 affinity to the idea of the marvellous. A tale or fairy tale, 
 however, does not, as might be supposed, assume the won- 
 derful merely as a form or outward dress j the wonderful is 
 rather an essential element in it, because it is itself essen- 
 tially based upon the mystic v\ev^ of things, which looks upon 
 life only as the outward form of a deep, unrevealable mys- 
 tery, to which every thing, therefore, appears an inexplicable 
 wonder. Accordingly, that which in common life-^in our 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 15 
 
 ignorance of its cause and necessity — we call chance, is 
 made the ruling principle of the tale or fairy tale, and, in 
 order that the principle, as such, may also be clearly and 
 distinctly brought forward, it presents itself in strange, ar- 
 bitrary, and fantastic shapes, in outward forms opposed to 
 common reality. What is fairy-tale-like in character is, on 
 this very account, a legitimate ingredient in the comic view 
 of life, but ofily in the comic view ; a tragic fairy tale would 
 be a poetical monstrosity.* In The Winter's Tale, however, 
 Shakspeare has not opened up the whole region of the mar- 
 vellous ; he has described the wonderful, not so much in its 
 outer form as in its ideal nature and character. In fact, it 
 exists here only in the incomprehensibility of outward con- 
 tingency and the mysterious connection of the latter with 
 the actions and fortunes of the dramatic characters. By thus 
 modifying the idea Shakspeare has brought the whole nearer 
 to the common reality of life, and enhances the effect by the 
 greater illusion, for, in fact, a tale gains in poetic beauty 
 when the representation of the marvellous is introduced 
 noiselessly, as if it were the most ordinary of occurrences. 
 
 Shakspeare has here again, I think, intimated by the title 
 of his play in what sense he took up and worked upon 
 Greene's romance. He could hardly have intended merely 
 to dramatize a traditional tale ; the play is not called "^ 
 Winter's Tale," but ''The Winter's Tale." The poet's in- 
 tention here was again, as it were, to hold the mirror up to 
 nature, to show the body of the time its pressure. In other 
 words, he wished to show that from a certain point of view 
 life itself appears like a strange, cheerful, and yet eerie win- 
 ter's tale — a tale told to a circle of poetically disposed lis- 
 teners gathered round the flickering fireside of a peaceful, 
 happy home, on a raw winter's night, by a master in the art 
 of story-telling, while the atmosphere of the warm, secure,- 
 
 * Accordingly the alterations which Shakspeare made in Greene's 
 novel were artistically necessary. 
 
1 6 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 and joyous assembly mixes with the terrors of the advent- 
 ures narrated, and with the cold, dismal night outside. It 
 becomes this solely by the mysterious veil that envelops 
 the power of chance which is spread over the whole. It is 
 /-cheerful because through this veil we everywhere get a glim- 
 mer of the light of a future which is leading all towards what 
 is good, and because we everywhere feel that the dismal 
 darkness of the present will be cleared off by a necessity 
 which, even though equally dark, is internal. And yet a 
 gentle shudder runs through our frame . .'. when we behold 
 how, owing to the mysterious connection in the power of 
 evil, mischief follows close upon the footsteps of sin, threat- 
 ening the welfare of the whole kingdom ; and again when 
 we behold how accident, as the avenging angel, seizes and 
 destroys even the unwilling tools of crime, and how this 
 complication of crimes even threatens to disturb the peace- 
 ful, innocent happiness of the old shepherd and his family. 
 
 It is self-evident that when life appears like a strange win- 
 ter's tale, the conception cannot and should not be regarded 
 as the plain and absolute truth. Shakspeare's intention 
 was rather to set forward but one side, one element of the 
 whole which is but little taken into consideration. And, in 
 fact, this view of life contains the profound truth that life 
 does not present itself to man only in its undimmed trans- 
 parency and perfect clearness, like a bright, cheerful sum- 
 mer's day, but that it is enveloped in a mysterious, irremov- 
 able veil, and governed by a power that cannot always be 
 recognized. Shakspeare does not forget to point to the fact 
 that the only means a man has of protecting himself from 
 this dark power is by strict adherence to the moral law and 
 to the ethical order of the universe, and that, on the other 
 hand, he inevitably falls a prey to it by wandering from the 
 right path, by passion and want of self-control, and thus 
 becomes a play-ball to its good or bad humours. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 YFroni Gervimis's ^'■Shakespeare Cotnvientariesy *'\ 
 Shakespeare has treated Greene's narrative in the way he 
 has usually dealt with his bad originals — he has done away 
 with some indelicacy in the matter, and some unnatural 
 things in the form ; he has given a better foundation to the 
 characters and course of events ; but to impart an intrinsic 
 value to the subject as a wdiole, to bring a double action into 
 unity, and to give to the play the character of a regular 
 drama by mere arrangements of matter and alteration of 
 motive was not possible. The wildness of the fiction, the 
 improbability and contingency of the events, the gap in the 
 time which divides the two actions between two generations, 
 could not be repaired by any art. Shakespeare, therefore, 
 began upon his theme in quite an opposite direction. He 
 increased still more the marvellous and miraculous in the 
 given subject, he disregarded more and more the require- 
 ments of the real and probable, and treated time, place, and 
 circumstances with the utmost arbitrariness. He added the 
 character of Antigonus and his death by the bear, Paulina 
 and her second marriage in old age, the pretended death and 
 the long forbearance and preservation of Hermione, Autoly- 
 cus and his cunning tricks, and he increased thereby the 
 improbable circumstances and strange incidents. He over- 
 leaped all limits, mixing up together Russian emperors and 
 the Delphic oracle and Julio Romano, chivalry and heathen- 
 dom, ancient forms of religion and Whitsuntide pastorals. 
 Greene had already taught him to pay no attention to prob- 
 ability with regard to place, since in his narrative reference 
 had already been made to the sea-shore in Bohemia and to 
 the isla7id of Delphos. Added to this, there are mistakes in 
 the style of those of Cervantes, where the theft of Sancho 
 Panza's ass is forgotten. Prince Florizel, who (iv. 4) appears 
 * Shakespeare Commentaries, by Dr. G. G. Gervinus, translated F. E. 
 Bunnett : revised ed. (London, 1875), p. 802 fol. 
 
 B 
 
1 8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 in shepherd's clothes^ exchanges immediately afterwards his 
 court garments with Autolycus in the same scene; the old 
 shepherd (iii. 3) knows at once, but whence does not appear, 
 that the slaughtered Antigonus was an old man. Jonson 
 and Dryden have made all this of far too much consequence, 
 even while laughing at it. Pope has even doubted the gen- 
 uineness of the play. The scenic effect, the excellent char- 
 acterization of certain personages, and the beauty of the lan- 
 guage of the play were acknowledged, but the poet was con- 
 tinually upbraided for those very marvels which, in our opin- 
 ion, he only intended as such. Three times in the play, and 
 once for all in the title, he dwelt as emphatically as possible 
 on the fictitious character of the play, which is wholly found- 
 ed on the incredible and improbable. If we will dispute 
 with him, it must be on the one point only — whether fictions 
 be admissible on the stage or not. We must not criticise 
 mistakes here and there, which, if that admissibility be al- 
 lowed, may well have. been purposed by the poet. . . . 
 
 While Shakespeare has at other times permitted in his 
 dramas the existence of a twofold action, connected by a 
 common idea, it was not necessary in the instance before us 
 to sever the wasplike body of Greene's story, nor could he 
 have entirely concentrated the two actions; he could but 
 connect them indistinctly by a leading idea in both, although 
 the manner in which he has outwardly connected them is a 
 delicate and spirited piece of art, uniting, as he has done, 
 tragedy and comedy, making the one elevate the other, and 
 thus enriching the stage with a tragi-comic pastoral, a com- 
 bination wholly unknown even to the good Polonius. . . . 
 
 Shakespeare has written little that can compare with the 
 fourth act of The Winter's Tale for variety, liveliness, and 
 beauty. But the fifth act rises still higher in the magic scene 
 of the reanimation of Hermione and the description of the 
 recognition that precedes it. The poet has wisely placed 
 this event behind the scenes, otherwise the play would have 
 
INTRODUCriOAr, ^^ 
 
 been too full of powerful scenes. " The dignit}^ of this act," 
 it is said, " was worth the audience of kings and princes; but 
 the actors, too, who should play these scenes worthily, ought 
 to be kings." The mere relation of this meeting is in itself 
 a rare masterpiece of prose description. 
 
 \Frovi Mrs. Javiesoii's " Characteristics of IVomeji.^^*] 
 
 The story of Florizel and Perdita is but an episode in T/ie 
 Winter's 7ale, and the character of Perdita is properly kept 
 subordinate to that of her mother, Hermione; yet the picture 
 is perfectly finished in every part; Juliet herself is not more 
 firmly and distinctly drawn. . . . 
 
 The qualities which impart to Perdita her distinct individ- 
 uality are the beautiful combination of the pastoral with the 
 elegant — of simplicity with elevation — of spirit with sweet- 
 ness. The exquisite delicacy of the picture is apparent. To 
 understand and appreciate its effective truth and nature, we 
 should place Perdita beside some of the nymphs of Arcadia, 
 or the Chlorises and Sylvias of the Italian pastorals, who, how- 
 ever graceful in themselves, when opposed to Perdita seem 
 to melt away into mere poetical abstractions; as, in Spenser, 
 the fair but fictitious Florimel, which the subtle enchantress 
 had moulded out of snow, "vermeil-tinctured," and informed 
 with an airy spirit that knew " all wiles of woman's wits," 
 fades and dissolves away when placed next to the real Flori- 
 mel, in her warm, breathing, human loveliness. 
 
 Perdita does not appear till the fourth act, and the whole 
 of the character is developed in the course of a single scene 
 (the fourth) with a completeness of efiect which leaves noth- 
 ing to be required — nothing to be supplied. She is first in- 
 troduced in the dialogue between herself and Florizel, where 
 she compares her own lowly state to his princely rank, and 
 expresses her fears of the issue of their unequal attachment. 
 With all her timidity and her sense of the distance which 
 * American ed. (Boston, 1857), pp. 173 fol. and 222 fo!. 
 
20 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 separates her from her lover, she breathes not a single word 
 which could lead us to impugn either her delicacy or her 
 dignity. 
 
 The impression of her perfect beauty and airy elegance 
 of demeanour is conveyed in two exquisite passages : 
 
 " What you do 
 Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 
 I 'd have you do it ever : when you sing, 
 I 'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, 
 Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs. 
 To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you 
 A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 
 Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own 
 No other function." 
 
 " I take thy hand, this hand. 
 As soft as dove's down, and as white as it. 
 Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow 
 That 's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'erj' 
 
 The artless manner in which her innate nobility of soul 
 shines forth through her pastoral disguise is thus brought 
 before us at once : 
 
 " This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 
 Ran on the green-sward ; nothing she does or seems 
 But smacks of something greater than herself, 
 Too noble for this place." 
 
 Her natural loftiness of spirit breaks out where she is 
 menaced and reviled by the King, as one whom his son has 
 degraded himself by merely looking on. She bears the royal 
 frown without quailing ; but the moment he is gone the im-' 
 mediate recollection of herself, and of her humble state, of 
 her hapless love, is full of beauty, tenderness, and nature : 
 
 " Even here undone ! 
 I was much afeard ; for once or twice, 
 I was about to speak and tell him plainly, 
 The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 
 Hides not his visage from our cottage, but 
 Looks on alike. Will 't please you, sir, be gone ? 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 I told you what would come of this. Beseech you, 
 Of your own state take care ; this dream of mine, — 
 Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther, 
 But milk my ewes and weep." 
 
 " How often have I told you 't would be thus ! 
 How often said, my dignity would last 
 But till 't were known !" 
 
 Perdita has another characteristic, which lends to the poet- 
 ical delicacy of the delineation a certain strength and moral 
 elevation which is peculiarly striking. It is that sense of 
 truth and rectitude, that upright simplicity of mind, which 
 disdains all crooked and indirect means, which would not 
 stoop for an instant to dissemblance, and is mingled with a 
 noble confidence in her love and in her lover. In this spirit 
 is her answer to Camillo, who says, courtier-like : 
 
 "Besides you know 
 Prosperity 's the very bond of love, 
 ^¥hose fresh complexion and whose heart together 
 Affliction alters." 
 
 To which she replies : 
 
 " One of these is true ; 
 I think affliction may subdue the cheek. 
 But not take in the mind." 
 
 This love of truth, this cofiscie?itiousness, which forms so dis- 
 tinct a feature in the character of Perdita, and mingles with 
 its picturesque delicacy a certain firmness and dignity, is 
 maintained consistently to the last. When the two lovers 
 fly together from Bohemia, and take refuge in the court of 
 Leontes, the real father of Perdita, Florizel presents himself 
 before the King with a feigned tale, in which he has been 
 artfully instructed by the old counsellor Camillo. During 
 this scene, Perdita does not utter a word. In the strait in 
 which they are placed, she cannot deny the story which 
 Florizel relates — she will not confirm it. Her silence, in 
 spite of all the compliments and greetings of Leontes, has a 
 peculiar and characteristic grace; and, at the conclusion of 
 
2 2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 the scene, when they are betrayed, the truth bursts from her 
 as if instinctively, and she exclaims, with emotion : 
 
 " The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have 
 Our contract celebrated," 
 
 After this scene, Perdita says very little. The description 
 of her grief, while listening to the relation of her mother's 
 death, — 
 
 " One of the prettiest touches of all . . . was when, at the relation of 
 the queen's death, with the manner how she came to 't . . . how at- 
 tentiveness wounded her daughter ; till, from one sign of dolour to 
 another, she did, with an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears," — 
 
 her deportment, too, as she stands gazing on the statue of 
 Hermione, fixed in wonder, admiration, and sorrow, as if she 
 
 too were marble, — 
 
 " O royal piece ! 
 There 's magic in thy majesty, which has 
 From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, 
 Standing like stone with thee," — 
 
 are touches of character conveyed indirectly, and which serve 
 to give a more finished effect to the beautiful picture. . . . 
 
 The character of Hermione exhibits what is never found 
 in the other sex, but rarely in our own, yet sometimes — dig- 
 nity without pride, love without passion, and tenderness with- 
 out weakness. To conceive a character in which there enters 
 so much of the negative, required perhaps no rare and aston- 
 ishing effort of genius, such as created a Juliet, a Miranda, 
 or a Lady Macbeth ; but to delineate such a character in the 
 poetical form, to develop it through the medium of action 
 and dialogue, without the aid of description ; to preserve its 
 tranquil, mild, and serious beauty, its unimpassioned dignity, 
 and at the same time keep the strongest hold upon our sym- 
 pathy and our imagination ; and out of this exterior calm 
 produce the most profound pathos, the most vivid impression 
 of life and internal power — it is this which renders the char- 
 acter of Hermione one of Shakspeare's masterpieces. 
 
introduction: 23"^ 
 
 Hermione is a queen, a matron, and a mother; she is good 
 and beautiful, and royally descended. A majestic sweetness, 
 a grand and gracious simplicity, an easy, unforced, yet digni- 
 fied self-possession, are in all her deportment, and in every 
 word she utters. She is one of those characters of whom it 
 has been said proverbially that "still waters run deep," Her 
 passions are not vehement, but in her settled mind the sources 
 of pain or pleasure, love or resentment, are like the springs 
 that feed the mountain lakes, impenetrable, unf^athomable, 
 and inexhaustible. 
 
 Shakspeare has conveyed (as is his custom) a part of the 
 character of Hermione in scattered touches and through the 
 impressions which she produces on all around her. Her 
 surpassing beauty is alluded to in few but strong terms : 
 
 "This jealousy 
 Is for a precious creature ; as she is rare 
 Must it be great. 
 
 Praise her but for this her out-door form 
 (Which, on my faith, deserves high speech)." 
 
 " If, one by one, you wedded all the world, 
 Or from the all that are took something good 
 To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd 
 Would be unparallel'd." 
 
 " I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, 
 Have taken treasure from her lips . . . 
 
 and left them 
 More rich for what they yielded." 
 
 The expressions "most sacred lady," "dread mistress," 
 "sovereign," with which she is addressed or alluded to, the 
 boundless devotion and respect of those around her, and 
 their confidence in her goodness and innocence, are so many 
 additional strokes in the portrait. . . . 
 
 She receives the first intimation of her husband's jealous 
 suspicions with incredulous astonishment. It is not that, 
 like Desdemona, she does not or cannot understand; but she 
 
24 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 will not. When he accuses her more plainly, she replies 
 with a calm dignity : 
 
 " Should a villain say so, 
 The most replenish'd villain in the world, 
 He were as much more villain ; you, my lord, 
 Do but mistake." 
 
 This characteristic composure of temper never forsakes 
 her; and yet it is so delineated that the impression is that 
 of grandeur, and never borders upon pride or coldness : it 
 is the fortitude of a gentle but a strong mind, conscious of 
 its own innocence. Nothing can be more affecting than 
 her calm reply to Leontes, who, in his jealous rage, heaps 
 insult upon insult, and accuses her before her own attend- 
 ants as no better " than one of those to whom the vulgar 
 give bold titles." 
 
 " How will this grieve you. 
 When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that 
 You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord, 
 You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
 You did mistake." 
 
 Her mild dignity and saintlike patience, combined as they 
 are with the strongest sense of the cruel injustice of her 
 husband, thrill us with admiration as well as pity ; and we 
 cannot but see and feel that for Hermione to give way to 
 tears and feminine complaints under such a blow would be 
 quite incompatible with the character. Thus she says of 
 herself, as she is led to prison : 
 
 ''There 's some ill planet reigns; 
 I must be patient till the heavens look 
 With an aspect more favourable. — Good my lords, 
 I am not prone to weeping, as our sex 
 Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew 
 Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have 
 That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns 
 Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 With thought so qualified as your charities 
 Shall best instruct you, measure me ; — and so 
 The king's will be perform'd !" 
 
 When she is brought to trial for supposed crimes, called 
 on to defend herself, "standing to prate and talk for life and 
 honour, before who please to come and hear," the sense of her 
 ignominious situation — all its shame and all its horror press 
 upon her, and would apparently crush even her magnanimous 
 spirit but for the consciousness of her own worth and in- 
 nocence, and the necessity that exists for asserting and de- 
 fending both. . . . 
 
 The character of Hermione is considered open to criticism 
 on one point. I have heard it remarked that when she se- 
 cludes herself from the world for sixteen years, during which 
 time she is mourned as dead by her repentant husband, 
 and is not won to relent from her resolve by his sorrow, his 
 remorse, his constancy to her memory, — such conduct is 
 unfeeling as it is inconceivable in a tender and virtuous 
 woman. . . . The incident of Hermione's supposed death 
 and concealment for sixteen years is not indeed very prob- 
 able in itself, nor very likely to occur in every-day life. But, 
 besides all the probability necessary for the purposes of 
 poetry, it has all the likelihood it can derive from the pe- 
 culiar character of Hermione, who is precisely the woman 
 who could and would have acted in this manner. In such a 
 mind as hers, the sense of a cruel injury, inflicted by one she 
 had loved and trusted, without awakening any violent anger or 
 any desire of vengeance, would sink deep — almost incurably 
 and lastingly deep. So far she is most unlike either Imogen 
 or Desdemona, who are portrayed as much more flexible 
 in temper; but then the circumstances under which she is 
 wronged are very different, and far more unpardonable. The 
 self-created, frantic jealousy of Leontes is very distinct from 
 that of Othello, writhing under the arts of lago; or that of 
 Posthumus, whose understanding has been cheated by the 
 
26 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 most damning evidence of his wife's infidelity. The jealousy 
 which in Othello and Posthumus is an error of judgment, in 
 , Leontes is a vice of the blood ; he suspects without cause, 
 condemns without proof; he is without excuse — unless the 
 mixture of pride, passion, and imagination, and the predispo- 
 sition to jealousy, with which Shakspeare has portrayed him, 
 be considered as an excuse. Hermione has been openly in- 
 sulted : he to whom she gave herself, her heart, her soul, has 
 stooped to the weakness and baseness of suspicion ; has 
 doubted her truth, has wronged her love, has sunk in her es- 
 teem, and forfeited her confidence. She has been branded 
 with vile names ; her son, her eldest hope, is dead — dead 
 through the false accusation which has stuck infamy on his 
 mother's name; and her innocent babe, stained with illegitima- 
 cy, disowned and rejected, has been exposed to a cruel death. 
 Can we believe that the mere tardy acknowledgment of her 
 innocence could make amends for wrongs and agonies such 
 as these ? or heal a heart which must have bled inwardly, 
 consumed by that untold grief "which burns worse than tears 
 drown?" Keeping in view the peculiar character of Her- 
 mione, such as she is delineated, is she one either to forgive 
 hastily or forget quickly ? and though she might, in her soli- 
 tude, mourn over her repentant husband, would his repent- 
 ance suffice to restore him at once to his place in her heart; 
 to efface from her strong and reflecting mind the recollection 
 of his miserable weakness? or can we fancy this high-souled 
 woman— left childless through the injury which has been in- 
 flicted on her, widov/ed in heart by the unworthiness of him 
 she loved, a spectacle of grief to all, to her husband a con- 
 tinual reproach and humiliation— walking through the parade 
 of royalty in the court which had witnessed her anguish, her 
 shame, her degradation, and her despair ? Methinks that the 
 want of feeling, nature, delicacy, and consistency would lie in 
 such an exhibition as this. In a mind like Hermione's, where 
 the strength of feeling is founded in the power of thought, and 
 
INTR OD UC TION. 2 7 
 
 where there is little of impulse or imagination — " the depth, 
 but not the tumult, of the soul"*— there are but two influ 
 ences which predominate over the will— time and religion. 
 And what then remained but that, wounded in heart and 
 spirit, she should retire from the world ? — not to brood over 
 her wrongs, but to study forgiveness, and wait the fulfilment 
 of the oracle which had promised the termination of her sor- 
 rows. Thus a premature reconciliation would not only have 
 been painfully inconsistent with the character ; it would also 
 have deprived us of that most beautiful scene in which Her- 
 mione is discovered to her husband as the statue or image of 
 herself And here we have another instance of that admi- 
 rable art with which the dramatic character is fitted to the 
 circumstances in which it is placed : that perfect command 
 over her own feelings, that complete self-possession necessary 
 to this extraordinary situation, is consistent with all that we 
 imagine of Hermione; in any other woman it would be so 
 incredible as to shock all our ideas of probability. . . . 
 
 The effect produced on the different persons of the drama 
 by this living statue — an effect which at the same moment is 
 and is not illusion — the manner in which the feelings of the 
 spectators become entangled between the conviction of death 
 and the impression of life, the idea of a deception and the 
 feeling of a reality; and the exquisite colouring of poetry and 
 touches of natural feeling with which the whole is wrought 
 up, till wonder, expectation, and intense pleasure hold our 
 pulse and breath suspended on the event — are quite inim- 
 itable. . . . 
 
 The moment when Hermione descends from her pedes- 
 tal, to the sound of soft music, and throws herself, without 
 
 *"The gods approve 
 The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul."— Wordsworth. 
 
 " II pouvait y avoir des vagues majestueuses et non de I'orage dans son 
 ccEur," was finely observed of Madame de Stael in her maturer years; it 
 would have been true of Hermione at any period of her life. 
 
28 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 speaking, into her husband's arms, is one of inexpressible 
 interest. It appears to me that her silence during the 
 whole of this scene (except where she invokes a blessing 
 on her daughter's head) is in the finest taste as a poetical 
 beauty, besides being an admirable trait of character. The 
 misfortunes of Hermione, her long religious seclusion, the 
 w^onderful and almost supernatural part she has just enact- 
 ed, have invested her with such a sacred and awful charm 
 that any words put into her mouth must, I think, have in- 
 jured the solemn and profound pathos of the situation. 
 
 There are several among Shakspeare's characters which 
 exercise a far stronger power over our feelings, our fancy, 
 our understanding, than that of Hermione j but not one — 
 unless perhaps Cordelia — constructed upon so high and 
 pure a principle. It is the union of gentleness with power 
 which constitutes the perfection of mental grace. Thus 
 among the ancients, with whom the graces were also the 
 charities (to show, perhaps, that while form alone may con- 
 stitute beauty, sentiment is necessary to grace), one and 
 the same word signified equally strength and virtue. This 
 feeling, carried into the fine arts, was the secret of the an- 
 tique grace — the grace of repose. The same eternal nat- 
 ure — the same sense of immutable truth and beauty, which 
 revealed this sublime principle of art to the ancient Greeks, 
 revealed it to the genius of Shakspeare ; and the character 
 of Hermione, in which we have the same largeness of con- 
 ception and delicacy of execution — the same effect of suf- 
 fering without passion, and grandeur without effort — is an 
 instance, I think, that he felt within himself, and by intuition, 
 what we study all our lives in the remains of ancient art. 
 The calm, regular, classical beauty of Hermione's character 
 is the more impressive from the wild and Gothic accompani- 
 ments of her story, and the beautiful relief afforded by the 
 pastoral and romantic grace which is thrown around her 
 daughter, Perdita. 
 
INTR on UC TIOiV. 2 9 
 
 [From DowdeiCs '''■Shakspere?''*'\ 
 
 The plays belonging to Shakspere's final period of au- 
 thorship, which I shall consider, are three : Cymbeline^ The 
 Winter's Tale, and The Tempest. The position in which 
 they were placed in the first Folio (whether it was the re- 
 sult of design or accident) is remarkable. The Winter's 
 Tale is the last of the comedies, which all lie between this 
 play and The Tempest. The circumstance may have been 
 a piece of accident ; but if so, it was a lucky accident, 
 which suggests* that our first and our last impression of 
 Shakspere shall be that of Shakspere in his period of large, 
 serene wisdom, and that in the light of the clear and sol- 
 emn vision of his closing years all his writings shall be 
 read. Characteristics of versification and style, and the 
 enlarged place given to scenic spectacle, indicate that these 
 plays were produced much about the same time. But the 
 ties of deepest kinship between them are spiritual. There 
 is a certain romantic element in each.f They receive con- 
 tributions from every portion of Shakspere's genius, but all 
 are mellowed, refined, made exquisite ; they avoid the ex- 
 tremes of broad humour and of tragic intensity ; they were 
 written with less of passionate concentration than the plays 
 which immediately precede them, but with more of a spirit 
 of deep or exquisite recreation. . . . 
 
 The period of the tragedies was ended. In the tragedies 
 Shakspere had made his inquisition into the mystery of 
 evil. He had studied those injuries of man to man which 
 are irreparable. He had seen the innocent suffering with 
 the guilty. Death came and removed the criminal and his 
 victim from human sight, and we were left with solemn awe 
 
 * Shakspere: a Critical Study of his Mind aiid Art, by Edward Dow- 
 den (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 402 fol. 
 
 t The same remark applies to Shakspere's part oi Pericles, which be- 
 longs to this period. 
 
30 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 upon our hearts in presence of the insoluble problems of 
 life. ... At the same time that Shakspere had shown the 
 tragic mystery of human life, he had fortified the heart by 
 showing that to suffer is not the supreme evil with man, 
 and that loyalty and innocence, and self-sacrifice, and pure 
 redeeming ardour, exist, and cannot be defeated. Now, in 
 his last period of authorship, Shakspere remained grave — 
 how could it be otherwise ? — but his severity was tem- 
 pered and purified. He had less need of the crude doc- 
 trine of Stoicism, because the tonic of such wisdom as ex- 
 ists in Stoicism had been taken up, and absorbed into his 
 blood. 
 
 Shakspere still thought of the graver trials and tests 
 which life applies to human character, of the wrongs which 
 man inflicts on man ; but his present temper demanded 
 not a tragic issue — it rather demanded an issue into joy or 
 peace. The dissonance must be resolved into a harmony, 
 clear and rapturous, or solemn and profound. And, ac- 
 cordingly, in each of these plays, The Winter's Tale, Cym- 
 beline^ The Tempest^ while grievous errors of the heart are 
 shown to us, and wrongs of man to man as cruel as those 
 of the great tragedies, at the end there is a resolution of 
 the dissonance, a reconciliation. This is the word which 
 interprets Shakspere's later plays — reconciliation, "word 
 over all, beautiful as the sky." It is not, as in the earlier 
 comedies — The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Much Ado about 
 Nothing, As You Like It, and others — a mere denouement. 
 The resolution of the discords in these latest plays is not a 
 mere stage necessity, or a necessity of composition, resorted 
 to by the dramatist to effect an ending of the play, and lit- 
 tle interesting his imagination or his heart. Its signifi- 
 cance here is ethical and spiritual ; it is a moral necessity. 
 
 In The Winter's Tale, the jealousy of Leontes is not less, 
 but more fierce and unjust than that of Othello. No lago 
 whispers poisonous suspicion in Leontes' ear. His wife is 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 not untried, nor did she yield to him her heart with the 
 sweet proneness of Desdemona : — 
 
 " Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death 
 Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, 
 And clap thyself my love ; then didst thou utter 
 ' I am yours for ever.' " 
 
 Hermione is susjDected of sudden and shameless dishonour, 
 she who is a matron, the mother of Leontes' children, a 
 woman of serious and sweet dignity of character, inured to 
 a noble self-command, and frank only through the con- 
 sciousness of invulnerable loyalty."* The passion of Leon- 
 tes is not, like that of Othello, a terrible chaos of soul — 
 confusion and despair at the loss of what had been to him 
 the fairest thing on earth ; there is a gross personal resent- 
 ment in the heart of Leontes, not sorrowful, judicial indig- 
 
 * The contrast between Othello and The Winte7'''s Tale has been no- 
 ticed by Coleridge, and is admirably drawn out in detail by Gervinus 
 and Kreyssig, to whose treatment of the subject the above paragraph 
 is indebted. 
 
 [Coleridge's remarks are as follows : "The idea of this delightful drama 
 is a genuine jealousy of disposition, and it should be immediately fol- 
 lowed by the perusal of Othello, which is the direct contrast of it in ev- 
 ery particular. For jealousy is a vice of the mind, a culpable tendency 
 of the temper, having certain well-known and well-defined effects and 
 concomitants, all of which are visible in Leontes, and, I boldly say, not 
 one of which marks its presence in Othello ; — such as, first, an excita- 
 bility by the most inadequate causes, and an eagerness to snatch at 
 proofs; secondly, a grossness of conception, and a disposition to de- 
 grade the object of the passion by sensual fancies and images ; thirdly, a 
 sense of shame of his own feelings exhibited in a solitary moodiness of 
 humour, and yet from the violence of the passion forced to utter itself, 
 and therefore catching occasions to ease the mind by ambiguities, equi- 
 voques, by talking to those who cannot, and who are known not to be 
 able to, understand what is said to them — in short, by soliloquy in the 
 form of dialogue, and hence a confused, broken, and fragmentary man- 
 ner ; fourthly, a dread of vulgar ridicule, as distinct from a high sense 
 of honour, or a mistaken sense of duty; and lastly, and immediately, 
 consequent on this, a spirit of selfish vindictiveness." 
 
 See extract from Gerviuus in note on i. 2. 87 below. — Ed.] 
 
32 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 nation ; his passion is hideously grotesque, while that of 
 Othello is pathetic. 
 
 The consequences of this jealous madness of Leontes 
 are less calamitous than the ruin wrought by Othello's jeal- 
 ousy, because Hermione is courageous and collected, and 
 possessed of a fortitude of heart which years of suffering 
 are unable to subdue. . . . But although the wave of calam- 
 ity is broken by the firm resistance offered by the fortitude 
 of Hermione, it commits ravage enough to be remembered. 
 Upon the Queen comes a lifetime of solitude and pain. 
 The hopeful son of Leontes and Hermione is done to 
 death, and the infant Perdita is estranged from her kindred 
 and her friends. But at length the heart of Leontes is 
 instructed and purified by anguish and remorse. He has 
 "performed a saintlike sorrow," redeemed his faults, paid 
 down more penitence than done trespass : 
 
 " Whilst I remember 
 Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
 My blemishes in them, and so still think of 
 The wrong I did myself; which was so much, 
 That heirless it hath made my kingdom and 
 Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man 
 Bred his hopes out of." 
 
 •And Leontes is received back without reproach into the 
 arms of his wife; she embraces him in silence, allowing the 
 good pain of his repentance to effect its utmost work. . . . 
 
 From the first, Hermione, whose clear-sightedness is equal 
 to her courage, had perceived that her husband laboured 
 under a delusion which was cruel and calamitous to himself. 
 From the first she transcends all blind resentment, and has 
 true pity for the man who wrongs her. But if she has forti- 
 tude for her own uses, she also is able to accept for her hus- 
 band the inevitable pain which is necessary to restore him 
 to his better mind. She will not shorten the term of his 
 suffering, because that suffering is beneficent. And at the 
 
INTRODUCTION. ^^-^ 
 
 last her silent embrace carries with it — and justly — a portion 
 of that truth she had uttered long before : 
 
 " How will this grieve you, 
 When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that 
 You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord. 
 You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
 You did mistake." 
 
 The calm and complete comprehension of the fact is a pos- 
 session painful yet precious to Hermione, and it lifts her 
 above all vulgar confusion of heart or temper, and above 
 all unjust resentment. . . . 
 
 Over the beauty of youth and the love of youth there is 
 shed, in these plays of Shakspere's final period, a clear yet 
 tender luminousness not elsewhere to be perceived in his 
 writings. In his earlier plays, Shakspere writes concerning 
 young men and maidens, their loves, their mirth, their griefs, 
 as one who is among them, who has a lively, personal inter- 
 est in their concerns, who can make merry with them, treat 
 them familiarly, and, if need be, can mock them into good 
 sense. There is nothing in these early plays wonderful, 
 strangely beautiful, pathetic about youth and its joys and 
 sorrows. . . . But in these latest plays the beautiful, pathetic 
 light is always present. There are the sufferers, aged, expe- 
 rienced, tried — Queen Katherine, Prospero, Hermione. And 
 over against these there are the children absorbed in their 
 happy and exquisite egoism — Perdita and Miranda, Florizel 
 and Ferdinand, and the boys of old Belarius. ... In each of 
 these plays we can see Shakspere, as it were, bending ten- 
 derly over the joys and sorrows of youth. We recognize 
 this rather through the total characterization, and through 
 a feeling and a presence, than through definite incident or 
 statement. But some of this feeling escapes in the disinter- 
 ested joy and admiration of old Belarius when he gazes at 
 the princely youths, and in Camillo's loyalty to Florizel and 
 Perdita ; while it obtains more distinct expression in such a 
 
 C 
 
34 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 word as that which Prospero utters, when from a distance he 
 watches with pleasure Miranda's zeal to relieve Ferdinand 
 from his task of log -bearing: — "Poor worm, thou art in- 
 fected." 
 
 {From FurnivaWs Introduction to the Play.*'\ 
 
 We turn from our murky Britain again to sunlit Sicily and 
 the Mediterranean, and though Mamillius tells us that — 
 
 *' A sad tale 's best for winter," 
 
 yet, notwithstanding all Hermione's suffering, and the death 
 of her gallant boy, who used to frighten her with goblin sto- 
 ries, we can't call Shakspere's Winter's Tale sad. It is so 
 fragrant with Perdita and her primroses and violets, so 
 happy in the reunion and reconciliation of her and her 
 father and mother, so bright with the sunshine of her and 
 of Florizel's young love, and the merry roguery of that 
 scamp Autolycus, that none of us can think of The Winter's 
 Tale as a "sad tale" or play. 
 
 The last complete play of Shakspere's as it is, the golden 
 glow of the sunset of his genius is over it, the sweet country 
 air all through it ; and of few, if any of his plays, is there a 
 pleasanter picture in the memory than of Winter's Tale. As 
 long as men can think, shall Perdita brighten and sweeten, 
 Hermione ennoble, men's minds and lives. How happily, 
 too, it brings Shakspere before us, mixing with his Stratford 
 neighbours at their sheep-shearing and country sports, en- 
 joying the vagabond pedlar's gammon and talk, delighting 
 in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, and buying them " fair- 
 ings," telling goblin stories to the boys, " There was a man 
 dwelt by a churchyard," f — opening his heart afresh to all 
 the innocent mirth, and the beauty of nature around him. 
 He borrowd the improbable story of his play from a popu- 
 lar tale by his old abuser Greene, Pandosto (or Dorastus and 
 
 * The Leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. xci. 
 t Who will finish it for us ? 
 
INTRODUCTION. ,e 
 
 Fawnia — who is Perdita), of which the first edition in 1588 
 was followd by thirteen others, and which puts the inland 
 Bohemia on the sea-shore, as Shakspere does. This tale 
 contains no original of Paulina and Autolycus, or the recon- 
 ciliation of Leontes and Hermione;* the shepherd's wife's 
 name is Mopsa; the queen dies on hearing of the death of 
 her son. Shakspere changes Bohemia for Sicily, and vice 
 versa. We must accept the medley and anachronisms of 
 this play, as Hudson says, "making Whitsun pastorals, Chris- 
 tian burial, Giulio Romano, the Emperor of Russia, and Pu- 
 ritans singing psalms to hornpipes, all contemporary with 
 the oracle of Delphi. "f "It is a winter's tale, an old tale," 
 and one must not object to confusions in it. It is Greene's 
 tale, informd by a new spirit, instinct with a new life. The 
 play is late in metre, in feeling, in purpose. It has no five- 
 measure ryme in the dialogue, its end-stopt lines are only 
 one in 2.12, its double-endings are as many as one in 2.85; 
 it has passages in Shakspere's latest budding style, "What 
 you do, still betters what is done," etc. Its purpose, its les- 
 son, are to teach forgiveness of wrongs, not vengeance for 
 them ; to give the sinner time to repent and amend, not to 
 cut him off in his sin; to frustrate the crimes he has pur- 
 post. And as in Pericles., father and lost daughter, and wife 
 and mother thought dead, meet again \ as in Cymbeline, father 
 and injured daughter meet again, she forgiving her wrongs; 
 as there, too, friends meet again, the injured friend forgiving 
 his wrongs, so here do lost daughter, injured daughter and 
 injuring father, meet, he being forgiven ; so injured friend 
 forgiving, meets injuring friend forgiven; while above all 
 rises the figure of the noble, long-suffering wife Hermione, 
 forgiving the base though now repentant husband who had 
 so cruelly injured her. She links this play to Shakspere's 
 
 * And none of Antigonus or the shepherd's son. 
 
 t Compare what Uh-ici and Gervinus say in the extracts on pp. 13 
 and 17 above. — Ed. 
 
36 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 last fragment, Heniy VIII. ^ and makes us believe that this 
 twice-repeated reunion of husband and wife, in their daugh- 
 ter, late in life, this twice -repeated forgiveness of sinning 
 husbands by sinnd-against wives, have somewhat to do with 
 Shakspere's reunion with his wife, and his renewd family 
 life at Stratford. The Fourth-Period melody is heard all 
 through the play. We see, too, in The Winter's Tale the con- 
 trast between court and country that The Tempest and Cym- 
 beliiie showd us. Plenty of other links there are, of which 
 we will note only two : First, one like the sword line at the 
 end of Tear and Othello^ " Slander, whose sting is sharper 
 than the sword's" {Winter's Tale, ii. 3. 85); " Slander, whose 
 edge is sharper than the sword" (Cymbeline, iii. 4. 35); and 
 second, the clown's clothes making the gentleman -born in 
 Winter's Tale, and Cloten's " Know'st thou me not by my 
 clothes V In The Tempest we have a storm as here, while 
 our play is linkt to Othello by the king's monomaniacal jeal- 
 ousy being like Othello's, though here it is self-suggested, not 
 from without by an lago. Paulina here is a truer Emilia : 
 she steals no handkerchief: but the ladies are alike in 
 their love for their mistresses, and in their violent indigna- 
 tion, so well-deservd, against their masters. The pretty 
 picture of the two kings' early friendship, which reminds us 
 of those of Celia and Rosalind in As You like It, and of 
 Hermia and Helena in the Dream^ is soon broken down 
 by the monomania of Leontes's jealousy, and the disgrace- 
 fulness of his talking to his boy Mamillius about his wife's 
 supposd adultery. His attempt to get Camillo to poison 
 Polixenes is more direct than even John's with Hubert to 
 murder Arthur, Richard's with Tyrrel to strangle the inno- 
 cents, Henry the Fourth's with Exton to clear Richard the 
 Second from his path. His sending his guiltless daughter 
 to her death, and his insistence on his wife's guilt and trial, 
 
 *Nole the likeness of Hermione's how pretence of love Avill manage 
 wives, to that of Luciana in the Errors. 
 
INTRODUCTION, 3y 
 
 are almost madness too. But his repentance, like Posthu- 
 mus's, comes at last, and is, we hope, as real. At any rate, 
 he gets the benefit of Shakspere's Fourth-Period mood, which 
 has restord to him the wife and daughter whom he never 
 deservd. Hermione is, I suppose, the most magnanimous 
 and noble of Shakspere's women ; without a fault, she suf- 
 fers, and for sixteen years, as if for the greatest fault. If 
 we contrast her noble defence of herself against the shame- 
 less imputation on her honour, with the conduct of earlier 
 women in like case, the faltering words and swoon of Hero, 
 the few ill-starrd sentences of Desdemona, saying just what 
 would worst inflame her husband's wrath, the pathetic ap- 
 peal and yet submission of Imogen, we see how splendidly 
 Shakspere has developt in his last great creation. And 
 when Camillo's happy suggestion that Florizel should take 
 Perdita to Sicily and Leontes has borne fruit, and Shak- 
 spere — forced to narrative, as in the news of Lear to Corde- 
 lia — unites father and daughter, and then brings both into 
 union before us with the mother thought so long a corpse 
 and still a stone, the climax of pathos and delight is reacht: 
 art can no farther go, Combind with this noble, suffering 
 figure of Hermione, and her long-sunderd married life, is 
 the sweet picture of Perdita's and Florizel's love and happy 
 future. Shakspere shows us more of Perdita than of Mi- 
 randa; and heavenly as the innocence of Miranda was, we 
 yet feel that Perdita comes to us with a sweeter, more earth- 
 like charm, though not less endowd with all that is pure 
 and holy, than her sister of the imaginary Mediterranean 
 isle. On these two sweet English girls, bright with the ra- 
 diance of youth and love, the mind delights to linger, and 
 does so with happiness, while sadness haunts the recollec- 
 tion of Shakspere's first great girl-figure Juliet, beautiful in 
 different kind. 
 
 Not only do we see Shakspere's freshness of spirit in his 
 production of Perdita, but also in his creation of Autolycus. 
 
38 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 That, at the close of his dramatic life, after all the troubles 
 he had passt through, Shakspere had yet the youngness of 
 heart to bubble out into this merry rogue, the incarnation 
 of fun and rascality, and let him sail off successful and un- 
 harmd, is wonderful. And that there is no diminution of 
 his former comic power is shown, too, in his clown, who 
 wants but somethins: to be a reasonable man. 
 
 THE AVON AT WEIR BRAKE. 
 
THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Leontes, King of Sicilia. 
 Mamillius, young Prince of Sicilia. 
 Camillo, ^ 
 
 Antigonus, I 
 
 Four Lords of Sicilia. 
 
 Cleomenes, 
 
 Dion, j 
 
 Polixenes, King of Bohemia. 
 
 Florizel, Prince of Bohemia. 
 
 Archidamus, a Lord of Bohemia. 
 
 Old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita. 
 
 Clown, his son. 
 
 AuTOLYCus, a rogue. 
 
 A Mariner. 
 
 A Gaoler. 
 
 Hermione, Queen to Leontes. 
 Perdita, daughter to Leontes and Her- 
 mione. 
 Paulina, wife to Antigonus. 
 Emilia, a lady attending on Hermione. 
 Mopsa, ) 
 
 Dorcas, ) 
 
 Shepherdesses. 
 
 Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Offi- 
 cers, Guards, Servants, Shepherds, and 
 Shepherdesses. 
 
 Time, as Chorus. 
 
 Scene : Sicilia and Bohemia. 
 
, ,,.|J„i.i; 
 
 PORTAL OF PALACE COURT, PRAGUE. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. Antechmnber in the Palace of Leontcs. 
 
 Enter Camillo and Archidaimus. 
 
 Archidamus. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohe- 
 mia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on 
 foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt 
 our Bohemia and your Sicilia. 
 
42 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Camillo. I think, this coming summer, the King of SiciUa 
 means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes 
 him. 
 
 Archidamus. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us 
 we will be justified in our loves; for indeed — 
 
 Camillo. Beseech you, — lo 
 
 Archidamus. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowl- 
 edge; we cannot with such magnificence — in so rare — I know 
 not what to say. AVe will give you sleepy drinks, that your 
 senses, unintelligent of our insufBcience, may, though they 
 cannot praise us, as little accuse us. 
 
 Camillo. You pay a great deal too dear for what 's given 
 freely. 
 
 Archidamus. Believe me, I speak as my understanding in- 
 structs me and as mine honesty puts it to utterance. 19 
 
 Camillo. Sicilia cannot show himself over -kind to Bohe- 
 mia. They were trained together in their childhoods ; and 
 there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which can- 
 not choose but branch now\ Since their more mature dig- 
 nities and royal necessities made separation of their society, 
 their encounters, though not personal, hath been royally 
 attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embas- 
 sies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent, 
 shook hands, as over a vast, and embraced, as it were, from 
 the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their 
 loves ! 30 
 
 Archidamus. I think there is not in the world either malice 
 or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of 
 your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the great- 
 est promise that ever came into my note. 
 
 Camillo. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him. 
 It is a gallant child ; one that indeed physics the subject, 
 makes old hearts fresh : they that went on crutches ere he 
 was born desire yet their life to see him a man. 
 
 Archidamus. Would they else be content to die? 39 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 43 
 
 Camilla. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they 
 should desire to live. 
 
 Arc/iidamiis. If the king had no son, they would desire Id 
 live on crutches till he had one. {^Exeimt. 
 
 Scene II. A Room of State m the Same. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes^ Camil- 
 
 LO, a7id Attendants. 
 
 Polixenes. Nine changes of the watery star hath been 
 The shepherd's note since we have left our throne 
 Without a burthen : time as long again 
 Would be fiU'd up, my brother, with our thanks; 
 And yet we should, for perpetuity, 
 Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cipher. 
 Yet standing in rich place, I multiply 
 With one ' We thank you ' many thousands moe 
 That go before it. 
 
 Leontes. Stay your thanks a while; 
 
 And pay them when you part. 
 
 Polixenes. Sir, that 's to-morrow. lo 
 
 I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance 
 Or breed upon our absence. — That may blow 
 No sneaping winds at home, to make us say 
 'This is put forth too truly !' — Besides, I have stay'd 
 To tire your royalty. 
 
 Leontes. We are tougher, brother, 
 
 Than you can put us to 't. 
 
 Polixenes. No longer stay. 
 
 Leontes. One seven-night longer. 
 
 Polixenes. Very sooth, to-morrow. 
 
 Leontes. We '11 part the time between 's then; and in that 
 I '11 no gainsaying. 
 
 Polixenes. Press me not, beseech you, so. 
 
 There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, 20 
 
44 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 So soon as yours could win me; so it should now, 
 
 Were there necessity in your request, although 
 
 'T were needful I denied it. My affairs 
 
 Do even drag me homeward : which to hinder 
 
 Were in your love a whip to me ; my stay 
 
 To you a charge and trouble : to save both. 
 
 Farewell, our brother. 
 
 Leontes. Tongue-tied our queen ? speak you. 
 
 HermioJie. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until 
 You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir. 
 Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure 30 
 
 All in Bohemia 's well; this satisfaction 
 The bygone day proclaim'd : say this to him. 
 He 's beat from his best ward. 
 
 Leontes. Well said, Hermione. 
 
 Hermio7ie. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong : 
 But let him say so then, and let him go j 
 But let him swear so, and he shall not stay. 
 We '11 thwack him hence with distaffs. — 
 Yet of your royal presence I '11 adventure 
 The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia 
 You take my lord, I '11 give him my commission 40 
 
 To let him there a month behind the gest 
 Prefix'd for 's parting ;— yet, good deed, Leontes, 
 I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind 
 What lady she her lord.— You '11 stay .? 
 
 Polixenes. No, madam. 
 
 Hermione. Nay, but you will ? 
 
 Polixenes. I may not, verily. 
 
 Hermione. Verily! 
 You put me off with limber vows ; but I, 
 Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, 
 Should yet say ' Sir, no going.' Verily, 
 You shall not go ; a lady's ' Verily ' is 50 
 
 As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. .- 
 
 45 
 
 Force me to keep you as a prisoner, 
 
 Not like a guest ; so you shall pay your fees 
 
 When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? 
 
 My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' 
 
 One of them you shall be. 
 
 Folixenes. Your guest, then, madam : 
 
 To be your prisoner should import offending; 
 Which is for me less easy to commit 
 Than you to punish. 
 
 Hermione. Not your gaoler, then, 
 
 But your kind hostess. Come, I '11 question you 60 
 
 Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys ; 
 You were pretty lordings then ? 
 
 Folixenes. We were, fair queen, 
 
 Two lads that thought there was no more behind 
 But such a day to-morrow as to-day. 
 And to be boy eternal. 
 
 Hermione. Was not my lord 
 
 The verier wag o' the two ? 
 
 Folixenes. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, 
 And bleat the one at the other. What we changed 
 Was innocence for innocence ; we knew not 
 The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd 70 
 
 That any did. Had we pursued that life, 
 And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd 
 With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven 
 Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd 
 Hereditary ours. 
 
 Hermione. By this we gather 
 
 You have tripp'd since. 
 
 Folixenes. O my most sacred lady! 
 
 Temptations have since then been born to 's: for 
 In those unfledg'd days w^as my wife a girl ; 
 Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes 
 Of my young play-fellow. 
 
46 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Hermione. Grace to boot ! 80 
 
 Of this make no conclusion, lest you say 
 Your queen and I are devils. Yet go on ; 
 The offences we have made you do we '11 answer, 
 If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us 
 You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not 
 With any but with us. 
 
 Leontes. Is he won yet ? 
 
 Hermione. He '11 stay, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. At my request he would 
 
 not. 
 Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st 
 To better purpose. 
 
 Hermione. Never "^ 
 
 Leontes. Never, but once. 
 
 Hermione. What ! have I twice said well 1 when was 't 
 before ? 90 
 
 I prithee tell me ; cram 's with praise, and make 's 
 As fat as tame things : one good deed dying tongueless 
 Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. 
 Our praises are our wages ; you may ride 's 
 With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere 
 With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal : 
 My last good deed was to entreat his stay ; 
 What was my first 1 it has an elder sister. 
 Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace ! 
 But once before I spoke to the purpose \ when ? 100 
 
 Nay, let me have 't ; I long. 
 
 Leontes. Why, that was when 
 
 Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death. 
 Ere L could make thee open thy white hand 
 And clap thyself my love ; then didst thou utter 
 'I am yours for ever.' 
 
 Herm ione. ' T i s gr ac e indeed. 
 
 Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice : 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 
 
 47 
 
 The one for ever earn'd a royal husband ; 
 The other for some while a friend. 
 
 Leontes. \Aside\ Too hot, too hot ! 
 
 To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. 
 I have tremor cordis on me : my heart dances; no 
 
 But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment 
 May a free face put on, derive a liberty 
 From heartiness, from bounty's fertile bosom, 
 And well become the agent ; 't may, I grant ; 
 But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, 
 As now they are, and making practis'd smiles. 
 As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 't were 
 The mort o' the deer, — O, that is entertainment 
 My bosom likes not, nor my brows ! — Mamillius, 
 Art thou my boy ? 
 
 Mamillius. Ay, my good lord. 
 
 Leontes. I' fecks ! 120 
 
 Why, that 's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose ? — 
 They say it is a copy out of mine. — Come, captain, 
 We must be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, captain : 
 And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf 
 Are all call'd neat.^Still virginalling 
 Upon his palm! — How now, you wanton calf! 
 Art thou my calf? 
 
 Mamillius. Yes, if you will, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I 
 have. 
 To be full like me : yet they say we are 
 Almost as like as eggs ; women say so, 13° 
 
 That will say any thing : but were they false 
 As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false 
 As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes 
 No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true 
 To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, 
 Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain I 
 
48 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Most dear'st ! my collop ! Can thy dam ? — may 't be ? — ■ 
 
 Affection ! thy intention stabs the centre : 
 
 Thou dost make possible things not so held, 
 
 Communicat'st with dreams; — how can this be? — 140 
 
 With what 's unreal thou coactive art, 
 
 And fellow'st nothing. Then 't is very credent 
 
 Thou mayst co-join with something ; and thou dost, 
 
 And that beyond commission, and I find it, 
 
 And that to the infection of my brains 
 
 And hardening of my brows. 
 
 Polixenes. What means Sicilia? 
 
 Hermione. He something seems unsettled. 
 
 Polixenes. How, my lord ! 
 
 What cheer? how is 't with you, best brother? 
 
 Hermione. You look 
 
 As if you held a brow of much distraction ; 
 Are you mov'd, my lord ? 
 
 Leontes. No, in good earnest. — 150 
 
 How sometimes nature will betray it's folly, 
 It's tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
 To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines 
 Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil 
 Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, 
 In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, 
 Lest it should bite it's master, and so prove. 
 As ornaments oft do, too dangerous. 
 How like, methought, I then was to this kernel. 
 This squash, this gentleman. — Mine honest friend, 160 
 
 Will you take eggs for money ? 
 
 Mamillius. No, my lord, I '11 fight. 
 
 Leontes. You will ! why, happy man be 's dole ! — My 
 brother. 
 Are you so fond of your young prince as we 
 Do seem to be of ours ? 
 
 Polixenes. If at home, sir, 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 49 
 
 He 's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter. 
 
 Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy. 
 
 My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all. 
 
 He makes a July's day short as December, 
 
 And with his varying childness cures in me 170 
 
 Thoughts that would thick my blood. 
 
 Leontes. So stands this squire 
 
 Offic'd with me. We two will walk, my lord, 
 And leave you to your graver steps. — -iiermionfi,, 
 HoBLthaiL-lav'st us^&howin our brother's welcome ; 
 Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap : 
 Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's 
 Apparent to my heart. 
 
 Hermio7ie. If you would seek us. 
 
 We are yours i' the garden ; shall 's attend you there } 
 
 LeoTites. To your own bents dispose you ; you '11 be 
 found, 
 Be you beneath the sky. — \Aside\ I am angling now, 180 
 
 Though you perceive me not how I give line. 
 Go to, go to ! 
 
 How she holds up the neb, the bill to him ! 
 And arms her with the boldness of a wife 
 To her allowing husband ! 
 
 \Exeunt Folixenes, Het-mione^ and Attendants. 
 Gone already! 
 Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one ! — 
 Go, play, boy, play. — Thy mother plays, and I 
 Play too, but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue 
 Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour 
 Will be my knell— Go, play, boy, play.—There have been, 190 
 Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now. 
 Should all despair 
 
 That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
 Would hang themselves. Ph3-sic for 't there is none ; 
 It is a bawdy planet, that will strike 
 
 D 
 
^o THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Where 't is predominant : many thousand on 's 
 Have the disease, and feel 't not. — How now, boy ! 
 
 Mamillius. I am hke you, they say. 
 
 Leontes. Why, that 's some comfort.— 
 
 What, Camillo there ? 
 
 CaniUlo, Ay, my good lord. 200 
 
 Leontes. Go play, Mamillius ; thou 'rt an honest man. — 
 
 \_Exit Mamillius. 
 Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. 
 
 Camillo. You had much ado to make his anchor hold; 
 When you cast out, it still came home. 
 
 Leontes. Didst note it.-* 
 
 Cajnillo. He would not stay at your petitions, made 
 His business more material. 
 
 Leontes. Didst perceive it ? — 
 
 \Aside^^T\\^^ 're here with me already, whispering, rounding, 
 ' Sicilia is a so-forth ;' 't is far gone. 
 When I shall gust it last. — How came 't, Camillo, 
 That he did stay ? 
 
 Camillo. At the good queen's entreaty. 210 
 
 Leontes. At the queen's be 't : 'good' should be pertinent; 
 But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken 
 By any understanding pate but thine? 
 For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in 
 More than the common blocks ; — ^^not noted, is 't, 
 But of the finer natures? by some severals 
 Of head-piece extraordinary ? lower messes 
 Perchance are to this business purblind ? say. 
 
 Camillo. Business, my lord ! I think most understand 
 Bohemia stays here longer. 
 
 Leontes. Ha ! 
 
 Camillo. Stays here longer. 220 
 
 Leontes. Ay, but why ? 
 
 Camillo. To satisfy your highness and the entreaties 
 Of our most gracious mistress. 
 
ACT I. SCENE IL 
 
 Leontes. Satisfy ! 
 
 The entreaties of your mistress ! satisfy ! 
 Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, 
 /With all the nearest things to my heart, as well 
 / My chamber-counsels, wherein, priest-like, thou 
 ■ Hast cleans'd my bosom, I from thee departed 
 Thy penitent reform'd ; but we have been 
 Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd 
 In that which seems so. 
 
 Camillo, Be it forbid, my lord ! 
 
 Leontes, To bide upon 't, thou art not honest, or, 
 If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, 
 Which boxes honesty behind, restraining 
 From course requir'd ; or else thou must be counted 
 A servant grafted in my serious trust 
 And therein negligent ; or else a fool 
 That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, 
 And tak'st it all for jest. 
 
 Camillo. My gracious lord, 
 
 I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful; 
 In every one of these no man is free, 
 But that his negligence, his folly, fear, 
 Among the infinite doings of the world, 
 Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, 
 If ever I were wilful-negligent. 
 It was my folly ; if industriously 
 I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 
 Not weighing well the end ; if ever fearful 
 To do a thing, where I the issue doubted. 
 Whereof the execution did cry out 
 Against the non-performance, 't was a fear 
 Which oft infects the wisest : these, my lord, 
 Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty 
 Is never free of But, beseech your grace. 
 Be plainer with me ; let me know my trespass 
 
 51 
 
C2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 By it's own visage : if I then deny it, 
 'T is none of mine. 
 
 Leoiites. Ha' not you seen, Camillo, — • 
 
 But that 's past doubt ; you have, or your eye-glass 
 Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, — or heard, — 
 For to a vision so apparent rumour 
 Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation 
 Resides not in that man that does not think, — • 
 My wife is slippery ? If thou wilt confess, 
 Or else be impudently negative, 
 To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say 
 My wife 's a hobby-horse ; say 't and justify 't. 
 
 Camillo. I would not be a stander-by to hear 
 My sovereign mistress clouded so, without 
 My present vengeance taken. 'Shrew my heart, 
 You never spoke what did become you less 
 Than this ; which to reiterate were sin 
 As deep as that, though true. 
 
 Leontes. Is whispering nothing ? 
 
 Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? 
 Kissing with inside lip ? stopping the career 
 Of laughing with a sigh ? — a note infallible 
 Of breaking honesty — horsing foot on foot? 
 Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? 
 Hours, minutes ? noon, midnight ? and all eyes 
 Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, 
 That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? 
 Why, then the world and all that 's in 't is nothing; 
 The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing ; 
 My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have these nothings. 
 If this be nothing. 
 
 Camillo. Good my lord, be cur'd 
 
 Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes ; 
 For 't is most dangerous. 
 
 Leontes. Say it be, 't is true. 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 53 
 
 Camillo. No, no, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. It is ; you lie, you lie : 
 
 I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee. 
 Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave. 
 Or else a hovering temporizer, that 290 
 
 Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, 
 Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver 
 Infected as her life, she would not live 
 The running of one glass. 
 
 Camillo. Who does infect her ? 
 
 Leontes. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging 
 About his neck, Bohemia; — who, if I 
 Had servants true about me, that bare eyes 
 To see alike mine honour as their profits, 
 Their own particular thrifts, they would do that 
 Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou, 300 
 
 His cup-bearer, — whom I from meaner form 
 Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see 
 Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven. 
 How I am galled, — mightst bespice a cup. 
 To give mine enemy a lasting wink ; 
 Which draught to me were cordial. 
 
 Camillo. Sir, my lord, 
 
 I could do this, and that with no rash potion. 
 But with a lingering dram that should not work 
 Maliciously like poison; but I cannot 
 
 Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, 3fo 
 
 So sovereignly being honourable. 
 I have lov'd thee, — 
 
 Leo7ites. Make that thy question, and go rot ! 
 
 Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, 
 To appoint myself in this vexation, sully 
 The purity and whiteness of my sheets. 
 Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted 
 Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps, 
 
54 . THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, 
 
 Who I do think is mine and love as mine, 
 
 Without ripe moving to 't ? Would I do this ? 320 
 
 Could man so blench? 
 
 Camillo. I must believe you, sir: 
 
 _ I do j and will fetch off Bohemia for 't : 
 Provided that, when he 's remov'd, your highness 
 Will take again your queen as yours at first. 
 Even for your son's sake ; and thereby for sealing 
 The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms 
 Known and allied to yours. 
 
 Leontes. • Thou dost advise me 
 
 Even so as I mine own course have set down; 
 I '11 give no blemish to her honour, none. 
 
 Camillo. My lord, 330 
 
 Go then ; and with a countenance as clear 
 As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia 
 And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer; 
 If from me he have wholesome beverage, 
 Account me not your servant. 
 
 Leontes. This is all : 
 
 Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart; 
 Do 't not, thou split'st thine own. 
 
 Camillo. I '11 do 't, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me. 
 
 \Exit. 
 
 Camillo. O miserable lady ! — But, for me, 
 What case stand I in ? I must be the poisoner 340 
 
 Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do 't 
 vis the obedience to a master, one 
 iWho in rebellion with himself will have 
 All that are his so too. To do this deed, 
 Promotion follows. If I could find example 
 Of thousands that had struck anointed kings 
 And flourish'd after, I 'd not do 't; but since 
 
AC7' l. SCENE IT. 55 
 
 Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, 
 
 Let villany itself forswear 't. I must 
 
 Forsake the court; to do 't, or no, is certain 350 
 
 To me a break-neck. — Happy star reign now ! 
 
 Here comes Bohemia. 
 
 Re-efiter Polixenes. 
 
 Polixenes. This is strange ! me thinks 
 
 My favour here begins to warp. Not speak.? — 
 Good day, Camillo. 
 
 Camillo. Hail, most royal sir ! 
 
 Polixenes. What is the news i' the court.'' 
 
 Camillo. None rare, my lord. 
 
 Polixenes. The king hath on him such a countenance 
 As he had lost some province, and a region 
 Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met him 
 With customary compliment, when he, 
 Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling 360 
 
 A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and 
 So leaves me to consider what is breeding 
 That changeth thus his manners. 
 
 Camillo. I dare not know, my lord. 
 
 Polixenes. How! dare not! — do not.'* Do you know, and 
 dare not 
 Be intelligent to me? 't is thereabouts; 
 For, to yourself, what you do know you must. 
 And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo, 
 Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror 
 Which shows me mine chang'd too; for I must be 370 
 
 A party in this alteration, findmg 
 Myself thus alter'd with 't. 
 
 Ca7nillo. There is a sickness 
 
 Which puts some of us in distemper, but 
 I cannot name the disease ; and it is caught 
 Of you that yet are well. 
 
56 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Polixenes. How ! caught of me ! 
 
 Make me not sighted like the basilisk ; 
 I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better 
 By my regard, but kilFd none so. Camillo, — 
 As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto 
 Clerk-like experienc'd, which no less adorns 380 
 
 Our gentry than our parents' noble names. 
 In whose success we are gentle, — I beseech you, 
 If you know aught which does behove my knowledge 
 Thereof to be inform'd, imprison 't not 
 In ignorant concealment. 
 
 Camillo. I may not answer. 
 
 Polixenes. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well ! 
 I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo, 
 I conjure thee, by all the parts of man 
 Which honour does acknowledge, — whereof the least 
 Is not this suit of mine, — that thou declare 390 
 
 What incidency thou dost guess of harm 
 Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; 
 Which way to be prevented, if to be; 
 If not, how best to bear it. 
 
 Camillo. Sir, I will tell you; 
 
 Since I am charg'd in honour and by him 
 That I think honourable; therefore mark my counsel, 
 Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as 
 I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me 
 Cry lost, and so good night ! 
 
 Polixenes. On, good Camillo. 
 
 Camillo. I am appointed him to murther you. 400 
 
 Polixenes. By whom, Camillo t 
 
 Camillo. By the king. 
 
 Polixefies. ' For what ? 
 
 Camillo. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears. 
 As he had seen 't or been an instrument 
 ^/ To vice you to 't, — that you have touch'd his queen 
 Forbiddenly. 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. ey 
 
 Polixefies. O, then my best blood turn 
 To an infected jelly, and my name 
 Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best ! 
 Turn then my freshest reputation to 
 A savour that may strike the dullest nostril 
 Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, 4,0 
 
 Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection 
 That e'er was heard or read ! 
 
 Camillo. Swear his thought over 
 
 By each particular star in heaven and 
 By all their influences, you may as well 
 Forbid the sea for to obey the moon 
 As or by oath remove or counsel shake 
 The fabric of his folly, whose foundation 
 Is pil'd upon his faith and will continue 
 The standing of his body. 
 
 Polixenes. How should this grow ? 
 
 Cajnillo. I know not; but I am sure 't is safer to 420 
 
 Avoid what 's grown than question how 't is born. 
 If therefore you dare trust my honesty. 
 That lies enclosed in this trunk which you 
 Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night ! 
 Your followers I will whisper to the business, 
 And will by twos and threes at several posterns 
 Clear them o' the city. For myself, I '11 put 
 My fortunes to your service, which are here 
 By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain ; 
 For, by the honour of my parents, I 430 
 
 Have utter'd truth : which if you seek to prove, 
 I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer 
 Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon 
 His execution sworn. 
 
 Polixefies. I do believe thee; 
 
 I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand; 
 Be pilot to me, and thy places shall 
 
^8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and 
 
 My people did expect my hence departure 
 
 Two days ago. This jealousy 
 
 Is for a precious creature ; as she 's rare, 44° 
 
 Must it be great, and as his person 's mighty, 
 
 Must it be violent, and as he does conceive 
 
 He is dishonoured by a man which ever 
 
 Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must 
 
 In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me; 
 
 Good expedition be my friend, and comfort 
 
 The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing 
 
 Of his ill-ta'en suspicion !— Come, Camillo; 
 
 I will respect thee as a father, if 
 
 Thou bear'st my life off hence : let us avoid. 4So 
 
 Ca?nillo. It is in mine authority to command 
 The keys of all the posterns; please your highness 
 To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. \Exnmt. 
 
 A CASTLE IN BOHEMIA. 
 
OLD CORONATION CHAMBER, ROYAL PALACE, PRAGUE. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. A Room in the Palace of Leo?tfes. 
 Enter Hermione, Mamilltus, and Ladies. 
 
 Hennione. Take the boy to you; he so troubles me, 
 'T is past enduring. 
 
 I Lady. Come, my gracious lord, 
 
 Shall I be your playfellow ? 
 
 Mainillms. No, I '11 none of you. 
 
 1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord ? 
 
 MamilUus. You '11 kiss me hard, and speak to me as if 
 I were a baby still. — I love you better. 
 
 2 Lady. And why so, my lord ? 
 
 MamilUus. Not for because 
 
 Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say, 
 
6o THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Become some women best, so that there be not 
 
 Too much hair there, but in a semicircle, lo 
 
 Or a half-moon made with a pen. 
 
 2 Lady. Who taught you this ? 
 
 Mamillius. I learnt it out of women's faces. — Pray now, 
 What colour are your eyebrows ? 
 
 I Lady. Blue, my lord. 
 
 MaiTiillms. Nay, that 's a mock; I have seen a lady's nose 
 That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. 
 
 1 Lady. Hark ye ; 
 The queen your mother rounds apace : we shall 
 Present our services to a fine new prince 
 
 One of these days; and then you 'd wanton with us, 
 If we would have you. 
 
 2 Lady. She is spread of late 
 
 Into a goodly bulk; good time encounter her! 20 
 
 LLermione. What wisdom stirs amongst you ? — Come, sir, 
 now 
 I am for you again ; pray you, sit by us. 
 And tell 's a tale. 
 
 Mamillius. Merry or sad shall 't be ? 
 
 LLer7nione. As merry as you will. 
 
 Mamillius. A sad tale 's best for wmter; I have one 
 Of sprites and goblins. 
 
 ILermiojte. Let 's have that, good sir. 
 
 Come on, sit down : come on, and do your best 
 To fright me with your sprites; you 're powerful at it. 
 
 Mamillius. There was a man — 
 
 LLermione. Nay, come, sit down; then on, 
 
 Mamillius. Dwelt by a churchyard :— I will tell it softly; 
 Yond crickets shall not hear it. 
 
 LLermione. Come on, then, 31 
 
 And give 't me in mine ear. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 6 1 
 
 Enter Leontes, with Antigonus, Lords, and others. 
 
 Leontes. Was he met there ? his train ? Camillo with him? 
 
 I Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them ; never 
 Saw I men scour so on their way : I eyed them 
 Even to their ships, 
 
 Leontes. How blest am I 
 
 In my just censure, in my true opinion ! 
 Alack, for lesser knowledge ! how accurs'd 
 In being so blest ! There may be in the cup 
 A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart, 40 
 
 And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge 
 Is not infected; but if one present 
 The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known 
 How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides. 
 With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider. 
 Camillo was his help in this, his pander. 
 There is a plot against my life, my crown ; 
 All 's true that is mistrusted : that false villain 
 Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him. 
 He has discover'd my design, and I 50 
 
 Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick 
 For them to play at will. — How came the posterns 
 So easily open ? 
 
 I Lord. By his great authority, 
 
 Which often hath no less prevail'd than so 
 On your command. 
 
 Leontes. I know 't too well. 
 
 Give me the boy; I am glad 3^ou did not nurse him : 
 Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you 
 Have too much blood in him. 
 
 ILermione. What is this ? sport ? 
 
 Leontes. Bear the boy hence ; he shall not come about her; 
 Away with him ! — You, my lords, 60 
 
 Look on her, mark her well; be but about 
 
62 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 To say ' she is a goodly lady,' and 
 
 The justice of your hearts will thereto add 
 
 "T is pity she 's not honest, honourable.' 
 
 Praise her but for this her without-door form, 
 
 Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight 
 
 The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands 
 
 That calumny doth use — O, I am out — 
 
 That mercy does, for calumny will sear 
 
 Virtue itself; these shrugs, these hums and ha's, 70 
 
 When you have said ' she 's goodly,' come between 
 
 Ere you can say ' she 's honest :' but be 't known, 
 
 From him that has most cause to grieve it should be, 
 
 She 's an adulteress. 
 
 Hermmie. Should a villain say so. 
 
 The most replenish'd villain in the world, 
 He were as much more villain ; you, my lord, 
 Do but mistake. ' : 
 
 Leontes. You have mistook, my lady, 
 
 Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing ! 
 Which I '11 not call a creature of thy place. 
 Lest barbarism, making me the precedent, 80 
 
 Should a like language use to all degrees, 
 And mannerly distinguishment leave out 
 Betwixt the prince and beggar. — I have said 
 She 's an adulteress; I have said with whom : 
 More, she 's a traitor, and Camillo is 
 A federary with her, and one that knows 
 What she should shame to know herself 
 But with her most vile principal, that she 's 
 A bed-swerver, even as bad as those 
 
 That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy 90 
 
 To this their late escape. 
 
 Hermione. No, by my life, 
 
 Privy to none of this. [How will this grieve you,* 
 When you shall come to clearer knowledge, thatj 
 
ACT II. SCENE I 63 
 
 You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord, 
 You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
 You did mistake. 
 
 Leo7ites. No; if I mistake 
 
 In those foundations which I build upon, 
 The centre is not big enough to bear 
 A school-boy's top. — Away with her ! to prison ! 
 He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty 100 
 
 But that he speaks. 
 
 Hermioiie. There 's some ill planet reigns; 
 
 I must be patient till the heavens look 
 With an aspect more favourable. — Good my lords, 
 I am not prone to weeping, As our sex 
 Commonly are; the want of which vain dew 
 Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have 
 That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns 
 Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords, 
 W^ith thoughts so qualified as your charities 
 Shall best instruct you, measure me; — and so no 
 
 The. king's will be perform'd ! 
 
 Leontes. Shall I be heard ? 
 
 Ilermiojie. Who is 't that goes with me? — Beseech your 
 highness, 
 My women may be with me; for you see 
 My plight requires it. — Do not weep, good fools; 
 There is no cause : when you shall know your mistress 
 Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears 
 As I come out. This action I now go on 
 Is for my better grace. — Adieu, my lord': 
 I never wish'd to see you sorry; now 
 I trust I shall. — My women, come; you have leave. 120 
 
 Leontes. Go, do our bidding; hence ! 
 
 \Exit Queen, guarded ; with Ladies. 
 
 I Lord. Beseech your highness, call the queen again. 
 
 Antigonus. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice 
 
64 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, 
 Yourself, your queen, your son. 
 
 I Lord. For her, my lord, 
 
 I dare my life lay down, and will do 't, sir. 
 Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless 
 I' the eyes of heaven and to you, — I mean, 
 In this which you accuse her. 
 
 Antigonus. If it prove 
 
 She 's otherwise, I '11 keep my stables where 130 
 
 I lodge my wife; I '11 go in couples with her; 
 Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her : 
 For every inch of woman in the world, 
 A}'', every dram of woman's flesh, is false, 
 If she be. 
 
 Leontes. Hold your peaces. 
 
 I Lord. Good my lord, — 
 
 Antigonus, It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: 
 You are abus'd, and by some putter-on 
 That will be damn'd for 't ; would I knew the villain, 
 I would land-damn him. 
 
 Leontes. Cease; no more. 
 
 You smell this business with a sense as cold 140 
 
 As is a dead man's nose ; but I do see 't and feel 't, 
 As you feel doing thus, and see withal 
 The instruments that feel, 
 
 Antigonus. If it be so, 
 
 We need no grave to bury honesty; 
 There 's not a grain of it the face to sweeten 
 Of the whole dungy 'earth. 
 
 Leontes. What ! lack I credit ? 
 
 I Lord. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord. 
 Upon this ground ; and more it would content me 
 To have her honour true than your suspicion, 
 Be blam'd for 't how you might. 
 
 Leontes. Why, what need we 150 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. (5 5 
 
 Commune with you of this, but rather follow 
 Our forceful instigation ? Our prerogative 
 Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness 
 Imparts this; which if you, or stupefied 
 Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not 
 Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves 
 We need no more of your advice : the matter, 
 The loss, the gain, the ordering on 't, is all 
 Properly ours. 
 
 Antigonus. And I wish, my liege. 
 You had only in your silent judgment tried it, t6o 
 
 Without more overture, 
 
 Leoiites. How could that be ? 
 
 Either thou art most ignorant by age, 
 Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight, 
 Added to their familiarity, — 
 Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture, 
 That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation 
 But only seeing, all other circumstances 
 Made up to the deed, — doth push on this proceeding. 
 Yet, for a greater confirmation, — 
 
 For in an act of this importance 't were 170 
 
 Most piteous to be wild, — I have dispatch'd in post 
 To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple, 
 Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know 
 Of stufif'd sufficiency. Now from the oracle 
 They will bring all ; whose spiritual counsel had, 
 Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well 1 
 
 I Lord. Well done, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. Though I am satisfied and need no more 
 Than what I know, yet shall the oracle 
 
 Give rest to the minds of others, such as he 180 
 
 Whose ignorant credulity will not 
 Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good 
 From our free person she should be confin'd, 
 
 E 
 
66 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence 
 Be left her to perform. Come, follow us ; 
 We are to speak in public ; for this business 
 Will raise us all. 
 
 Antigonus. [Aside] To laughter, as I take it, 
 If the good truth were known. • \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. A Prison. 
 Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Attendants. 
 
 Paulina. The keeper of the prison, call to him ; 
 Let him have knowledge who I am. — \Exit Gentleman?^ 
 
 Good lady, 
 No-court in Europe is too good for thee; 
 What dost thou then in prison ? — 
 
 Re-enter Gentleman, with the Gaoler. 
 Now, good sir. 
 You know me, do you not ? 
 
 Gaoler. For a worthy lady, 
 
 And one whom much I honour. 
 
 Paulina. Pray you then. 
 
 Conduct me to the queen. 
 
 Gaoler. I may not, madam ; 
 
 To the contrary I have express commandment. 
 
 Paulina. Here 's ado. 
 To lock up honesty and honour from lo 
 
 The access of gentle visitors ! — Is 't lawful, pray you. 
 To see her women? any of them? Emilia? 
 
 Gaoler. So please you, madam. 
 To put apart these your attendants, I 
 Shall bring Emilia forth. 
 
 Paulina. I pray now, call her. — 
 
 Withdraw yourselves. \Exeunt Gentleinan and Attendants. 
 
 Gaoler. And, madam, 
 
 I must be present at your conference. 
 
ACT II. SCENE II 67 
 
 Paulina. Well, be 't so, prithee. — [Exit Gaoler. 
 
 Here 's such ado to make no stain a stain 
 As passes colouring. — 
 
 Re-enter Gaoler, with Emilia. 
 
 Dear gentlewoman, 20 
 
 How fares our gracious lady ? 
 
 Emilia. As well as one so great and so forlorn 
 May hold together ; on her frights and griefs. 
 Which never tender lady hath borne greater, 
 She is something before her time deliver'd. 
 
 Paulina. A boy? 
 
 Emilia. A daughter, and a goodly babe, 
 
 Lusty and like to live: the queen receives 
 Much comfort in 't; says ' My poor prisoner, 
 I am innocent as you.' 
 
 Paulifia. I dare be sworn. — 
 
 These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, beshrew them ! 30 
 He must be told on 't, and he shall : the office 
 Becomes a woman best; I '11 take 't upon me. 
 If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister 
 And never to my red-look'd anger be 
 The trumpet any more. — Pray you, Emilia, 
 Commend my best obedience to the queen; 
 If she dares trust me with her little babe, 
 I '11 show 't the king, and undertake to be 
 Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know 
 How he may soften at the sight o' the child ; 40 
 
 The silence often of pure innocence 
 Persuades when speaking fails. 
 
 Emilia. Most worthy madam, 
 
 Your honour and your goodness is so evident 
 That your free undertaking cannot miss 
 A thriving issue; there is no lady living 
 So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship 
 
68 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 To visit the next room, I '11 presently 
 
 Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer; 
 
 Who but to-day hammer'd of this design, 
 
 But durst not tempt a minister of honour, so 
 
 Lest she should be denied. 
 
 Paulina. Tell her, Emilia, 
 
 I '11 use that tongue I have ; if wit flow from 't 
 As boldness from my bosom,Jet 't not be doubted 
 I shall do good. 
 
 Emilia. Now be you blest for it ! 
 
 I '11 to the queen ; please you, come something nearer. 
 
 Gaoler. Madam, if 't please the queen to send the babe, 
 I know not what I shall incur to pass it. 
 Having no warrant. 
 
 Paulina. You need not fear it, sir ; 
 
 This child was prisoner to the womb, and is 
 By law and process of great nature thence eo 
 
 Freed and enfranchis'd, not a party to 
 The anger of the king, nor guilty of. 
 If any be, the trespass of the queen. 
 
 Gaoler. I do believe it, 
 
 Paulina. Do not you fear ; upon mine honour, I 
 Will stand betwixt you and danger. [^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. A Room in the Palace of Leontes. 
 Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and Servants. 
 
 Leontes. Nor night nor day no rest ; it is but weakness 
 To bear the matter thus, mere weakness. If 
 The cause were not in being, — part o' the cause. 
 She the adulteress ; for the harlot king 
 Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank 
 And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she 
 I can hook to me: — say that she were gone, 
 Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest 
 Might come to me again. — Who 's there 1 
 
ACT II. SCENE III. 
 
 69 
 
 I Sej'vaiit. My lord? 
 
 Leontes. How does the boy ? 
 
 I Servant. He took good rest to-night ; 
 
 'T is hop'd his sickness is discharg'd. n 
 
 Leontes. To see his nobleness ! 
 Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, 
 He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply, 
 Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on 't in himself, 
 Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, 
 And downright languish'd. — Leave me solely; go. 
 See how he fares. — \Exit Servant.'] Fie, fie ! no thought of 
 
 him; 
 The very thought of my revenges that way 
 Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty, 20 
 
 And in his parties, his alliance. Let him be 
 Until a time may serve; for present vengeance, 
 Take it on ber. Camillo and Polixenes 
 Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow ; 
 They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor 
 Shall she within my power. 
 
 Enter Paulina, with a child. 
 
 1 Lord. You must not enter. 
 Paulina. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me; 
 
 Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, 
 Than the queen's life ? a gracious innocent soul, 
 More free than he is jealous. 
 
 Antig07ius. That 's enough. 30 
 
 2 Servant. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; com- 
 
 manded 
 None should come at him. 
 
 Paulina. Not so hot, good sir ; 
 
 I come to bring him sleep. 'T is such as you, 
 That creep like shadows by him and do sigh 
 At each his needless heavings, such as you 
 
70 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Nourish the cause of his awaking; I 
 Do come with words as medicinal as true, 
 Honest as either, to purge him of that humour 
 That presses him from sleep. 
 
 Leontes. What noise there, ho ? 
 
 Paulina. No noise, my lord ; but needful conference 40 
 About some gossips for your highness. 
 
 Leontes. How ! — 
 
 Away with that audacious lady ! Antigonus, 
 I charg'd thee that she should not come about me ; 
 I knew she would. 
 
 Antigonus. I told her so, my lord, 
 
 On your displeasure's peril and on mine, 
 She should not visit you. 
 
 Leontes. What, canst not rule her ? 
 
 Paulina. From all dishonesty he can ; in this. 
 Unless he take the course that you have done. 
 Commit me for committing honour, trust it. 
 He shall not rule me. 
 
 Antigonus. La you now, you hear] so 
 
 When she will take the rein I let her run ; 
 But she '11 not stumble. 
 
 Paulina. Good my liege, I come, — 
 
 And, I beseech you, hear me, who professes 
 Myself your loyal servant, your physician, 
 Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dares 
 Less appear so in comforting your evils. 
 Than such as most seem yours, — I say, I come 
 From your good queen. 
 
 L^eontes. Good queen ! 
 
 Paulina. Good queen, my lord, 
 
 Good queen, I say good. queen; 
 
 And would by combat make her good, so were I 60 
 
 A man, the worst about you. 
 
 Leontes. Force her hence. 
 
ACT 11. SCENE III. 
 
 71 
 
 Paulina. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes 
 First hand me; on mine own accord I '11 off, 
 But first I '11 do my errand. — The good queen, 
 For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter, — 
 Here 't is, — commends it to your blessing. 
 
 \Laying down the child. 
 
 Leofites. Out ! 
 
 A mankind witch ! Hence with her, out o' door ! 
 A most intelligencing bawd ! 
 
 Paiili?ia. Not so : 
 
 I am as ignorant in that as you 
 
 In so entitling me, and no less honest 70 
 
 Than you are mad ; which is enough, I '11 warrant, 
 As this world goes, to pass for honest. 
 
 Leontes. Traitors ! 
 
 Will you not push her out ? Give her the bastard.— 
 Thou dotard ! thou art woman-tir'd, unroosted 
 By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard ; 
 Take 't up, I say; give 't to thy crone. 
 
 Paulina. For ever 
 
 Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou 
 Takest up the princess by that forced baseness 
 Which he has put upon 't ! 
 
 Leontes. He dreads his wife. 
 
 Paulina. So I would you did ; then 't were past all doubt 
 You 'd call your children yours. 
 
 Leontes. A nest of traitors ! si 
 
 Antigonus. I am none, by this good light. 
 
 Paulina. Nor I, nor any 
 
 But one that 's here, and that 's himself, for he 
 The sacred honour of himself, his queen's. 
 His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander. 
 Whose sting is sharper than the sword's ; and will not— 
 For, as the case now stands, it is a curse 
 He cannot be compell'd to 't— once remove 
 
72 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 The root of his opinion, which is rotten 
 As ever oak or stone was sound. 
 
 Leontes. A callat go 
 
 Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband 
 And now baits me ! — This brat is none of mine; 
 It is the issue of Polixenes : 
 Hence with it, and together with the dam 
 Commit them to the fire! 
 
 Paulina. It is yours ; 
 
 And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, 
 So like you, 't is the worse. — Behold, my lords. 
 Although the print be little, the whole matter 
 And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip. 
 
 The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, loo 
 
 The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, 
 His smiles. 
 
 The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger; — 
 And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it 
 So like to him that got it, if thou hast 
 The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours 
 No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does. 
 Her children not her husband's ! 
 
 Leontes. A gross hag ! — 
 
 And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, 
 That wilt not'stay her tongue. 
 
 Antigonus. Hang all the husbands no 
 
 That cannot do that feat, you '11 leave yourself 
 Hardly one subject. 
 
 Leontes. Once more, take her hence. 
 
 Paulina. A most unworthy and unnatural lord 
 Can do no more. 
 
 Leo7ites. I '11 ha' thee burnt. 
 
 Paulina. I care not; 
 
 It is an heretic that makes the fire. 
 Not she which burns in 't. I '11 not call you tyrant 3 
 
ACT II. SCENE IIL 73 
 
 But this most cruel usage of your queen, 
 
 Not able to produce more accusation 
 
 Than your own weak-hing'd fancy, something savours 
 
 Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you, 120 
 
 Yea, scandalous to the world. 
 
 Leontes. On your allegiance, 
 
 Out of the chamber with her ! Were I a tyrant, 
 Where were her life ? she durst not call me so, 
 If she did know me one. Away with her ! 
 
 Paulina. I pray you, do not push me; I '11 be gone. 
 Look to your babe, my lord; 't is yours : Jove send her 
 A better guiding spirit ! — What needs these hands t — 
 You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies, 
 Will never do him good, not one of you. — 
 So, so. — Farewell ; we are gone. ^Exit. 
 
 Leontes. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this. — 131 
 My child ? away with 't ! — Even thou, that hast 
 A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence 
 And see it instantly consum'd with fire ; 
 Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight; 
 Within this hour bring me word 't is done, 
 And by good testimony, or I '11 seize thy life, 
 With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse 
 And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so; 
 The bastard brains with these my proper hands 140 
 
 Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire; 
 For thou set'st on thy wife. 
 
 Antigonus. I did not, sir; 
 
 These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, 
 Can clear me in 't. 
 
 Lords. We can ; my royal liege, 
 
 He is not guilty of her coming hither. 
 
 Leo7ites. You 're liars all. 
 
 I Lord. Beseech your highness, give us better credit: 
 We have always truly serv'd you, and beseech you 
 
^4 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 So to esteem of us; and on our knees we beg, 
 
 As recompense of our dear services 150 
 
 Past and to come, that you do change this purpose. 
 
 Which being so horrible, so bloody, must 
 
 Lead on to some foul issue : we all kneel. v 
 
 Leontes. I am a feather for each wind that blowsAf— 
 Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel 
 And call me father ? better burn it now 
 Than curse it then. But be it; let it live. — 
 It shall not neither. — You, sir, come you hither; 
 You that have been so tenderly officious 
 With Lady Margery, your midwife there, 160 
 
 To save this bastard's life, — for 't is a bastard, 
 So sure as this beard 's grey, — what will you adventure 
 To save this brat's life ? 
 
 Antigonus. Any thing, my lord, 
 
 That my ability may undergo 
 And nobleness impose; at least thus much: 
 I '11 pawn the little blood which I have left 
 To save the innocent; — any thing possible. 
 
 Leontes. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword 
 Thou wilt perform my bidding. 
 
 Antigonus. I will, my lord. 
 
 Leontes. Mark and perform it, see'st thou ; for the fail 170 
 Of any point in 't shall not only be 
 Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife, 
 Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee, 
 As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry 
 This female bastard hence, and that thou bear it 
 To some remote and desert place quite out 
 Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it, 
 Without more mercy, to it own protection 
 And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune 
 It came to us, I do in justice charge thee, 180 
 
 On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture. 
 
ACT IL SCENE III. 
 
 75 
 
 That thou commend it strangely to some place 
 Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up. 
 
 Aiitigonus. I swear to do this, though a present death 
 Had been more merciful. — Come on, poor babe; 
 Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens 
 To be thy nurses ! Wolves and bears, they say, 
 Casting their savageness aside, have done 
 Like offices of pity. — Sir, be prosperous 
 In more than this deed does require ! And blessing 190 
 
 Against this cruelty fight on thy side, 
 Poor thing, condemn'd to loss ! \^Exit with the child. 
 
 Leontes. No, I '11 not rear 
 
 Another's issue. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Servant. Please your highness, posts 
 
 From those you sent to the oracle are come 
 An hour since; Cleomenes and Dion, 
 Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed. 
 Hasting to the court. 
 
 I Lord. So please you, sir, their speed 
 
 Hath been beyond account. 
 
 Leontes. Twenty-three days 
 
 They have been absent : 't is good speed ; foretells 
 The great Apollo suddenly will have 200 
 
 The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords ; 
 Summon a session, that we may arraign 
 Our most disloyal lady, for, as she hath 
 Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have 
 A just and open trial. While she lives 
 My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me, 
 And think upon my bidding. {Exeunt. 
 
A SEAPORT IN SICILY. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. A Seaport in Sicilia. 
 Enter Cleomenes and Dion. 
 
 Cleomenes. The climate 's delicate, the air most sweet, 
 Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing 
 The common praise it bears. 
 
 Dion. I shall report, 
 
 For most it caught me, the celestial habits, — 
 Methinks I so should term them, — and the reverence 
 Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice ! 
 
ACT III. SCENE II. 77 
 
 How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly 
 It was i' the offering ! 
 
 Cleomenes. But of all, the burst 
 
 And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle, 
 Kin to Jove's thunder, so surpris'd my sense, lo 
 
 That I was nothing. 
 
 Dion. If the event o' the journey 
 
 Prove as successful to the queen, — O, be 't so ! — 
 As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy. 
 The time is worth the use on 't. 
 
 Cleomenes. Great Apollo 
 
 Turn all to the best ! These proclamations. 
 So forcing faults upon Hermione, 
 I little like. 
 
 Dion. The violent carriage of it 
 
 Will clear or end the business; when the oracle, 
 Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up, 
 Shall the contents discover, something rare 20 
 
 Even then will rush to knowledge. — Go : fresh horses ! — 
 And gracious be the issue ! {Exetmt. 
 
 Scene II. A Cou7't of Justice. 
 Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers. 
 
 Leontes. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce. 
 Even pushes 'gainst our heart; the party tried 
 The daughter of a king, our wife, and one 
 Of us too much belov'd.— Let us be clear'd 
 Of being tyrannous, since we so openly 
 Proceed in justice, which shall have due course. 
 Even to the guilt or the purgation. 
 Produce the prisoner. 
 
 Officer. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen 
 Appear in person here in court. — Silence ! 10 
 
78 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Enter Hermione guarded; Paulina and Ladies attending. 
 
 Leontes. Read the indictment. 
 
 Officer. [Reads] ^Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes^ 
 king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high 
 treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohe- 
 mia, and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of 
 our sovereign lord the kifig, thy royal husjjand ; the pretence 
 whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, thou, Her- 
 mione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, 
 didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away 
 by night. ^ 20 
 
 Hermione. Since what I am to say must be but that 
 Which contradicts my accusation, and 
 The testimony on my part no other 
 But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me 
 To say ' not guilty;' mine integrity 
 Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, 
 Be so receiv'd. But thus : if powers divine 
 Behold our human actions, as they do, 
 I doubt not then but innocence shall make 
 False accusation blush and tyranny 3° 
 
 Tremble at patience. — You, my lord, best know, 
 Who least will seem to do so, my past life 
 Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, 
 As I am now unhappy; which is more 
 Than history can pattern, though devis'd 
 And play'd to take spectators. For behold me, 
 A fellow of the royal bed, which owe 
 A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, 
 The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing, 
 To prate and talk for life and honour fore 40 
 
 Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it 
 As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honour, 
 'T is a derivative from me to mine. 
 
ACT III. SCENE 11. 
 
 79 
 
 And only that I stand for. I appeal 
 
 To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes 
 
 Came to your court, how I was in your grace, 
 
 How merited to be so; since he came, 
 
 With what encounter so uncurrent I 
 
 Have strain'd to appear thus : if one jot beyond 
 
 The bound of honour, or in act or will 50 
 
 That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts 
 
 Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin 
 
 Cry fie upon my grave ! 
 
 Leontes. I ne'er heard yet 
 
 That any of these bolder vices wanted 
 Less impudence to gainsay what they did 
 Than to perform it first. 
 
 Hermione. That 's true enough; 
 
 Though 't is a saying, sir, not due to me. 
 
 Leontes. You will not own it. 
 
 Hermione. More than mistress of 
 
 Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not 
 At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, 60 
 
 With whom I am accus'd, I do confess 
 I lov'd him as in honour he requir'd. 
 With such a kind of love as might become 
 A lady like me, with a love even such. 
 So and no other, as yourself commanded ; 
 Which not to have done I think had been in me 
 Both disobedience and ingratitude 
 To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke, 
 Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely 
 That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, 70 
 
 I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd 
 For me to try how : all I know of it 
 Is that Camillo was an honest man ; 
 And why he left your court, the gods themselves, 
 Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. 
 
8q the WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Leontes. You knew of his departure, as you know 
 What you have underta'en to do in 's absence. 
 
 Hermione. Sir, 
 You speak a language that I understand not; 
 My life stands in the level of your dreams, 80 
 
 Which I' 11 lay down. 
 
 Leontes. Your actions are my dreams ; 
 
 You had a bastard by Polixenes, 
 
 And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame, — 
 Those of your fact are so — so past all truth : 
 Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as 
 Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, 
 No father owning it, — which is, indeed, 
 More criminal in thee than it, — so thou 
 Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage 
 Look for no less than death. 
 
 Hermione. Sir, spare your threats; 90 
 
 The bug which you would fright me with I seek. 
 To me can life be no commodity: 
 The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, 
 I do give lost; for I do feel it gone. 
 But know not how it went. My second joy 
 And first-fruits of my body, from his presence 
 I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort, 
 Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast. 
 The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth, 
 Hal'd out to murther; myself on every post 100 
 
 Proclaim'd a strumpet; with immodest hatred 
 The child-bed privilege denied, which longs 
 To women of all fashion ; lastly, hurried 
 Here to this place, i' the open air, before 
 I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, 
 Tell me what blessings I have here alive. 
 That I should fear to die ? Therefore proceed. 
 But yet hear this; mistake me not: for life. 
 
ACT III. SCENE II. 8 1 
 
 I prize it not a straw; but for mine honour, 
 
 Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd no 
 
 Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else 
 
 But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 
 
 'T is rigour and not law.— Your honours all, 
 
 I do refer me to the oracle ; 
 
 Apollo be my judge ! 
 
 I Lord. This your request 
 
 Is altogether just; therefore bring forth, 
 And in Apollo's name, his oracle. \Exeiuit certain Officers. 
 
 Hermione. The Emperor of Russia was my father ; 
 O that he were alive, and here beholding 
 His daughter's trial ! that he did but see 120 
 
 The flatness of my misery,— yet with eyes 
 Of pity, not revenge ! 
 
 Re-enter Officers, with Cleomenes and Dion. 
 
 Officer. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, 
 That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have 
 Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought 
 This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd 
 Of great Apollo's priest, and that since then 
 You have not dar'd to break the holy seal 
 Nor read the secrets in 't. 
 
 Cleomenes, Dion. All this we swear. 
 
 Leontes. Break up the seals and read. 130 
 
 Officer. [Reads] 'Hermione is chaste; Folixe?ies blameless ; 
 Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his in?to- 
 cent babe truly begotten ; and the king shall live without an 
 heir, tf that which is lost be notfoimd.' 
 
 Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo ! 
 
 Her?nio?ie. Praised ! 
 
 Leontes. Hast thou read truth ? 
 
 Officer. Ay, my lord ; even so 
 
 As it is here set down. 
 
 F 
 
82 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Leontes. There is no truth at all i' the oracle : 
 The sessions shall proceed ; this is mere falsehood. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Servant. My lord the king, the king ! 
 
 Leofites. What is the business? 
 
 Servant. O sir, I shall be hated to report it ! 141 
 
 The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear 
 Of the queen's speed, is gone. 
 
 Leontes. How ! gone ! 
 
 Servant. Is dead. 
 
 Leo?ites. Apollo 's angry ; and the heavens themselves 
 Do strike at my injustice. — \Hermmie swoons^ How now 
 there ! 
 
 Paulina. This news is mortal to the queen ; look down 
 And see what death is doing. 
 
 Leontes. Take her hence : 
 
 Her heart is but o'ercharg'd ; she will recover. — 
 I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion. — 
 Beseech you, tenderly apply to her 150 
 
 Some remedies for life. — 
 
 [Exeimt Paulina and Ladies^ with LLermione. 
 Apollo, pardon 
 My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle ! 
 I '11 reconcile me to Polixenes, 
 New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo, 
 Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy; 
 For, being transported by my jealousies 
 To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose 
 Camillo for the minister to poison 
 My friend Polixenes ; which had been done, 
 But that the good mind of Camillo tardied 160 
 
 My swift command, though I with death and with 
 Reward did threaten and encourage him, 
 Not doing 't and being done. He, most humane 
 
ACT III. SCENE 11. 83 
 
 And fiird with honour, to my kingly guest 
 Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here, 
 Which you knew great, and to the hazard 
 Of all incertainties himself commended, 
 No richer than his honour. — How he glisters 
 Thorough my rust ! and how his piety 
 Does my deeds make the blacker ! 
 
 Re-enter Paulina. 
 
 Paulina. Woe the while ! 170 
 
 O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, 
 Break too. 
 
 I Lord. What fit is this, good lady ? 
 
 Paulina. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me ? 
 What wheels? racks.? fires? what flaying? boiling 
 In leads or oils? what old or newer torture 
 Must I receive, whose every word deserves 
 To taste of thy most worst ? Thy tyranny 
 Together working with thy jealousies. 
 Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 
 For girls of nine, — O, think what they have done, 180 
 
 And then run mad indeed, stark mad ! for all 
 Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it. 
 That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 't was nothing; 
 That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 
 And damnable ingrateful : nor was 't much, 
 Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour. 
 To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, 
 More monstrous standing by : whereof I reckon 
 The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter 
 To be or none or little ; though a devil 190 
 
 Would have shed water out of fire ere done 't : 
 Nor is 't directly laid to thee, the death 
 Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts, 
 Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart 
 
84 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 That could conceive a gross and foolish sire 
 
 Blemish'd his gracious dam : this is not, no, 
 
 Laid to thy answer: but the last,— O lords. 
 
 When I have said, cry woe ! — the queen, the queen, 
 
 The sweet'st, dear'st creature 's dead, and vengeance for 't 
 
 Not dropp'd down yet. 
 
 I Lord. The higher powers forbid ! 200 
 
 Paulina. I say she 's dead ; I '11 swear 't. If word nor 
 oath 
 Prevail not, go and see ; if you can bring 
 Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye. 
 Heat outwardly or breath within, I '11 serve you 
 As I would do the gods.— But, O thou tyrant! 
 Do not repent these things, for they are heavier 
 Than all thy woes can stir ; therefore betake thee 
 To nothing but despair. A thousand knees 
 Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, 
 Upon a barren mountain, and still winter 210 
 
 In storm perpetual, could not move the gods 
 To look that way thou wert. 
 
 Leontes. Go on, go on ! 
 
 Thou canst not speak too much ; I have deserv'd 
 
 All tongues to talk their bitterest. 
 
 I Lord. Say no more; 
 
 Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault 
 
 I' the boldness of your speech. 
 
 Paulina. I am sorry for 't; 
 
 All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, 
 
 I do repent. Alas ! I have show'd too much 
 
 The rashness of a woman ; he is touch'd 
 
 To the noble heart.— What 's gone and what 's past help 
 
 Should be past grief: do not receive affliction 221 
 
 At my petition ; I beseech you, rather 
 
 Let me be punish'd, that have minded you 
 
 Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, 
 
ACT III. SCENE III. 85 
 
 Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman ; 
 
 The love I bore your queen — lo, fool again ! — 
 
 I '11 speak of her no more, nor of your children ; 
 
 I '11 not remember you of my own lord, 
 
 Who is lost too : take your patience to you, 
 
 And I '11 say nothing. 
 
 Leoiites. Thou didst speak but well 230 
 
 When most the truth ; which I receive much better 
 Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me 
 To the dead bodies of my queen and son : 
 One grave shall be for both ; upon them shall 
 The causes of their death appear, unto 
 Our shame perpetual. Once a day I '11 visit 
 The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there 
 Shall be my recreation ; so long as nature 
 Will bear up with this exercise, so long 
 I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me 240 
 
 Unto these sorrows. \Exeimt. 
 
 Scene III. Bohemia. A Desert Cowitry near the Sea. 
 Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner. 
 
 Aiitigomis. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch 'd 
 upon 
 The deserts of Bohemia? 
 
 Mariner. Ay, my lord, and fear 
 
 We have landed in ill time; the skies look grimly 
 And threaten present blusters. In my conscience. 
 The heavens with that we have in hand are angry 
 And frown upon 's. 
 
 Afitigoniis. Their sacred wills be done ! — Go, get aboard ; 
 Look to thy bark : I '11 not be long before 
 I call upon thee. 
 
 Mariner. Make your best haste, and go not 10 
 
 Too far i' the land : 't is like to be loud weather j 
 
86 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Besides, this place is famous for the creatures 
 Of prey that keep upon 't. 
 
 Antigoniis. Go thou away ; 
 
 I '11 follow instantly. 
 
 Mariner. I am glad at heart 
 
 To be so rid o' the business. \Exit. 
 
 Antigonus. Come, poor babe : 
 
 I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits o' the dead 
 May walk again ; if such thing be, thy mother 
 Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream 
 So like a waking. To me comes a creature. 
 Sometimes her head on one side, some another ; 20 
 
 I never saw a vessel of like sorrow. 
 So fiU'd and so becoming : in pure white robes, 
 Like very sanctity, she did approach 
 My cabin where I lay ; thrice bow'd before me, 
 And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes 
 Became two spouts. The fury spent, anon 
 Did this break from her : ' Good Antigonus, 
 Since fate, against thy better disposition. 
 Hath made thy person for the thrower-out 
 Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, 30 
 
 Places remote enough are in Bohemia, 
 There weep and leave it crying ; and, for the babe 
 Is counted lost for ever, Perdita, 
 I prithee, call 't. For this ungentle business. 
 Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see 
 Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks, 
 She melted into air. Affrighted much, 
 I did in time collect myself and thought 
 This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys; 
 Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, 40 
 
 I will be squar'd by this. I do believe 
 Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that 
 Apollo would, this being indeed the issue 
 
ACT III. SCENE III. 87 
 
 Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, 
 
 Either for life or death, upon the earth 
 
 Of its right father. — Blossom, speed thee well ! 
 
 There lie, and there thy character : there these ; 
 
 Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty, 
 
 And still rest thine. — The storm begins. — Poor wretch, 
 
 That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd 5° 
 
 To loss and what may follow! — Weep I cannot, 
 
 But my heart bleeds ; and most accurs'd am I 
 
 To be by oath enjoin'd to this. — Farewell ! 
 
 The day frowns more and more ; thou 'rt like to have 
 
 A lullaby too rough : I never saw 
 
 The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour ! — 
 
 Well may I get aboard ! — This is the chase ; 
 
 I am gone for ever. \_Exit, pursued by a bear. 
 
 Enter a Shepherd. 
 Shepherd. I would there were no age between sixteen 
 and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the 
 rest; for there is nothing in the between but wronging the 
 ancientry, stealing, fighting — Hark you now ! Would any 
 but these boiled brains of nineteen and two- and -twenty 
 hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my 
 best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the 
 master ; if any where I have them, 't is by the seaside, 
 browsing of ivy. Good luck, an 't be thy will ! what have 
 we here ? Mercy on 's, a barne ; a very pretty barne ! A 
 boy or a child, I wonder ? A pretty one ; a very pretty 
 one. Sure, some scape; though I am not bookish, yet I 
 can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. I '11 take it 
 up for pity : yet I '11 tarry till my son come ; he hallooed 
 but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa ! 73 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 Clown. Hilloa, loa ! 
 
33 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Shepherd. What, art so near ? If thou 'It see a thing to 
 talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What 
 ailest thou, man? 
 
 Clown. I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land ! 
 but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky ; be- 
 twixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point. 
 
 Shepherd. Why, boy, how is it ? 8i 
 
 Clown. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, 
 how it takes up the shore ! but that 's not to the point. O, 
 the most piteous cry of the poor souls ! sometimes to see 
 'em, and not to see 'em ; now the ship boring the moon 
 with her main-mast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth, 
 as you 'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the 
 land-service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder- 
 bone j how he cried to me for help and said his name was 
 Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, 
 to see how the sea flap-dragoned it : but, first, how the poor 
 souls roared, and the sea mocked them ; and how the poor 
 gentleman roared and the bear mocked him, both roaring 
 louder than the sea or weather. 94 
 
 Shepherd. Name of mercy, when was this, boy ? 
 
 Clown. Now, now ; I have not winked since I saw these 
 sights : the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear 
 half dined on the gentleman ; he 's at it now. 
 
 Shepherd. Would I had been by, to have helped the old 
 man ! 100 
 
 Clowjt. I would you had been by the ship side, to have 
 helped her ; there your charity would have lacked footing. 
 
 Shepherd, Heavy matters ! heavy matters ! but look thee 
 here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou mettest with things dy- 
 ing, I with things new-born. Here 's a sight for thee ; look 
 thee, a bearing -cloth for a squire's child! look thee here; 
 take up, take up, boy; open 't. So, let 's see; it was told me 
 I should be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling; 
 open 't. What 's withm, boy? 
 
ACT III. SCENE III. 
 
 89 
 
 Cloivn. You 're a made old man; if the sins of your youth 
 are forgiven you, you 're well to live. Gold ! all gold ! m 
 
 Shepherd. This is fairy gold, boy, and 't will prove so; up 
 with 't, keep it close : home, home, the next way. We are 
 lucky, boy; and to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. 
 Let my sheep go ; come, good boy, the n.ext way home. 
 
 Clow?i. Go you the next way with your findings. I '11 go 
 see if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much 
 he hath eaten ; they are never curst but when they are hun- 
 gry : if there be any of him left, I '11 bury it. 
 
 Shepherd. That 's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by 
 that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to the sight of 
 him. 122 
 
 Clown. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' the 
 ground. 
 
 Shepherd. 'T is a lucky day, boy, and we '11 do good deeds 
 on 't. [Exeunt. 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Enter TiW£,, the Chorus. 
 
 Time. I that please some, try all, both joy and terror 
 Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error, 
 Now take upon me, in the name of Time, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE L 
 
 91 
 
 To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 
 
 To me or my swift passage, that I slide 
 
 O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried 
 
 Of that wide gap, since it is in my power 
 
 To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour 
 
 To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass 
 
 The same I am, ere ancient'st order was 10 
 
 Or what is now receiv'd : I witness to 
 
 The times that brought them in ; so shall I do 
 
 To the freshest things now reigning, and make stale 
 
 The glistering of this present, as my tale 
 
 Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing, 
 
 I turn my glass and give my scene such growing 
 
 As you had slept between. Leontes leaving, 
 
 The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving 
 
 That he shuts up himself, imagine me, 
 
 Gentle spectators, that I now may be 20 
 
 In fair Bohemia; and remember well, 
 
 I mentioii'd a son o' the king's, which Florizel 
 
 I now name to you; and with speed so pace 
 
 To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace 
 
 Equal with wondering. "V^liat of her ensues 
 
 I list not prophesy; but let Time's news 
 
 Be known when 't is brought forth. A shepherd's daughter. 
 
 And what to her adheres, which follows after, 
 
 Is the argument of Time. Of this allow, 
 
 If ever you have spent time worse ere now; 30 
 
 If never, yet that Time himself doth say 
 
 He wishes earnestly you never may. \Exit. 
 
^2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Scene 11. Bohemia. The Palace of Polixejies. 
 Enter Polixenes and Camillo. 
 
 Polixenes. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more import- 
 unate : 't is a sickness denying thee any thing ; a death to 
 grant this. 
 
 Camillo. It is fifteen years since I saw my country; though 
 I have for the most part been aired abroad, I desire to lay my 
 bones there. Besides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent 
 for me ; to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I 
 o'erween to think so, which is another spur to my departure. 
 
 Polixenes. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the 
 rest of thy services by leaving me now. The need I have of 
 thee thine own goodness hath made ; better not to have had 
 thee than thus to want thee. Thou, having made me busi- 
 nesses which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must 
 either stay to execute them thyself or take away with thee the 
 very services thou hast done; which if I have not enough con- 
 sidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee 
 shall be my study, and my profit therein the heaping friend- 
 ships. Of that fatal country, Sicilia, prithee speak no more ; 
 whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of 
 that penitent, as thou callest him, and reconciled king, my 
 brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and children 
 are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw- 
 est thou the Prince Florizel, my son 1 Kings are no less un- 
 happy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing 
 them when they have approved their virtues. 25 
 
 Camillo. Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What 
 his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown; but I have 
 missingly noted, he is of late much retired from court and is 
 less frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath 
 appeared. 
 
 Polixenes. I have considered so much, Camillo, and with 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 
 
 93 
 
 some care ; so far that I have eyes under my service which 
 look upon his removedness, from whom I have this intelli- 
 gence, that he is seldom from the house of a most homely 
 shepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and be- 
 yond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an 
 unspeakable estate. 
 
 Camillo. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a 
 daughter of most rare note; the report of heris extended 
 more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. 40 
 
 Polixenes. That 's likewise part of my intelligence, but, I 
 fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt ac- 
 company us to the place ; where we will, not appearing what 
 we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose 
 simplicity I think *it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's 
 resort thither. Prithee, be my present partner in this busi- 
 ness, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. 
 
 Camillo. I willingly obey your command. 
 
 Polixenes. My best Camillo ! We must disguise ourselves. 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. A Road near the Shepherd's Cottage. 
 Enter Autolycus, si?iging. 
 
 When daffodils begin to peer, 
 
 With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, 
 Why, then comes in the sweet 0' the year ; 
 
 For the red blood reigns in the ivintei^'s pale. 
 
 The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, 
 
 With heigh I the sweet birds, O, how they sing! 
 
 Doth set my plugging tooth on edge ; 
 For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. 
 
 The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, 
 
 With heigh! with heigh! tlie thrush and the jay, 10 
 Are sum?ner songs for me a fid my aimts, 
 
 While we lie tumbling in the hay. 
 
c,4 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore three- 
 pile, but now I am out of service ; 
 
 But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? 
 
 The pale moon shines by night ; 
 And when I wander here and there, 
 
 I then do most go right. 
 
 If tinkers may have leave to live, 
 
 And bear the soiv-skin budget, 20 
 
 Then my account I well may give, 
 
 And i?t the stocks avouch it. 
 
 My traffic is sheets ; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. 
 My father named me Autolycus; who being, as I am, littered 
 under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered 
 trifles. With die and drab I purchased this caparison, and 
 my revenue is the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too 
 powerful on the highway; beating and hanging are terrors to 
 me : for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it. — A 
 prize ! a prize ! 3° 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Clown. Let me see : every 'leven wether tods ; every tod 
 yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, — 
 what comes the wool to? 
 
 Autolycus. [Aside] If the springe hold, the cock 's mine. 
 
 Clown. I cannot do 't without counters. Let me see ; what 
 am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast ? Three pound of 
 sugar, five pound of currants, rice, — what will this sister of 
 mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mistress 
 of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me four-and- 
 twenty nosegays for the shearers, three-man songmen all, 
 and very good ones ; but they are most of them means and 
 bases; but one puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms 
 to hornpipes. I must have saffron to colour the warden 
 pies ; mace ; dates ? — none, that 's out of my note ; nutmegs. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. ^^ 
 
 seven ; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg ; four 
 pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun. 
 
 Autolycus. O that ever I was born ! 
 
 \GroveUing on the groimd. 
 
 Cloimi. r the name of me — 
 
 Autolycus. O, help me, help me ! pluck but off these rags ; 
 and then, death, death ! 5° 
 
 Clowfi. Alack, poor soul ! thou hast need of more rags to 
 lay on thee, rather than have these off. 
 
 Autolycus. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me 
 more than the stripes I have received, which are mighty 
 ones and millions. 
 
 Clown. Alas, poor man ! a million of beating may come 
 to a great matter. 
 
 Autolycus. I am robbed, sir, and beaten ; my money and 
 apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon 
 me. 60 
 
 Clown. What, by a horseman, or a footman ? 
 
 Autolycus. A footman, sweet sir, a footman. 
 
 Clown. Indeed, he should be a footman by the garments 
 he hast left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath 
 seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I '11 help thee; 
 come, lend me thy hand. 
 
 Autolycus. O, good sir, tenderly, O ! 
 
 Clown. Alas, poor soul ! 
 
 Autolycus. O, good sir, softly, good sir ! I fear, sir, my 
 shoulder-blade is out. 70 
 
 Clown. How now ! canst stand ? 
 
 Autolycus. [Picking his pocket'] Softly, dear sir; good sir, 
 softly. You ha' done me a charitable office. 
 
 Clown. Dost lack any money ? I have a little money for 
 thee. 
 
 Autolycus. No, good, sweet sir ; no, I beseech you, sir. I 
 have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto 
 whom I was going ; I shall there have money, or any thing 
 
^6 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 I want. Offer me no money, I pray you ; that kills my 
 heart. 8° 
 
 Clown. What manner of fellow was he that robbed you ? 
 
 Aiitolyais. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about 
 with troll-my-dames. I knew him once a servant of the 
 prince ; I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, 
 but he was certainly whipped out of the court. 
 
 ClowJi. His vices, you would say; there 's no virtue 
 whipped out of the court : they cherish it to make it stay 
 there-; and yet it will no more but abide. 88 
 
 Autolyciis. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man well : 
 he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a 
 bailiff; then he compassed a motion of the Prodigal Son, 
 and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my larid and 
 living lies ; and, having flown over many knavish professions, 
 he settled only in rogue ': some call him Autolycus. 
 
 Clown. Out upon him ! prig, for my life, prig; he haunts 
 wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. 
 
 Autolycus. Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that 's the rogue that 
 put me into this apparel. 
 
 Clown. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if 
 you had but looked big and spit at him, he 'd have run. loo 
 
 Autolycus. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter : I 
 am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him. 
 
 Clown. How do you now ? 
 
 Autolycus. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand 
 and walk. I will even take my leave of you, and pace soft- 
 ly towards my kinsman's. 
 
 Clown. Shall I bring thee on the way t 
 
 Autolycus. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir. 
 
 Clown. Then fare thee well ; I must go buy spices for our 
 sheep-shearing. no 
 
 Autolycus. Prosper you, sweet sir \^—\Exit Clown.'] Your 
 purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I '11 be 
 with you at your sheep - shearing too; if I make not this 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 97 
 
 cheat bring out another and the shearers prove sheep, let 
 me be unroU'd and my name put in the book of virtue ! 
 [Sings] Jog on^ jog on, the foot-path way, 
 And merrily hent the stik-a ; 
 A 7nerry heart goes all the day, 
 
 Your sad tires in a mile- a. \_Exit. 
 
 Scene IV. The Shepherd's Cottage. 
 Enter Florizel and Perdita. 
 
 Florizel. These your unusual weeds to each part of you 
 Do give a life ; no shepherdess, but Flora 
 Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing 
 Is as a meeting of the petty gods, 
 And you the queen on 't. 
 
 Perdita. Sir, my gracious lord, 
 
 To chide at your extremes it not becomes me ; 
 O, pardon, that I name them ! Your high self, 
 The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscur'd 
 With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid. 
 Most goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts 
 In every mess have folly and the feeders 
 Digest it with a custom, I should blush 
 To see you so attir'd, sworn, I think. 
 To show myself a glass. 
 
 Florizel. I bless the time 
 
 When my good falcon made her flight across 
 Thy father's ground. 
 
 Perdita. Now Jove afford you cause ! 
 
 To me the difference forges dread; your greatness 
 Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble 
 To think your father, by some accident, 
 Should pass this way as you did. O, the Fates ! 
 How would he look, to see his work so noble 
 Vilely bound up ? What would he say ? Or how 
 
 G 
 
gS THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold 
 The sternness of his presence ? 
 
 Florizel. Apprehend 
 
 Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, 
 Humbling their deities to love, have taken 
 The shapes of beasts upon them : Jupiter 
 Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune 
 A ram, and bleated j and the fire-rob'd god, 
 Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, 30 
 
 As I seem now. Their transformations 
 Were never for a piece of beauty rarer. 
 Nor in a way so chaste, — since my desires 
 Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts 
 Burn hotter than my faith. 
 
 Perdita. O, but, sir, 
 
 Your resolution cannot hold, when 't is 
 Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power of the king; 
 One of these two must be necessities. 
 
 Which then will speak, — that you must change this purpose, 
 Or I my life. 
 
 Florizel. Thou dearest Perdita, 4° 
 
 With these forc'd thoughts, I prithee, darken not 
 The mirth o' the feast. Or I '11 be thine, my fair, 
 Or not my father's. For I cannot be 
 Mine own, nor any thing to any, if 
 I be not thine. To this I am most constant, 
 Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle; 
 Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing 
 That you behold the while. Your guests are coming; 
 Lift up your countenance, as it were the day 
 Of celebration of that nuptial which 50 
 
 We two have sworn shall come. 
 
 Perdita. O lady Fortune, 
 
 Stand you auspicious ! 
 
 Florizel. See, your guests approach ; 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. gg 
 
 Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, 
 And let 's be red with mirth. 
 
 Efiter Shepherd, Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others, with 
 PoLiXENES ajid Camillo disguised. 
 
 Shepherd. Fie, daughter ! when my old wife liv'd, upon 
 This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, 
 Both dame and servant; welcom'd all, serv'd all; 
 Would sing her song and dance her turn ; now here, 
 At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle; 
 On his shoulder, and his ; her face o' fire 60 
 
 With labour; and the thing she took to quench it, 
 She would to each one sip. You are retir'd. 
 As if you were a feasted one, and not 
 The hostess of the meeting. Pray you, bid 
 These unknown friends to 's welcome; for it is 
 A way to make us better friends, more known. 
 Come, quench your blushes and present yourself 
 That which you are, mistress o' the feast; come on, 
 And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, 
 As your good flock shall prosper, 
 
 Perdita. [To Folixenes\ Sir, welcome ! 70 
 
 It is my father's will I should take on me 
 The hostess-ship o' the day. — \To Camillo^ You 're welcome, 
 
 sir. — 
 Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. — Reverend sirs, 
 For you there 's rosemary and rue; these keep 
 Seeming and savour all the winter long : 
 Grace and remembrance be to you both. 
 And welcome to our shearing ! 
 
 Folixenes. Shepherdess, — 
 
 A fair one are you — well you fit our ages 
 With flowers of winter. 
 
 Perdita. Sir, the year growing ancient, — 
 
 Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 80 
 
joo THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Of trembling winter, — the fairest flowers o' the season 
 
 Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, 
 
 Which some call nature's bastards : of that kind 
 
 Our rustic garden 's barren ; and I care not 
 
 To get slips of them. 
 
 PoUxenes. Wherefore, gentle maiden, 
 
 Do you neglect them ? 
 
 Perdita. For I have heard it said 
 
 There is an art which in their piedness shares 
 
 With great creating nature. 
 
 PoUxenes. Say there be ; 
 
 Yet nature is made better by no mean 
 
 But nature makes that mean : so, over that art 
 
 Which you say adds to nature, is an art 
 
 That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry 
 
 A gentler scion to the wildest stock. 
 
 And make conceive a bark of baser kind . 
 
 By bud of nobler race. This is an art 
 
 Which does mend nature, — change it rather ; but 
 
 The art itself is nature. 
 
 Perdita. So it is. 
 
 PoUxenes. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, 
 And do not call them bastards. 
 
 Perdita. I 'H not put 
 
 The dibble in earth to set one slip of them ; 
 No more than were I painted I would wish 
 This youth should say 't were well and only therefore 
 Desire to breed by me. — Here 's flowers for you : 
 Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; 
 The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun 
 And with him rises weeping: these are flowers 
 Of middle summer, and I think they are given 
 To men of middle age. You 're very welcome. 
 
 CamiUo. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, 
 And only live by gazing. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. iqi 
 
 Perdita. Out, alas ! no 
 
 You 'd be so lean, that blasts of January 
 
 AVouId blow you through and through. — Now, my fair'st 
 friend, 
 
 I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might 
 
 Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, 
 
 That w^ear upon your virgin branches yet 
 
 Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina, 
 
 For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall 
 
 From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, 
 
 That come before the swallow dares, and take 
 
 The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, 120 
 
 But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes 
 
 Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, 
 
 That die unmarried, ere they can behold 
 
 Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady 
 
 Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and 
 
 The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, 
 
 The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack, 
 
 To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend. 
 
 To strew him o'er and o'er ! 
 
 Florizel. What, like a corse ? 
 
 Perdita. No, like a bank for love to lie and play on, 130 
 
 Not like a corse; or if, — not to be buried, 
 
 But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers : 
 
 Methinks I play as I have seen them do 
 
 In Whitsun pastorals; sure this robe of mine 
 
 Does change my disposition. 
 
 Florizel. What you do 
 
 / Still betters w'hat is done. When you speak, sweet, 
 ! I 'd have you do it ever ; when you sing, 
 I I 'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, 
 i Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs. 
 
 To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you 140 
 
 A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 
 
102 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Nothing but that; move still, still so, 
 
 And own no other function. Each your doing, 
 
 So singular in each particular, 
 
 Crowns what you are doing in the present deed, 
 
 That all your acts are queens. 
 
 Perdita. O Doricles, 
 
 Your praises are too large ; but that your youth, 
 And the true blood which peeps so fairly through 't, 
 Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd, 
 With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 15° 
 
 You woo'd me the false way. 
 
 Florizel. I think you have 
 
 As little skill to fear as I have purpose 
 To put you to 't. — But come; our dance, I pray : 
 Your hand, my Perdita; so turtles pair, 
 That never mean to part. 
 
 Perdita. I 'H swear for 'em. 
 
 Polixenes. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 
 Ran on the green-sward; nothing she does or seems 
 But smacks of something greater than herself. 
 Too noble for this place. 
 
 Camillo. He tells her something 
 
 That makes her blood look out; good sooth, she is 160 
 
 The queen of curds and cream. 
 
 Clown. Come on, strike up ! 
 
 Dorcas. Mopsa must be your mistress; marry, garlic, 
 To mend her kissing with ! 
 
 Mopsa. Now, in good time ! 
 
 Clown. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. — 
 Come, strike up ! 
 
 \Miisic. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. 
 
 Polixenes. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this 
 Which dances with your daughter ? 
 
 Shepherd. They call him Doricles; and boasts himself 
 To have a worthy feeding : but I have it 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 103 
 
 Upon his own report and I believe it; 170 
 
 He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter : 
 
 I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon 
 
 Upon the water as he '11 stand and read 
 
 As 't were my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain, 
 
 I think there is not half a kiss to choose 
 
 Who loves another best. 
 
 Polixenes. She dances featly. 
 
 Shepherd. So she does any thing; though I report it, 
 That should be silent. If young Doricles 
 Do light upon her, she shall bring him that 
 Which he not dreams of 180 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Servant. O master, if you did but hear the pedler at the 
 door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; 
 no, the bagpipe could not move you. He sings several tunes 
 faster than you '11 tell money; he utters them as he had eat- 
 en ballads and all men's ears grew to his tunes. 
 
 Clown. He could never come better; he shall come in. I 
 love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter mer- 
 rily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung 
 lamentably. 189 
 
 Servant. He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; 
 no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves : he has the 
 prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is 
 strange; with such delicate burthen's of dildos and fadings, 
 *jump her and thump her;' and where some stretch-mouthed 
 rascal would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap 
 into the matter, he makes the maid to answer 'Whoop, do 
 me no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with 
 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.' 
 
 Polixenes. This is a brave fellow. 
 
 Clown. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited 
 fellow. Has he any unbraided- wares 1 201 
 
I04 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Servant. He hath ribbons of all the colours i' the rainbow; 
 points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly 
 handle, though they come to him by the gross; inkles, cad- 
 disses, cambrics, lawns : why, he sings 'em over as they were 
 gods or goddesses ; you would think a smock were a she- 
 angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about 
 the square on 't. 
 
 Clown. Prithee bring him in ; and let him approach singing. 
 
 Perdita. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words 
 in 's tunes. \Exit Servant. 
 
 Clown. You have of these pedlers, that have more in them 
 than you 'd think, sister. 213 
 
 Perdita. Ay, good brother, or go about to think. 
 
 Enter Autolycus, singing. 
 
 Lawn as white as driven snow; 
 
 Cyprus black as e'er was crow ; 
 
 Gloves as sweet as da77iask roses; 
 
 Masks for faces and for noses; 
 
 Bugle bracelet^ necklace amber. 
 
 Perfume for a lady's chamber; 220 
 
 Golden quoifs and stomachers, 
 
 For my lads to give their dears ; 
 
 Pi?is and poking-sticks of steel, 
 
 What maids lack from head to heel : 
 
 Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; 
 
 Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry: come buy. 
 Clown. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst 
 take no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it wnll 
 also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves, 
 
 Mopsa. I was promised them against the feast; but they 
 come not too late now. 231 
 
 Dorcas. He hath promised you more than that, or there 
 be liars. 
 
 Mopsa. He hath paid you all he promised you; may be, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 105 
 
 he has paid you more, which will shame you to give him 
 again. 
 
 Clowfi. Is there no manners left among maids ? Is there 
 not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to 
 whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling be- 
 fore all our guests? 't is well they are whispering: charm 
 your tongues, and not a word more. 241 
 
 Mopsa. I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry- 
 lace and a pair of sweet gloves. 
 
 Clown. Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the 
 way and lost all my money ? 
 
 Aiitolycics. And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; 
 therefore it behoves men to be wary. 
 
 Clown. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here. 
 
 Autolycus. I hope so, sir; for I have about me many par- 
 cels of charge. 250 
 
 Clown. What hast here ? ballads ? 
 
 Mopsa. Pray now, buy some; I love a ballad in print o' 
 life, for then we are sure they are true. 
 
 Autolycus. Here 's one to a very doleful tune, how a usu- 
 rer's wife longed to eat adders' heads and toads carbona- 
 doed. 
 
 Mopsa. Is it true, think you ? 
 
 Autolycus. Very true, and but a month old. 
 
 Dorcas. Bless me from marrying a usurer ! 
 
 Mopsa. Pray you now, buy it. 260 
 
 Clown. Come on, lay it by : and let 's first see moe bal- 
 lads; we '11 buy the other things anon. 
 
 Autolycus. Here 's another ballad of a fish, that appeared 
 upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty 
 thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against 
 the hard hearts of maids; it was thought she was a woman 
 and was turned into a cold fish. The ballad is very pitiful 
 and as true. 
 
 Dorcas. Is it true too, think you ? 
 
io6 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Autolycus. Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses more 
 than my pack will hold. 271 
 
 Clown. Lay it by too : another. 
 
 Autolycus. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. 
 
 Mopsa. Let 's have some merry ones. 
 
 Autolycus. Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to 
 the tune of ' Two maids wooing a man :' there 's scarce a 
 maid westward but she sings it ; 't is in request, I can tell 
 you. 
 
 Mopsa. We can both sing it : if thou 'It bear a part, thou 
 shalt hear; 't is in three parts. 280 
 
 Dorcas. We had the tune on 't a month ago. 
 
 Autolycus. I can bear my part ; you must know 't is my 
 occupation. Have at it with you. 
 
 Song. 
 
 Autolycus. Get you hence, for I must go 
 Where it fits Jiot you to know. 
 
 Dorcas. Whither "i 
 
 Mopsa. O^ whither 1 
 
 Dorcas. Whither"^ 
 
 Mopsa. // becomes thy oath full well^ 
 
 Thou to me thy secrets tell. 290 
 
 Dorcas. Me too, let me go thither. 
 
 Mopsa. Or thou goest to the gj^ange or mill. 
 
 Dorcas. If to either, thou dost ill. 
 
 Autolycus. Neither. 
 
 Dorcas. What, neither 1 
 
 Autolycus. Neither. 
 
 Dorcas. Thou hast sworn my love to be. 
 
 Mopsa. Thou hast sworn it more to me : 
 
 Then whither goest ? say, whither ? 
 
 Clown. We '11 have this song out anon by ourselves ; my 
 father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we '11 not 
 trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after me. — 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 107 
 
 Wenches, I '11 buy for you both.— Pedler, let 's have the first 
 
 choice.— Follow me, girls. \Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa. 
 
 Aiitolyais. And you shall pay well for 'em. 305 
 
 [Follows singing. 
 Will y oil buy any tape, 
 Or lace for your cape, 
 My dainty duck, my d-ear-a .? 
 Any silk, any thread. 
 
 Any toys for your head, 310 
 
 Of the new' St and fin'st,ftn'st wear-a? 
 Come to the pedler ; 
 Money 's a meddler, 
 That doth utter all 7nen's ware-a. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Servant. 
 
 Servant. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, 
 three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made them- 
 selves all men of hair, they call themselves Saltiers, and 
 they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry 
 of gambols, because they are not in 't; but they themselves 
 are o' the mind, if it be not too rough for some that know 
 little but bowling, it will please plentifully. 321 
 
 Shepherd. Away ! we '11 none on 't ; here has been too 
 much homely foolery already.— I know, sir, we weary you. 
 
 Polixenes. You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let 's 
 see these four threes of herdsmen. 
 
 Servant. One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath 
 danced before the king ; and not the worst of the three but 
 jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire. 
 
 Shepherd. Leave your prating : since these good men are 
 pleased, let them come in ; but quickly now. 330 
 
 Servant. Why, they stay at door, sir. \Exit. 
 
 Here a dance of twelve Satyrs. 
 
 Polixenes. O, father, you '11 know more of that hereafter.— 
 \To Camillo^ Is it not too far gone ?— 'T is time to part them. 
 
io8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 He 's simple- and tells much. — \To FlorizeP^ How now, fair 
 
 shepherd ! 
 Your heart is full of something that does take 
 Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young 
 And handed love as you do, I was wont 
 To load my she with knacks. I would have ransack'd 
 The pedler's silken treasury and have pour'd it 
 To her acceptance j you have let him go 340 
 
 And nothing marted with him. If your lass 
 Interpretation should abuse and call this 
 Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited 
 For a reply, at least if you make a care 
 Of happy holding her. 
 
 Floi'izel. Old sir, I know 
 
 She prizes not such trifles as these are : 
 The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd 
 Up in my heart; which I have given already. 
 But not deliver'd. — O, hear me breathe my life 
 Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, 350 
 
 Hath sometime lov'd ! I take thy hand, this hand, 
 As soft as dove's down and as white as it, 
 Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that 's bolted 
 By the northern blasts twice o'er. 
 
 PoHxeites. ' What follows this ? — 
 
 How prettily the young swain seems to wash 
 The hand was fair before ! — I have put you out : 
 But to your protestation; let me hear 
 What you profess. 
 
 Florizel. Do, and be witness to 't. 
 
 Folixenes. And this my neighbour too ? 
 
 Florizel. And he, and more 
 
 Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all : 360 
 
 That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, 
 Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth 
 That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 109 
 
 More than was ever man's, I would not prize them 
 Without her love ; for her employ them all, 
 Commend them and condemn them to her service 
 Or to their own perdition. 
 
 Polixe?ies. Fairly offer'd. 
 
 Cai7iillo. This shows a sound affection. 
 
 Shepherd. But, my daughter, 
 
 Say you the like to him ? 
 
 Ferdita. I cannot speak 
 
 So well, nothing so well ; no, nor mean better : 370 
 
 By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out 
 The purity of his. 
 
 Shepherd. Take hands, a bargain ! — 
 
 And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't ; 
 I give my daughter to him, and will make 
 Her portion equal his. 
 
 Florizel. O, that must be 
 
 I' the virtue of your daughter : one being dead, 
 I shall have more than you can dream of yet; 
 Enough then for your wonder. But, come on. 
 Contract us fore these witnesses. 
 
 Shepherd. Come, your hand ; 
 
 And, daughter, yours. 
 
 FoUxenes. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you ; 380 
 
 Have you a father ? 
 
 Florizel. I have ; but what of him ? 
 
 Folixenes. Knows he of this .'* 
 
 Florizel. He neither does nor shall. 
 
 Folixejies. Methinks a father 
 Is at the nuptial of his son a guest 
 That best becomes the table. Pray you once more, 
 Is not your father grown incapable 
 Of reasonable affairs ? is he not stupid 
 With age and altering rheums ? can he speak ? hear .'* 
 Know man from man ? dispute his own estate ? 
 
no THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Lies he not bed-rid ? and again does nothing 390 
 
 But what he did being childish ? 
 
 Florizel. No, good sir ; 
 
 He has his health and ampler strength indeed 
 Than most have of his age. 
 
 Polixenes, By my white beard, 
 
 You offer him, if this be so, a wrong- 
 Something unfilial. Reason my son 
 Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason 
 The father, all whose joy is nothing else 
 But fair posterity, should hold some counsel 
 In such a business. 
 
 Florizel. I yield all this; 
 
 But for some other reasons, my grave sir, 400 
 
 Which 't is not fit you know, I not acquaint 
 My father of this business. 
 
 Polixefies. Let him know 't. 
 
 Florizel. He shall not. 
 
 Polixenes. Prithee, let him. 
 
 Florizel. No, he must not. 
 
 Shepherd. Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve 
 At knowing of thy choice. 
 
 Florizel. Come, come, he must not. — 
 
 Mark our contract. 
 
 Folixe?ies. Mark your divorce, young sir, 
 
 ^Discovering himself. 
 Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base 
 To be acknowledg'd, thou a sceptre's heir, 
 That thus affects a sheep-hook ! — Thou old traitor, 
 I am sorry that by hanging thee I can 4,10 
 
 But shorten thy life one week. — And thou, fresh piece 
 Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know 
 The royal fool thou cop'st with, — 
 
 Shepherd. O, my heart ! 
 
 Polixenes. I '11 have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. Ill 
 
 More homely than thy state. — For thee, fond boy, 
 
 If I may ever know thou dost but sigh 
 
 That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never 
 
 I mean thou shalt, we '11 bar thee from succession ; 
 
 Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin. 
 
 Far than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words : 420 
 
 Follow us to the court. — Thou churl, for this time. 
 
 Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee 
 
 From the dead blow of it. — And you, enchantment, — ■ 
 
 Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too, 
 
 That makes himself, but for our honour therein, 
 
 Unworthy thee, — if ever henceforth thou 
 
 These rural latches to his entrance open, 
 
 Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, 
 
 I will devise a death as cruel for thee 
 
 As thou art tender to 't. \_Exit. 
 
 Perdita. Even here undone ! 430 
 
 I was not much afeard; for once or twice 
 I was about to speak and tell him plainly. 
 The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 
 Hides not his visage from our cottage, but 
 Looks on alike. — Will 't please you, sir, be gone ? 
 I told you what would come of this. Beseech you. 
 Of your own state take care; this dream of mine, — ^ 
 Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther. 
 But milk my ewes and weep. 
 
 Camillo. Why, how now, father ? 
 
 Speak ere thou diest. 
 
 Shepherd. I cannot speak, nor think, 440 
 
 Nor dare to know that which I know. — O sir ! 
 You have undone a man of fourscore three, 
 That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea. 
 To die upon the bed my father died. 
 To lie close by his honest bones; but now 
 Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me 
 
112 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Where no priest shovels in dust. — O cursed wretch, 
 That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure 
 To mingle faith with him ! — Undone ! undone ! 
 If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd 4so 
 
 To die when I desire. \_Exit. 
 
 Florizel. Why look you so upon me ? 
 
 I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd. 
 But nothing alter'd. What I was, I am; 
 More straining on for plucking back, not following 
 My leash unwillingly. 
 
 Camillo. Gracious my lord, 
 
 You know your father's temper : at this time 
 He will allow no speech, which I do guess 
 You do not purpose to him ; and as hardly 
 Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear. 
 Then, till the fury of his highness settle, 460 
 
 Come not before him. 
 
 Florizel. I not purpose it. 
 
 I think,— Camillo ? 
 
 Camillo. Even he, my lord. 
 
 Perdiia. How often have I told you 't would be thus ! 
 How often said, my dignity would last 
 But till 't were known 1 
 
 Florizel. It cannot fail but by 
 
 The violation of my faith ; and then 
 Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together 
 And mar the seeds within ! Lift up thy looks : 
 From my succession wipe me, father; I 
 Am heir to my affection. 
 
 Camillo. Be advis'd. ' 470 
 
 Florizel. I am, and by my fancy: if my reason 
 Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; 
 If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness, 
 Do bid it welcome. 
 
 Camillo. This is desperate, sir. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 1 13 
 
 Florizel. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow: 
 I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, 
 Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may 
 Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or 
 The close earth wombs or the profound sea hides 
 In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath 480 
 
 To this my fair belov'd : therefore, I pray you, 
 As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend, 
 When he shall miss me, — as, in faith, I mean not 
 To see him any more, — cast your good counsels 
 Upon his passion; let myself and fortune 
 Tug for the time to come. This you may know 
 And so deliver, — I am put to sea 
 With her whom here I cannot hold on shore; 
 And most opportune to our need I have 
 A vessel rides fast by, but not prepar'd 49° 
 
 For this design. What course I mean to hold 
 Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor 
 Concern me the reporting, 
 
 Camillo. O my lord ! 
 
 I would your spirit were easier for advice, 
 Or stronger for your need. 
 
 Florizel. Hark, Perdita. — \Drawing her aside. 
 
 I '11 hear you by and by. 
 
 Camillo. He 's irremovable, 
 
 Resolv'd for flight. Now were I happy, if 
 His going I could frame to serve my turn. 
 Save him from danger, do him love and honour, 
 Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia 5°° 
 
 And that unhappy king, my master, whom 
 I so much thirst to see. 
 
 Florizel. Now, good Camillo; 
 
 I am so fraught with curious business that 
 I leave out ceremony. 
 
 Camillo. Sir, I think 
 
 H 
 
114 '^^^ WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 You have heard of my poor services, i' the love 
 That I have borne your father? 
 
 Florizel. Very nobly 
 
 Have you deserv'd ; it is my father's music 
 To speak your deeds, not little of his care 
 To have them recompens'd as thought on. 
 
 Camillo. Well, my lord. 
 
 If you may please to think I love the king 510 
 
 And through him what is nearest to him, which is 
 Your gracious self, embrace but my direction : 
 If your more ponderous and settled project 
 May suffer alteration, on mine honour, 
 I '11 point you where you shall have such receiving 
 As shall become your highness; where you may 
 Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see, 
 There 's no disjunction to be made, but by — 
 As heavens forefend ! — your ruin; marry her, 
 And, with my best endeavours in your absence, 520 
 
 Your discontenting father strive to qualify 
 And bring him up to liking. 
 
 Florizel. How, Camillo, 
 
 May this, almost a miracle, be done ? 
 That I may call thee something more than man, 
 And after that trust to thee. 
 
 Camillo. Have you thought on 
 
 A place whereto you '11 go ? 
 
 Florizel. Not any yet; 
 
 But as the unthought-on accident is guilty 
 To what we wildly do, so we profess 
 Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies 
 Of every wind that blows. 
 
 Camillo. Then list to me : 530 
 
 This follows, if you will not change your purpose 
 But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia, 
 And there present yourself and your fair princess, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 115 
 
 For so I see she must be, fore Leontes; 
 
 She shall be habited as it becomes 
 
 The partner of your bed. Methinks I see 
 
 Leontes opening his free arms and weeping 
 
 His welcomes forth ; asks thee the son forgiveness, 
 
 As 't were i' the father's person ; kisses the hands 
 
 Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him 540 
 
 'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness ; the one 
 
 He chides to hell, and bids the other grow 
 
 Faster than thought or time. 
 
 Florizel. Worthy Camillo, 
 
 What colour for my visitation shall I 
 Hold up before him ? 
 
 Camillo. Sent by the king your father 
 
 To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir, 
 The manner of your bearing towards him, with 
 What you as from your father shall deliver, 
 Things known betwixt us three, I '11 write you down : 
 The which shall point you forth at every sitting 550 
 
 What you must say; that'he shall not perceive 
 But that you have your father's bosom there 
 And speak his very heart. 
 
 Florizel. I am bound to you ; 
 
 There is some sap in this. 
 
 Camillo. A cause more promising 
 
 Than a wild dedication of yourselves 
 To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain 
 To miseries enough ; no hope to help you. 
 But as you shake ofif one to take another; 
 Nothing so certain as your anchors, who 
 Do their best office, if they can but stay you 560 
 
 Where you '11 be loath to be. Besides you know 
 Prosperity 's the very bond of love. 
 Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together 
 Affliction alters. 
 
Il6 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 Perdita. One of these is true 
 
 \ think affliction may subdue the cheek, 
 But not take in the mind. 
 
 Camillo. Yea, say you so ? 
 
 There shall not at your father's house these seven years 
 Be born another such. 
 
 Florizel. My good Camillo, 
 
 She is as forward of her breeding as 
 She is i' the rear o' our birth. 
 
 Camillo. I cannot say 't is pity 570 
 
 She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress 
 To most that teach. 
 
 Perdita. Your pardon, sir; for this 
 
 I '11 blush you thanks. 
 
 Florizel. My prettiest Perdita ! — 
 
 But O, the thorns we stand upon ! — Camillo, 
 Preserver of my father, now of me, 
 The medicine of our house, how shall we do? 
 We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son, 
 Nor shall appear in Sicilia. 
 
 Camillo. My lord. 
 
 Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes 
 Do all lie there; it shall be so my care 580 
 
 To have you royally appointed as if 
 The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, 
 That you may know you shall not want, — one word. 
 
 \They talk aside. 
 Re-enter Autolycus. 
 
 Autolycus. Ha, ha ! w^hat a fool Honesty is ! and Trust, his 
 sworn brother, a very simple gentleman ! I have sold all 
 my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, 
 pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe- 
 tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting. They 
 throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hal- 
 lowed and brought a benediction to the buyer : by which 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. ny 
 
 iTieans I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I 
 saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown, who wants 
 but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in love with 
 the wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes till he 
 had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the herd 
 to me that all their other senses stuck in ears. I could have 
 filed keys off that hung in chains; no hearing, no feeling, but 
 my sir's song, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in 
 this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival 
 purses; and had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub 
 against his daughter and' the king's son and scared my 
 choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the 
 whole army. [Cajniilo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward. 
 
 Camilla. Nay, but my letters, by this means being there 
 So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. 605 
 
 Florizel. And those that you '11 procure from KingLeontes— 
 Camillo. Shall satisfy your father. 
 Perdita. Happy be you ! 
 
 All that you speak shows fair. 
 
 Camillo. Who have we here ?— 
 
 ^Seeing Aiitolyciis. 
 We '11 make an instrument of this, omit 
 Nothing may give us aid. 
 
 Autolyciis. If they have overheard me now, why, hangitig. 
 Camillo. How now, good fellow ! why shakest thou so ? 
 Fear not, man ; here 's no harm intended to thee. 613 
 
 Autolyciis. I am a poor fellow, sir. 
 
 Camillo. Why, be so still ; here 's nobody will steal that 
 from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make 
 an exchange; therefore disease thee instantly,— thou must 
 think there 's a necessity in 't,— and change garments with 
 this gentleman. Though the pennyworth on his side be 
 the worst, yet hold thee, there 's some boot. 
 
 Autolyciis. I am a poor fellow, sir.— [^^/^^] I know ye 
 
 well enough. 
 
1 1 8- THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Camillo. Nay, prithee, dispatch ; the gentleman is half 
 flayed already. 
 
 Autolycus. Are you in earnest, s\xl—\ Aside] I smell the 
 trick on 't. 
 
 Florizel. Dispatch, I prithee. 
 
 Autolycus. Indeed, I have had earnest ; but I cannot with 
 conscience take it. 
 
 Camillo. Unbuckle, unbuckle. — 630 
 
 \Flonzel and Autolycus exchange garments. 
 Fortunate mistress, — let my prophecy 
 Come home to ye ! — you must retire yourself 
 Into some covert : take your sweetheart's hat 
 And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face, 
 Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken 
 The truth of your own seeming ; that you may — 
 For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard 
 Get undescried. 
 
 Perdita. I see the play so lies 
 
 That I must bear a part. 
 
 Camillo. No remedy. — 
 
 Have you done there ? 
 
 Florizel. Should I now meet my father, 640 
 
 He would not call me son. 
 
 Camillo. Nay, you shall have no hat. — 
 
 [^Giving it to Perdita. 
 Come, lady, come. — Farewell, my friend. 
 
 Autolycus. Adieu, sir. 
 
 Florizel. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot ! 
 Pray you, a word. 
 
 Camillo. {Aside] What I do next, shall be to tell the king 
 Of this escape and whither they are bound : 
 Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail 
 To force him after ; in whose company 
 I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight 
 I have a woman's longing. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 119 
 
 Florizel. Fortune speed us ! — 650 
 
 Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side. 
 
 Camillo. The swifter speed the better. 
 
 \Exeunt Florizel, Fe?'dita, and Ciwiillo. 
 
 Autolycus. I understand the business, I hear it. To have 
 an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary 
 for a cut-purse ; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out 
 work for the other senses. I see this is the time that the 
 unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been 
 without boot ! What a boot is here with this exchange ! 
 Sure the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do 
 any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece 
 of iniquity, stealing away from his father with his clog at his 
 heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint 
 the king withal, I would not do 't : I hold it the more 
 knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my 
 profession. — 665 
 
 Re-enter Clown and Shepherd. 
 Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain. Every 
 lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a 
 careful man work. 
 
 Clown. See, see ; what a man you are now ! There is no 
 other way but to tell the king she 's a changeling and none 
 of your flesh and blood. 671 
 
 Shepherd. Nay, but hear me. 
 
 Clown. Nay, but hear me. 
 
 Shepherd. Go to, then. 
 
 Clown. She being none of your flesh and blood, your 
 flesh and blood has not offended the king; and so your 
 flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those 
 things you found about her, those secret things, all but what 
 she has with her. This being done, let the law go whistle ; 
 I warrant you. 680 
 
 Shepherd. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his 
 son's pranks too ; who, I may say, is no honest man, neither 
 
I20 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 to his father nor to me, to go about to make me the king's 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 Clown. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you 
 could have been to him, and then your blood had been the 
 dearer by I know how much an ounce. 
 
 Autolyciis. \Aside\ Very wisely, puppies ! 
 
 Shepherd. Well, let us to the king; there is that in this 
 fardel will make him scratch his beard. 690 
 
 Autolycus. [Aside] I know not what impediment this com- 
 plaint may be to the flight of my master. 
 
 Clown. Pray heartily he be at palace. 
 
 Autolycus. {Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I 
 am so sometimes by chance ; let me pocket up my pedler's 
 excrement. — \Takes off his false beard.] How now, rustics ! 
 whither are you bound ? 
 
 Shepherd. To the palace, an it like your worship. 
 
 Autolycus. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condi- 
 tion of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, 
 your ages, of what having, breeding, and any thing that is 
 fitting to be known, discover. 702 
 
 Clown. We are but plain fellows, sir. 
 
 Autolycus. A lie ! you are rough and hairy. Let me 
 have no lying ; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they 
 often give us soldiers the lie : but we pay them for it with 
 stamped coin, not stabbing steel ; therefore they do not 
 give us the lie. 
 
 Clown. Your worship had like to have given us one, if 
 you had not taken yourself with the manner. 710 
 
 Shepherd. Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir? 
 
 Autolycus. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. 
 Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? 
 hath not my gait in it the measure of the court ? receives 
 not thy nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy 
 baseness court-contempt ? Thinkest thou, for that I insin- 
 uate, or touze from thee thy business, I am therefore no 
 
ACT IK SCENE IV. 121 
 
 courtier ? I am courtier cap-a-pe ; and one that will either 
 push on or pluck back thy business there : whereupon I 
 command thee to open thy affair. 720 
 
 Shepherd. My business, sir, is to the king. 
 
 Aiitolyciis. What advocate hast thou to him ? 
 
 Shepherd. I know not, an 't like you. 
 
 Clown. Advocate 's the court-word for a pheasant ; say 
 you have none. 
 
 Shepherd. None, sir ; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. 
 
 Autolyciis. How blest are we that are not simple men ! 
 Yet nature might have made me as these are, 
 Therefore I will not disdain. 
 
 Clown. This cannot be but a great courtier. 73° 
 
 Shepherd. His garments are rich, but he wears them not 
 handsomely. 
 
 Cloivn. He seems to be the more noble in being fantasti- 
 cal : a great man, I '11 warrant; I know by the picking on 's 
 teeth. 
 
 Aiitolycus. The fardel there? what 's i' the fardel.? Where- 
 fore that box ? 
 
 Shepherd. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and 
 box, which none must know but the king; and which he 
 shall know within this hour, if I may come to the speech of 
 him. 741 
 
 Autolyciis. Age, thou hast lost thy labour. 
 
 Shepherd. Why, sir.? 
 
 Autolyciis. The king is not at the palace ; he is gone 
 aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: 
 for, if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must know 
 the king is full of grief 
 
 Shepherd. So 't is said, sir ; about his son, that should 
 have married a shepherd's daughter. 
 
 Aiitolycus. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him 
 fly ; the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will 
 break the back of man, the heart of monster. 752 
 
122 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Clown. Think you so, sir ? 
 
 Autolyciis. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make 
 heavy and vengeance bitter, but those that are germane to 
 him, though removed fifty times, shall all come under the 
 hangman; which though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. 
 An old sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have 
 his daughter come into grace ! Some say he shall be stoned; 
 but that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne 
 into a sheep-cote ! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too 
 easy. 762 
 
 Clown. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an 't 
 like you. sir t 
 
 Autolycus. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive ; then 
 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest ; 
 then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead ; then 
 recovered again with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; 
 then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication 
 proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the sun look- 
 ing with a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold 
 him with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these 
 traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at, their 
 offences being so capital ? Tell me, for you seem to be 
 honest plain men, what you have to the king : being some- 
 thing gently considered, I '11 bring you where he is aboard, 
 tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your 
 behalfs; and if it be in man besides the king to effect your 
 suits, here is man shall do it. 779 
 
 Cloimi. He seems to be of great authority : close with 
 him, give him gold ; and though authority be a stubborn 
 bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold. Show the in- 
 side of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more 
 ado. Remember, stoned and flayed alive ! 
 
 Shephe7'd. An 't please you, sir, to undertake the business 
 for us, here is that gold I have ; I '11 make it as much more, 
 and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 123 
 
 Aiitolycus. After I have done what I promised ? 
 
 Shepherd. Ay, sir. 
 
 Autolycus. Well, give me the moiety. — Are you a party in 
 this business ? 791 
 
 Clown. In some sort, sir ; but though my case be a pitiful 
 one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it. 
 
 Autolycus. O, that 's the case of the shepherd's son ; hang 
 him, he '11 be made an example. 
 
 Clown. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king 
 and show our strange sights : he must know 't is none of 
 your daughter nor my sister ; we are gone else. — Sir, I will 
 give you as much as this old man does when the business 
 is performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be 
 brought you. 801 
 
 . Autolycus. I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea- 
 side ; go on the right hand : I will but look upon the hedge 
 and follow you. 
 
 Clown. We are blest in this man, as I may say, even 
 blest. 
 
 Shepherd. Let 's before, as he bids us ; he was provided to 
 do us good. \Exeu7it Shepherd and Clown. 
 
 Autolycus. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune 
 would not suffer me ; she drops booties in my mouth. I 
 am courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means 
 to do the prince my master good ; which who knows how 
 that may turn back to my advancement ? I will bring 
 these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him : if he think 
 it lit to shore them again, and that the complaint they have 
 to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for 
 being so far officious; for I am proof against that title and 
 what shame else belongs to 't. To him will I present them ; 
 there may be matter in it. \Exit. 
 
O, she 's warm! (v. 3. 109). 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. A Room in the Palace of Leontes. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and Servants. 
 
 Cleomenes. Sir, you have done, enough, and have per- 
 form 'd 
 A saint-like sorrow. No fault could you make, 
 Which you have not redeem'd j indeed, paid down 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 125 
 
 More penitence than done trespass. At the last, 
 Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil ; 
 With them forgive yourself. 
 
 Leonies. Whilst I remember 
 
 Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
 My blemishes in them, and so still think of 
 The wrong I did myself; which was so much 
 That heirless it hath made my kingdom, and 10 
 
 Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man 
 Bred his hopes out of. 
 
 Paulina. True, too true, my lord ; 
 
 If, one by one, you wedded all the world, 
 Or from the all that are took something good, 
 To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd 
 Would be unparallel'd. 
 
 Leontes. I think so. Kill'd ! 
 
 She I kill'd ! I did so : but thou strikest me 
 Sorely, to say I did ; it is as bitter 
 Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now, 
 Say so but seldom. 
 
 Cleome7tes. Not at all, good lady ; 20 
 
 You might have spoken a thousand things that would 
 Have done the time more benefit and grac'd 
 Your kindness better. 
 
 Paulina. You are one of those 
 
 Would have him wed again. 
 
 DioJi. If you would not so, 
 
 You pity not the state, nor the remembrance 
 Of his most sovereign name ; consider little 
 What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue, 
 May drop upon his kingdom and devour 
 Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy 
 Than to rejoice the former queen is well ? 3° 
 
 What holier than, for royalty's repair. 
 For present comfort and for future good. 
 
126 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 To bless the bed of majesty again 
 With a sweet fellow to 't ? 
 
 Faulina. There is none worthy, 
 
 Respecting her that 's gone. Besides, the gods 
 Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes ; 
 For has not the divine Apollo said, 
 Is 't not the tenour of his oracle. 
 That King Leontes shall not have an heir 
 Till his lost child be found ? which that it shall, 40 
 
 Is all as monstrous to our human reason 
 As my Antigonus to break his grave 
 And come again to me ; who, on my life. 
 Did perish with the infant. 'T is your counsel 
 My lord should to the heavens be contrary, 
 Oppose against their wills. — ^To Leontes^ Care not for 
 
 issue; 
 The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander 
 Left his to the worthiest ; so his successor 
 Was like to be the best. 
 
 Leo7ttes. Good Paulina, — 
 
 Who hast the memory of Hermione, 50 
 
 I know, in honour, — O that ever I 
 Had squar'd me to thy counsel ! then, even now, 
 I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, 
 Have taken treasure from her lips— 
 
 Faulina. And left them 
 
 More rich for what they yielded. 
 
 Leontes. Thou speak'st truth. 
 
 No more such wives ; therefore, no wife : one worse. 
 And better us'd, 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 ?' 
 
 Paulina. Had she such power, 60 
 
 She had just cause. 
 
ACT F. SCENE I. 127 
 
 Leonfes. She had; and would incense me 
 
 To murther her I married. 
 
 FauUna. I should so. 
 
 Were I the ghost that walk'd, I 'd bid you mark 
 Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't 
 You chose her; then I'd shriek, that even your ears 
 Should rift to hear me ; and the words that follow'd 
 Should be 'Remember mine.' 
 
 Leontes. Stars, stars, 
 
 And all eyes else dead coals ! — Fear thou no wife ; 
 I '11 have no wife, Paulina. 
 
 Paulina. Will you swear 
 
 Never to marry but by my free leave ? 70 
 
 Leontes. Never, Paulina ! so be blest my spirit ! 
 
 Pauli7ia. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath. 
 
 Cleomenes. You tempt him over-much. 
 
 Paulina. Unless another, 
 
 As like Hermione as is her picture. 
 Affront his eye. 
 
 Cleomenes. Good madam, — 
 
 Paulina. I have done. 
 
 Yet, if my lord will marry, — if you will, sir, 
 No remedy, but you will, — give me the office 
 To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young 
 As was your former ; but she shall be such 
 As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy so 
 
 To see her in your arms. 
 
 Leontes. My true Paulina, 
 
 We shall not marry till thou bid'st us. 
 
 Pauli7ia. That 
 
 Shall be when your first queen 's again in breath; 
 Never till then. 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 Gentleman. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel, 
 
128 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Son of Polixenes, with his princess, — she 
 The fairest I have yet beheld, — desires access 
 To your high presence. 
 
 Leontes. What with him ? he comes not 
 
 Like to his father's greatness ; his approach, 
 So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us 
 'T is not a visitation fram'd, but forc'd 
 By need and accident. What train ? 
 
 Ge7itleman. But few, 
 
 And those but mean. 
 
 Leontes. His princess, say you, with him "i 
 
 Gentleman. Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think, 
 That e'er the sun shone bright on. 
 
 Paulina. O Hermione, 
 
 As every present time doth boast itself 
 Above a better gone, so must thy grave 
 Give way to what 's seen now ! — Sir, you yourself 
 Have said and writ so, but your writing now 
 Is colder than that theme, ' She had not been, i, 
 
 Nor was not to be equall'd ;' — thus your verse 
 Flow'd with her beauty once : 't is shrewdly ebb'd, 
 To say you have seen a better. 
 
 Gentleman. Pardon, madam : 
 
 The one I have almost forgot, — your pardon, — 
 The other, when she has obtain'd your eye. 
 Will have your tongue too. This is a creature. 
 Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal 
 Of all professors else, make proselytes 
 Of who she but bid follow. 
 
 Paulina. How ! not women ? 
 
 Gentleman. Women will love her, that she is a woman 
 More worth than any man; men, that she is i 
 
 The rarest of all women. 
 
 Leontes. Go, Cleomenes ; 
 
 Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends. 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 129 
 
 Bring them to our embracement. — Still, 't is strange 
 
 [Exeunt Ckomenes and others. 
 He thus should steal upon us. 
 
 Paulina. Had our prince, 
 
 Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd 
 Well with this lord ; there was not full a month 
 Between their births. 
 
 Leontes. Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st 
 
 He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure. 
 When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches 120 
 
 Will bring me to consider that which may 
 Unfurnish me of reason. — They are come. — 
 
 Re-enter Cleomenes and others, with Florizel and Perdita. 
 
 Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince; 
 
 For she did print your royal father off, 
 
 Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one, 
 
 Your father's image is so hit in you. 
 
 His very air, that I should call you brother, 
 
 As I did him, and speak of something wildly 
 
 By us perform 'd before. Most dearly welcome ! 
 
 And your fair princess, — goddess ! — O, alas ! 130 
 
 I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth 
 
 Might thus have stood begetting wonder as 
 
 You, gracious couple, do; and then I lost — 
 
 All mine own folly — the society, 
 
 Amity too, of your brave father, whom, 
 
 Though bearing misery, I desire my life 
 
 Once more to look on him. 
 
 Florizel. By his command 
 
 Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him 
 Give you all greetings that a king, at friend, 
 Can send his brother : and, but infirmity 140 
 
 Which waits upon worn times hath something seiz'd 
 His wish'd ability, he had himself 
 
 I 
 
130 THE WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his 
 Measur'd to look upon you; whom he loves — 
 He bade me say so — more than all the sceptres 
 And those that bear them living. 
 
 Leontes. O my brother, 
 
 Good gentleman ! the wrongs I have done thee stir 
 Afresh within me, and these thy offices, 
 So rarely kind, are as interpreters 
 
 Of my behind-hand slackness. — Welcome hither, 150 
 
 As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too 
 Expos'd this paragon to the fearful usage, 
 At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune, 
 To greet a man not worth her pains, much less , 
 
 The adventure of her person ? 
 
 Florizel. Good my lord, 
 
 She came from Libya. 
 
 Leontes. Where the warlike Smalus, 
 
 That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and lov'd ? 
 
 Florizel. Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose 
 daughter 
 His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her : thence, 
 A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd, 160 
 
 To execute the charge my father gave me 
 For visiting your highness. My best train 
 I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd ; 
 Who for Bohemia bend, to signify 
 Not only my success in Libya, sir, 
 But my arrival and my wife's in safety 
 Here where we are. 
 
 Leontes. The blessed gods 
 
 Purge all infection from our air whilst you 
 Do climate here ! You have a holy father, 
 A graceful gentleman ; against whose person, 17° 
 
 So sacred as it is, I have done sin : 
 For which the heavens, taking angry note. 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 131 
 
 Have left me issueless; and your father 's blest, 
 As he from heaven merits it, with you 
 Worthy his goodness. What might I have been, 
 Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on. 
 Such goodly things as you ! 
 
 Enter a Lord. 
 
 Lord. Most noble sir. 
 
 That which I shall report will bear no credit. 
 Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir, 
 Bohemia greets you from himself by me; »8o 
 
 Desires you to attach his son, who has — 
 His dignity and duty both cast off — 
 Fled from his father, from his hopes, and w^ith 
 A shepherd's daughter. 
 
 Leontes. Where 's Bohemia.? speak. 
 
 Lord. Here in your city; I now came from him. 
 I speak amazedly; and it becomes 
 My marvel and my message. To your court 
 Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems, 
 Of this fair couple, meets he on the way 
 The father of this seeming lady and 190 
 
 Her brother, having both their country quitted 
 With this young prince. 
 
 Florizel. Camillo has betray'd me; 
 
 Whose honour and whose honesty till now 
 Endur'd all weathers. 
 
 Lord. Lay 't so to his charge ; 
 
 He 's with the king your father. 
 
 L^eontes. Who? Camillo.? 
 
 Lord. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now 
 Has these poor men in question. Never saw I 
 Wretches so quake; they kneel, they kiss the earth. 
 Forswear themselves as often as they speak : 
 Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them 
 With divers deaths in death. 200 
 
132 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Perdita. O my poor father ! — 
 
 The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have 
 Our contract celebrated. 
 
 Leontes. You are married ? 
 
 Florizel. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be; 
 The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first : 
 The odds for high and low 's alike. 
 
 Leontes. ■ My lord, 
 
 Is this the daughter of a king ? 
 
 Florizel. She is, 
 
 When once she is my wife. 
 
 Leontes. That once, I see by your good father's speed, 
 Will come on very slowly. I am sorry, 210 
 
 Most sorry, you have broken from his liking 
 Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry 
 Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty, 
 That you might well enjoy her. 
 
 Florizel. Dear, lookup; 
 
 Though Fortune, visible an enemy, 
 Should chase us with my father, power no jot 
 Hath she to change our loves. — Beseech you, sir. 
 Remember since you owed no more to time 
 Than I do now: with thought of such affections. 
 Step forth mine advocate ; at your request 220 
 
 My father will grant precious things as trifles. 
 
 Leontes. Would he do so, I 'd beg your precious mistress, 
 Which he counts but a trifle. 
 
 Paulina. Sir, my liege. 
 
 Your eye hath too much youth in 't; not a month 
 Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes 
 Than what you look on now. 
 
 Leontes. I thought of her, 
 
 Even in these looks I made. — \To Florizel'] But your peti- 
 tion 
 Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your fiither. 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. i^^ 
 
 Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires, 
 
 I am friend to them and you : upon which errand 230 
 
 I now go toward him ; therefore follow me 
 
 And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord. 
 
 \_Exeimt. 
 Scene II. Before the Palace of Leontes. 
 Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman. 
 
 Aiitolycus. Beseech you, sir, were you present at this rela- 
 tion ? 
 
 I Gentleman. I was by at the opening of the fardel, 
 heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found 
 it: whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all com- 
 manded out of the chamber ; only this methought I heard 
 the shepherd say, he found the child. 
 
 Autolycus. I would most gladly know the issue of it. 8 
 
 1 GeJitleman.. I make a broken delivery of the business ; 
 but the changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were 
 very notes of admiration. They seemed almost, with star- 
 ing on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes ; there 
 was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gest- 
 ure ; they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, 
 or one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder appeared 
 in them ; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but 
 seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow ; 
 but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be. — 
 
 Enter another Gentleman. 
 Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more. — The 
 news, Rogero ? 20 
 
 2 Gentleman. Nothing but bonfires. The oracle is ful- 
 filled ; the king's daughter is found. Such a deal of won- 
 der is broken out within this hour that ballad-makers can- 
 not be able to express it. 
 
134 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Enter a third Gentleman. 
 
 Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver 
 you more. — How goes it now, sir ? this news which is called 
 true is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong 
 suspicion. Has the king found his heir ? 28 
 
 3 Gentleman. Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by 
 circumstance ; that which you hear you '11 swear you see, 
 there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen 
 Hermione's, her jewel about the neck of it, the letters of 
 Antigonus found with it which they know to be his charac- 
 ter, the majesty of the creature in resemblance of the moth- 
 er, the affection of nobleness which nature shows above her 
 breeding, and many other evidences proclaim her with all 
 certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meet- 
 ing of the two kings ? 
 
 2 Gentleman. No. 39 
 
 3 Gentleman. Then have you lost a sight, which was to 
 be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have be- 
 held one joy crown another, so and in such manner that it 
 seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their joy 
 waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up 
 of hands, with countenances of such distraction that they 
 were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, 
 being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found 
 daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries ' O, 
 thy mother, thy mother !' then asks Bohemia forgiveness ; 
 then embraces his son-in-law ; then again worries he his 
 daughter with clipping her ; now he thanks the old shep- 
 herd, which stands by like a weather -bitten conduit of 
 many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another en- 
 counter, which lames report to follow it and undoes de- 
 scription to do it. 55 
 
 2 Gentkfnan. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that 
 carried hence the child ? 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. 135 
 
 3 Gentk?7ian. Like an old tale still, which will have 
 matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear 
 open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches 
 the shepherd's son ; who has not only his innocence, which 
 seems much, to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings 
 of his that Paulina knows. 
 
 I Gejitleman. What became of his bark and his fol- 
 lowers ? 65 
 
 3 Gentleman. Wracked the same instant of their master's 
 death, and in the view of the shepherd; so that all the in- 
 struments which aided to expose the child were even then 
 lost when it was found. { But O, the noble combat that 
 'twixt joy and sorrow was fought in Paulina! ; She had one 
 eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated 
 that the oracle was fulfilled; she lifted the princess from 
 the earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she would 
 pin her to her heart that she might no more be in danger 
 of losing. 
 
 I Gentleman. The dignity of this act was worth the au- 
 dience of kings and princes ; for by such was it acted. ^^ 
 
 3 Gentletnan. One of the prettiest touches of all and that 
 which angled for mine eyes, caught the water though not 
 the fish, was when, at the relation of the queen's death, with 
 the manner how^ she came to 't bravely confessed and la- 
 mented by the king, how attentiveness wounded his daugh- 
 ter ; till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with 
 an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my 
 heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed 
 colour ; some sw^ooned, all sorrowed : if all the world could 
 have seen 't, the woe had been universal. 
 
 1 Gentleman. Are they returned to the court } 88 
 
 3 Gentleman. No : the princess hearing of her mother's 
 statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, — a piece many 
 years in doing and now newly performed by that rare Ital- 
 ian master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and 
 
136 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her 
 custom, so perfectly he is her ape; — he so near to Her- 
 mione hath done Hermione that they say one would speak 
 to her and stand in hope of answer : — thither with all greed- 
 iness of affection are they gone, and there they intend to 
 
 sup. 98 
 
 2 Gentleman. I thought she had some great matter there 
 in hand ; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever 
 since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. 
 Shall we thither and with our company piece the rejoic- 
 ing? 
 
 I Gentleman. ,Who would be thence that has the benefit 
 of access? every wink of an eye some new grace will be 
 born; our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. 
 Let 's along. \^Exeunt Gentlemen. 
 
 Aictolycus. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in 
 me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the 
 old man and his son aboard the prince ; told him I heard 
 them talk of a fardel and I know not what : but he at that 
 time, overfond of the shepherd's daughter, so he then took 
 her to be, who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little 
 better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery re- 
 mained undiscovered. But 't is all one to me ; for had I 
 been the finder-out of this secret, it would not have relished 
 among my other discredits. — 117 
 
 Enter Shepherd and Clown. 
 
 Here come those I have done good to against my will, and 
 already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune. 
 
 Shepherd. Come, boy ; I am past moe children, but thy 
 sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. 
 
 Clown. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with 
 me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See 
 you these clothes? say you see them not and think nie still 
 no gentleman born ; you were best say these robes are not 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. 137 
 
 gentlemen born : give me the lie, do, and try whether I am 
 not now a gentleman born. 
 
 Aiitolycus. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. 
 
 Clown. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours. 
 
 Shepherd. And so have I, boy. 130 
 
 Clown. So you have : but I was a gentleman born before 
 my father : for the king's son took me by the hand, and 
 called me brother ; and then the two kings called my fa- 
 ther brother; and then the prince my brother and the prin- 
 cess my sister called my father father ; and so we wept, 
 and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we 
 shed. 
 
 Shepherd. We may live, son, to shed many more. 
 
 Clown. Ay ; or else 't were hard luck, being in so pre- 
 posterous estate as we are. 140 
 
 Autolyciis. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all 
 the faults I have committed to your worship and to give me 
 your good report to the prince my master. 
 
 Shepherd. Prithee, son, do ; for we must be gentle, now 
 we are gentlemen. 
 
 Clown. Thou wilt amend thy life ? 
 
 Autolycus. Ay, an it like your good worship. 
 
 Clown. Give me thy hand ; I will swear to the prince 
 thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. 
 
 Shepherd. You may say it, but not swear it. 150 
 
 Clown. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman ? Let boors 
 and franklins say it, I '11 swear it. 
 
 Shepherd. How if it be false, son ? 
 
 Clown. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may 
 swear it in the behalf of his friend : and I '11 swear to the 
 prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou 
 wilt not be drunk ; but I know thou art no tall fellow of 
 thy hands and that thou wilt be drunk : but I 'II swear it, 
 and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands. 
 
 Autolyais. I will prove so, sir, to my power. t6o 
 
138 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Clown. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow ; if I do 
 not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not be- 
 ing a tall fellow, trust me not. — Hark! the kings and the 
 princes, our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. 
 Come, follow us ; we '11 be thy good masters. [^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. A Chapel in Paulina's House. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita, Camillo, 
 Paulina, Lords, and Attendants. 
 
 Leontes. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort 
 That I have had of thee ! 
 
 Paulina. What, sovereign sir, 
 
 I did not well I meant well. All my services 
 You have paid home ; but that you have vouchsaf 'd. 
 With your crown'd brother and these your contracted 
 Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit. 
 It is a surplus of your grace, which never 
 My life may last to answer. 
 
 Leontes. O Paulina, 
 
 We honour you with trouble : but we came 
 To see the statue of our queen ; your gallery 10 
 
 Have we pass'd through, not without much content 
 In many singularities, but we saw not 
 That which my daughter came to look upon, 
 The statue of her mother. 
 
 Paulina. As she liv'd peerless, 
 
 So her dead likeness, I do well believe. 
 Excels whatever yet you look'd upon 
 Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it 
 Lonely, apart. But here it is ; prepare 
 To see the life as lively mock'd as ever 
 Still sleep mock'd death. Behold, and say 't is well. 20 
 
 \Paulvia draws a curtain, and discovers Llermione 
 standing like a statue. 
 
ACT V. SCENE III. 139 
 
 I like your silence, it the more shows off 
 
 Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege. 
 
 Comes it not something near? 
 
 Leontes. Her natural posture ! — 
 
 Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed 
 Thou art Hermione ; or rather, thou art she 
 In thy not chiding, for she was as tender 
 As infancy and grace. — But yet, Paulina, 
 Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing 
 So aged as this seems. 
 
 Folixenes. O, not by much. 
 
 Paulina. So much the more our carver's excellence ; 30 
 Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her 
 As she liv'd now. 
 
 Leontes. As now she might have done, 
 
 So much to my good comfort, as it is 
 Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, 
 Even with such life of majesty, warm life, 
 As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her ! 
 I am asham'd ; does not the stone rebuke me 
 For being more stone than iti^ — O royal piece ! 
 There 's magic in thy majesty, which has 
 My evils conjur'd to remembrance, and 40 
 
 From thy admiring daughter took the spirits. 
 Standing like stone with thee. 
 
 Perdita. And give me leave, 
 
 And do not say 't is superstition, that 
 I kneel and then implore her blessing. — Lady, 
 Dear queen, that ended when I but began, 
 Give me that hand of yours to kiss. 
 
 Paulina. O, patience ! 
 
 The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour 's 
 Not dry. 
 
 Cainillo. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on, 
 Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, 50 
 
I40 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 So many summers dry : scarce any joy 
 Did ever so long live; no sorrow- 
 But kill'd itself much sooner. 
 
 Polixenes:. Dear my brother, 
 
 Let him that was the cause of this have power 
 To take off so much grief from you as he 
 Will piece up in himself. 
 
 Paulina. Indeed, my lord. 
 
 If I had thought the sight of my poor image 
 Would thus have wrought you, — for the stone is mine — 
 I 'd not have show'd it. 
 
 Leojites. Do not draw the curtain. 
 
 Faidina. No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your fancy 
 May think anon it moves. 
 
 Leontes. Let be, let be. 
 
 Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already — • 
 What was he that did make it? — See, my lord, 
 Would you not deem it breath'd 1 and that those veins 
 Did verily bear blood 1 
 
 Polixenes. Masterly done; 
 
 The very life seems warm upon her lip. 
 
 Leontes. The fixure of her eye has motion in 't, 
 As we are mock'd with art. 
 
 Paulina. I '11 draw the curtain; 
 
 My lord 's almost so far transported that 
 He '11 think anon it lives. 
 
 Leontes. O sweet Paulina, 7° 
 
 Make me to think so twenty years together ! 
 No settled senses of the world can match 
 The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone. 
 
 Paulifia. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you ; but 
 I could afflict you farther. 
 
 Leontes. Do, Paulina; 
 
 For this affliction has a taste as sweet 
 As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks, 
 
ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 141 
 
 There is an air comes from her; what fine chisel 
 Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, 
 For I will kiss her. 
 
 Paulina. Good my lord, forbear ! 80 
 
 The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; 
 You '11 mar it if you kiss it, stain your own 
 With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain ? 
 
 Leontes. No, not these twenty years. 
 
 Fei'dita. So long could I 
 
 Stand by, a looker-on. 
 
 Paulina. Either forbear. 
 
 Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you 
 For more amazement. If you can behold it, 
 I '11 make the statue move indeed, descend 
 And take you by the hand; but then you '11 think — 
 Which I protest against — I am assisted 90 
 
 By wicked powers. 
 
 Leontes. What you can make her do, 
 
 I am content to look on ; what to speak, 
 I am content to hear; for 't is as easy 
 To make her speak as move. 
 
 Paulina. It is requir'd 
 
 You do awake your faith. Then all stand still; 
 Or those that think it is unlawful business 
 I am about, let them depart. 
 
 LeoJites. Proceed ; 
 
 No foot shall stir. 
 
 Paulina. Music, awake her; strike ! — \Music. 
 
 'T is time; descend; be stone no more; approach: 
 Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 100 
 
 I '11 fill your grave up; stir, nay, come away, 
 Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him 
 Dear life redeems you, — You perceive she stirs. 
 
 \Hermione comes down. 
 
142 THE WINTER'S TALE. 
 
 Start not; her actions shall be holy as 
 
 You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her 
 
 Until you see her die again ; for then 
 
 You kill her double. Nay, present your hand : 
 
 When she was young you woo'd her; now in age 
 
 Is she become the suitor? 
 
 Leontes. O, she 's warm ! 
 
 If this be magic, let it be an art no 
 
 Lawful as eating. 
 
 Polixenes. She embraces him. 
 
 Camillo. She hangs about his neck; 
 If she pertain to life, let her speak too. 
 
 Polixenes. Ay, and make 't manifest where she has liv'd, 
 Or how stolen from the dead. 
 
 Paulina. That she is living. 
 
 Were it but told you, should be hooted at 
 Like an old tale; but it appears she lives. 
 Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. — 
 Please you to interpose, fair madam; kneel 
 And pray your mother's blessing. — Turn, good lady; 120 
 
 Our Perdita is found. 
 
 Hermione. You gods, look down 
 
 And from your sacred vials pour your graces 
 Upon my daughter's head ! — Tell me, mine own. 
 Where hast thou been preserv'd ? where liv'd ? how found 
 Thy father's court.? for thou shalt hear that I, 
 Knowing by Paulina that the oracle 
 Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserv'd 
 Myself to see the issue. 
 
 Paulina. There 's time enough for that; 
 
 Lest they desire upon this push to trouble 
 Your joys with like relation. — Go together, 130 
 
 You precious winners all; your exultation 
 Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, 
 Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there 
 
ACT V. SCENE III. 
 
 143 
 
 My mate, that 's never to be found again, 
 Lament till I am lost. 
 
 Leontes. O, peace, Paulina ! 
 
 Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent, 
 As I by thine a wife ; this is a match, 
 And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found mine; 
 But how, is to be question'd ; for I saw her, 
 As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many 140 
 
 A prayer upon her grave. I '11 not seek far — 
 For him, I partly know his mind — to find thee 
 An honourable husband. — Come, Camillo, 
 And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty 
 Is richly noted and here justified 
 By us, a pair of kings. — Let 's from this place. — 
 What! look upon my brother. — Both your pardons, 
 That e'er I put between your holy looks 
 My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law 
 And son unto the king, whom heavens directing, 150 
 
 Is troth-plight to your daughter. — Good Paulina, 
 Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely 
 Each oiie demand and answer to his part 
 Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first 
 We were dissever'd. Hastily lead away. \_Exeimt. 
 
VALLEY IN BOHEMIA. 
 
NOTES. 
 
ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 
 
 Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespeariajt Gra7ninar (third edition). 
 A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 A. v., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 
 
 B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 B. J., Ben Jonson. 
 
 Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" oi Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. 
 
 Cf. {confer)., compare. 
 
 Clarke, "Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden 
 Clarke (London, n. d.). 
 
 Coll., Collier (second edition). 
 
 Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 
 
 D., Dyce (second edition). 
 
 H., Hudson (first edition). 
 
 Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). 
 
 Id. {idem), the same. 
 
 K., Knight (second edition). 
 
 Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). 
 
 Prol., Prologue. 
 
 S., Shakespeare. 
 
 Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 
 
 Sr., Singer. 
 
 St., Staunton. 
 
 Theo., Theobald. 
 
 W., White. 
 
 Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
 (London, i860). 
 
 Warb., Warburton. 
 
 Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1864). 
 
 Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 
 
 The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood; as 
 T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolamis, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King 
 Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
 and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover'' s Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 
 
 When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
 Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. 
 
 The numbers of the lines (except for The Winter's Tale) are those of the " Globe " 
 ed. or of Crowell's reprint of that ed. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 DELPHI AND MOUNT I'ARNASSUS. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Dramatis Person/e.— The folio has the following list at the end of 
 the play (cf. 0th. p. 154) : 
 
 The Names of the Actors. 
 Leo?ttes, King- of Sicillia. Emilia, a Lady. 
 
 Mamilhes, yong Pri7ice of Sicillia. Polixenes, King of Bohemia. 
 
 Catnillo. "> Florizell, Pritice of Bohemia. 
 
 A7itigomis. 1^ Foure OldShepheard,rep7ited Father of Perdita. 
 
 Cleomines. j Lords of Sicillia. Clowne, his Sonne. 
 
 Dion. J ^ utolicus, a Rogue. 
 
 Herfnione, Queene to Leontes. ' A rchidamtis, a Lord of Bohe7nia. 
 
 Perdi/a, Daughter to Leontes and Her- Other Lords, and Gentlemen, ajid Ser- 
 
 mione. na^tts. 
 
 Fazdina, wife to A ntigonns. • Shepheards, and Shephearddesses. 
 
148 NOTES. 
 
 Scene I. — 6. Bohemia. The King of Bohemia. See Macb. p. 239, or 
 He7i. V. p. 159. 
 
 Hanmer changed Bohemia throughout to " Bithynia ;" but, as stated 
 above (see p. 17), S. followed Greene in making Bohemia a maritime 
 country. Farmer remarks: "Corporal Trim's King of Bohemia ' de- 
 lighted in navigation, and had never a seaport in his dominions ;' and 
 my Lord Herbert informs us that De Luines, the prime minister of 
 France, vi^hen he was ambassador there, demanded whether Bohemia 
 was an inland country, or ' lay upon the sea.' There is a similar mistake 
 in T. G. ofV. relative to that city [Verona] and Milan." 
 
 Visitation. Cf. iv. 4. 544 and v. i. 90 below. S. does not use msit as 
 a noun. Visitings occurs in Macb. i. 5. 46. 
 
 8. Wherein, &tc. "Though we cannot give you equal entertainment, 
 yet the consciousness of our good-will shall justify us" (Johnson). 
 
 1 1. Ill the freedom of my knowledge. As my knowledge makes me 
 free to do, or gives me the right to do. Cf. Sonn. 46. 4 : "the freedom 
 of that right." 
 
 14. Unintelligent. Unconscious, not aware ; used by S. only here. 
 
 22. Such . . . which. Cf. iv. 4. 738 below^ : " such secrets in this fardel 
 or box, which none must know," etc. Gr. 278. 
 
 25. Encounters. Meetings ; as often. See Much Ado, p. 154. 
 
 Hath. The later folios have "have." Abbott (Gr. 334) explains it as 
 the old " third person plural in //?." Cf. R. and J. prol. 8 : 
 
 " Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows 
 Doth with their death bury their parents' strife ;" 
 
 and see note in our ed. p. 140. We have another instance in i. 2. i be- 
 low ; but that is perhaps to be explained by the interposition oi star. 
 
 Royally attorneyed. " Nobly supplied by substitution of embassies, 
 etc." (Johnson); or " performed by proxy" (Schmidt). In the only 
 other instance oi attorneyed in S. {M. for M. v. i. 390) it is =^ employed as 
 an attorney. 
 
 27. That. So that ; a common ellipsis. Gr. 283. The Coll. MS. 
 needlessly inserts " so " before royally. 
 
 28. A vast. The later folios have "a vast sea." Cf. Per. iii. i. i : 
 " Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges." See also Ham. 
 p. 186. 
 
 30. Loves. For the plural, see Macb. p. 209 or Ham. p. 177. Cf.' 
 peaces in ii. i. 135 below. 
 
 32. Of. See Gr. 172. 
 
 33. It is. Cf. Macb. i. 4. 58 : "It is a peerless kinsman," etc. It is 
 oftener contemptuous ; as in R. and J. iv. 2. 14, A. and C. iii. 2. 6, etc. 
 
 34. Into my note. To my knowledge. Cf. T. N. iv. 3. 29 : "it shall 
 come to note," etc. 
 
 36. Physics the subject. " Affords a cordial to the state " (Johnson). 
 Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 34: "it doth physic love" (that is, preserve its health). 
 For the collective use oi subject ( = people), see Ham. p. 173. 
 
 Scene II. — i. The watery star. The "watery moon" of M. N. D. 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 149 
 
 ii, I. 162 (cf. iii. i. 203) and Rich. III. ii, 2. 69. See also R. and J. \. 4. 
 62 : "the moonshine's watery beams." For hath^ see on i. I. 25 above. 
 2. N'ote. Means of noting or marking time. Cf. Mtich Ado, p. 144. 
 Clarke explains the shepherd'' s note as "noted by the shepherd." "The 
 allusion is peculiarly happy, shepherds ' keeping watch of their flocks by 
 night'' being natural astronomers. Cf. Liike, ii. 8" (Crosby). 
 
 5. For perpeticity. For all lime, forever. Cf. Cyinb. v. 4. 6 : " Groan 
 so in perpetuity," etc. 
 
 6. Like a cipher, etc. Cf. Hen. V. prol. 17 : 
 
 "O pardon! since a crooked figure may 
 Attest in little place a million ; 
 And let us, ciphers to this great accompt. 
 On your imaginary forces work." 
 
 8. Moe. Changed by most editors to "more." See A. V. L. p. 176. 
 
 ID. Part. Depart. See M. of F. p. 145. 
 
 12. That may llozu, etc. O that no nipping winds at home may blow, 
 to make me say. This fear was too well-founded ! For the ellipsis of O, 
 Farmer compares an old translation of the Alcoran of the Franciscans : 
 " St. Francis . . . said to the priors, That I had a wood of such Juni- 
 pers !" and The Two Noble Kinsmen : " That I, poor man, might eft- 
 soons come between !" Abbott (Gr. 425) explains the passage thus : " I 
 am question'd by my fears . . . that (there) may blow," etc. U. believes 
 the passage to be corrupt. Hanmer changed A^o to " Some " and trjily 
 to "early" (Capell " tardily ") ; and Warb. that may to "may there." 
 
 For sneaping ( = snipping, or nipping), rf. L. L. L. i. i. 100 : "an envi- 
 ous sneaping frost ;" and R. of L. 333 : "the sneaped birds." 
 
 16. Put ns to V. Bring us to it (that is, being tired of you). Cf. iv. 4. 
 153 below : " put you to 't" (that is, fear). 
 
 17. Seven-night. Cf. Much Ado, ii. I. 375 : " a just seven-night." See 
 also A. Y. Z. p. 177, note on A se''nnigiit. 
 
 Very sooth. In very sooth, or truth. See M. ofV, p. 127 and M. N. D. 
 p. 153, note on Good troth. 
 
 18. Between 'j. As Clarke notes, this particular elision, V for iis, oc- 
 curs often in this play ; and it is curious to observe how some one pe- 
 culiarity will recur in certain of Shakespeare's plays, as if he thought in 
 that special way at that special time of writing. For /«r/ = divide, see 
 y. C. p. 186, note on Part the glories. 
 
 20. None, none. " Shakespeare, like a true poet, knew perfectly the 
 potent effect of an iterated word ; but, also like a true poet and writer of 
 thorough judgment, used it but sparingly, and of course, on that account, 
 with redoubled force of impression. Here it has the effect of intense 
 earnestness " (Clarke). 
 
 31. This satisfaction, etc. " We had satisfactory accounts yesterday 
 of the state of Bohemia" (Johnson). 
 
 33. Ward. Point of defence ; a metaphor taken from fencing. For 
 the literal use, see Temp. i. 2. 471 : " Come from thy ward," etc. 
 
 38. Adventure. Venture ; as in ii. 3. 162 and iv. 4. 448 below. 
 
 39. Borrow. S. does not elsewhere use borrow as a noun, nor at with 
 the name of a country. 
 
l^o NOTES. 
 
 41. Let hi?n there. "Let him remain there" (Schmidt), Warb. took 
 let to be — hinder (cf. Ham. i. 4. 85, etc.), and therefore changed him in 
 40 to " you." Clarke adopts Malone's explanation of let him : " let or 
 hinder himself," that is, stay. 
 
 Gest. The name given to the list (Fr. giste or £zte) of the appointed 
 stages in a royal progress or journey ; here = the fixed limit of the visit, 
 as the context shows. Steevens cites Strype's Memorials, etc., where the 
 Archbishop entreats Cecil " to let him have the new resolved upon 
 gests, from that time to the end, that he might from time to time know 
 where the king was ;" also Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, 1594 : 
 
 " Castile, and lovely Elinor with him. 
 Have in their gests i-esolv'd for Oxford town;" 
 
 and the The White Devil, 161 2 : 
 
 "like the gests in the progress, 
 You know where you shall find me." 
 
 The gests were strictly the stopping-places, but the name came to be ap- 
 plied to the written list of them. 
 
 42. Good deed. In very deed ; the ^f<?^ being intensive, as \\\ good sooth 
 {Temp. ii. 2. \^o), good ti-oth (see on 17 above), etc. The ist folio has 
 " (good-deed) " here, the later folios have " (good-heed) " or " (good 
 heed)." 
 
 43. Jar. Tick. Cf. the verb in Rich. II. v. 5. 51 : 
 
 "My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar 
 Their watches on unto mine eyes," etc. 
 
 Holt White quotes Heywood, Troia Britannica : " He hears no waking- 
 clocke, nor watch to jarre ;" and Malone adds The Spanish Tragedy : 
 " the minutes jerring, and the clocke striking." 
 
 44. IVhat lady she. Whatever lady she may be, any lady whatever. 
 The Coll. MS. has "should" for she, and St. and Abbott (Gr. 255) print 
 "lady- she." Schmidt puts the passage under " j//^ = woman " (see 
 A. Y. L. p. 170, or Gr. 224), and makes the phrase = " a woman that is 
 a lady ;" but it seems better to consider it elliptical, as W., Clarke, and 
 others do. W. remarks that, while "should" is plausible, the original 
 reading is " neither obscure nor inelegant " and " has a quaint fascina- 
 tion, which is lost in the proposed emendation." Mr, J. Crosby has sug- 
 gested " e'er " for she, but now prefers the latter. 
 
 47. Limber, Flexible, weak ; the only instance of the word in S. 
 
 48. Unsphere the stars. Remove them from their spheres (as the word 
 was used in the Ptolemaic astronomy) or their orbits. Cf. M. N. D. ii, 
 I. 153 : " And certain stars shot madly from their spheres," etc. 
 
 50. Verily is. The ist folio has " Verely ' is ;" and St. and W. read 
 " Verily 's." 
 
 53. Fay your fees, etc. "An allusion to a piece of English law pro- 
 cedure, which, although it may have been enforced till very recently, 
 could hardly be known to any except lawyers, or those who had them- 
 selves actually been in prison on a criminal charge— that, whether guilty 
 or innocent, the prisoner was liable to pay a fee on his liberation" 
 (Lord Campbell). 
 
ACT I. SCENE IT. 151 
 
 57. Should. For Shakespeare's use of may, might, shall, should, will, 
 would, etc., the reader may consult Gr. 307-331. ,.-,,• 
 
 62. Lordings. Lordlings (not used by S.). Ihe word is=lord in 2 
 Heji VL i I. 145 : " Lordings, farewell ;" and P. F.211: " It was a lord- 
 ing's daughter, the fairest one of three." Cf. Spenser, E. Q. 111. 9- 3 • 
 "Then listen, Lordings," etc. _ , ^, , i, ^j 
 
 68. Changed. Exchanged ; as in Temp. 1. 2. 441 : " They have chang d 
 
 eves " etc. 
 ' 70 Doctrine. Teaching, mstruction. See R. and J. p. 146, note on 
 Pay that doctrine. Malone made doctrine a trisyllable, but that is not 
 satisfactory here. Abbott (Gr. 505) puts the line among those with 
 four accents." The later folios have " no nor dream d, and Speddmg 
 conjectures " neither dream'd." 
 
 73. Blood. Passions. See Much Ado, p. 131, note on Eaith melteth 
 into blood. . . . , . , , . . 
 
 74. The imposition cleared, etc. " That is, setting aside original sm , 
 bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, we might have 
 boldly protested our innocence to Heaven " (Warb.). 
 
 77 To 's. To us. See on 18 above, and cf. 91 and 94 below. 
 
 80. Grace to boot! " Grace or Heaven help me !" (Malone). Cf. Rich. 
 III. V. 3. 301 : " Saint George to boot !" which Schmidt thinks may be a 
 parallel case. 
 
 ^A. And that. That is, and //. See Gr. 285. 
 
 86. Is he zvonyet? Leontes has been aside, playing with Mamillius 
 while Hermione has been pleading with Polixenes, as he had suggested 
 
 in 27 above. . , , , i v. 
 
 87. At my request he would not. " Precisely the muttered comment 
 of a susceptible, irritable, jealous-natured man. Be it remarked that 
 Leontes is jealous by nature; Othello, by circumstance. Ihe one is 
 innately given to suspicion ; the other is with difficulty made suspicious 
 (Clarke). Cf p. 31 above. 
 
 Gervinus remarks: "Coleridge thought fit to read this play in im- 
 mediate connection with Othello, whose jealousy is in every respect the 
 reverse of that of Leontes. It is so in fact, though we understand the 
 contrast differently from Coleridge. The jealousy of Leontes, and ot 
 Othello also, is not founded on the sensitive faculty alone ; in O hello 
 it is deeply connected with his feelings of honour ; in Leontes with tyr- 
 anny, as Shakespeare says. We should define it more clearly if we 
 were to say with wilfulness. Shakespeare has in both mstances shown 
 us the origin of this passion out of a mere nothing, and its frightful con- 
 sequences ; the destruction of the whole happiness of life m the one, and 
 the happiness of half a life in the other, from the madness of a moment. 
 
 prone to it, has no outward circumstances to ^^ u n • 
 
 suocrester. The difference of situation in the two is striking : Othello is 
 led^o doubt the friend of whom he is jealous by facts not to be denied ; 
 he is made to perceive that in his wife her own father had reasons tor 
 
152 NOTES. 
 
 being deceived ; the Moor is doubtful of himself and of his own quali- 
 ties, and he conceives a mistrust of himself and of the world, which w^as 
 rooted in his whole situation ; all this heaped together the smouldering 
 fire of his jealousy, which the false lago blew into a flame. But Leontes' 
 situation is quite different : he has no causes of jealousy against his wife, 
 none against his friend ; his self-reliance, his royal rank, prevent in him 
 the all-pervading feeling of Othello, who thinks himself despised ; all 
 those around him, the courtiers, Camillo, Antigonus, Paulina, loudly and 
 firmly testify against his delusion ; but there is that within himself more 
 dangerous than the slanderer at Othello's side. After his conscience 
 has been once infected, after Hermione's friendly invitation and its re- 
 joinder have aroused his "suspicion, he is the slave, not of love, not of 
 passion, not of feeling, but of his own imagination ; dwelling on his own 
 imaginings, he gives way to the most extraordinary brooding over im- 
 probable and impossible things, until he is satisfied of the infallibility of 
 his convictions, and confirmed in the obstinacy which characterizes the 
 weak judgment of all wilful persons. This obstinacy, this hard-hearted- 
 ness, embitters his disposition, and far from feeling, like Othello, pain for 
 his loss, Leontes indulges in hatred and persecution, and increases both 
 through his dread of intrigues, which exist only in his own imagination. 
 The contrast between this wilfulness, this presumed certainty and supe- 
 rior judgment, and the unsuspecting short-sightedness of Othello, is per- 
 fect ; and masterly in both is the progress of the delusion, built on quite 
 different foundations. In contrast with the taciturn Othello, Leontes, in 
 keeping with his moody and suspicious nature, is a great talker, in whom 
 thoughts and quick fancies throng, mingle, and pass rapidly from one 
 object to another." 
 
 96. Heat. Run, as in a race or heat. The Coll. MS. reads "clear," 
 and "good" for goal. But to the goal—\>\x\. to return to our subject 
 (dropped at 86 above). 
 
 104. Clap thyself my love. That is, put your hand in mine, in token of 
 betrothal. Cf. T. N. v. i. 159 : 
 
 "A contract of eternal bond of love, 
 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands ;" 
 
 and see note in our ed. p. 163. See also M.for M. v. i. 209 : 
 
 "This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract. 
 Was fast belock'd in mine ;" 
 
 and K. John, ii. i. 532 : " Command thy son and daughter to join hands." 
 Clap hands was the common expression for pledging faith in this way. 
 Steevens c\\jiO\.es, Ram Alley, 161 1 : 
 
 " Speak, widow, is 't a match? 
 Shall we clap it up?" 
 
 A Trick to Catch the Old One, 1618 : " Come, clap hands, a match !" and 
 Hen. V. v. 2. 133 : "And so clap hands, and a bargain." Malone adds 
 from Middleton, No Wit like a Woman's : " There these young lovers 
 shall clap hands together." Rowe (2d ed.) changed clap to "clepe" 
 (=call). 
 
ACT I. SCENE 11. 
 
 ^SZ 
 
 105. ''Tis. To mend the metre, Hanmer gave "This is," and Capell 
 "it is." 
 
 no. Tremor cordis. Trembh'ng of the heart (Latin). Dances— \\vcoh?>. 
 
 113. Bounty's fertile bosom. Hanmer's emendation of the "bounty, fer- 
 tile bosom" of the folios. It is generally adopted by the editors. 
 
 115. Paddling pahns. A contemptuous phrase. Cf 0th. ii. i. 259: 
 "Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand?" and Ham. 
 iii. 4. 185 : " Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers." S. uses 
 the wor^i only in these passages. 
 
 118. The mort 0' the deer. A prolonged note blown on the horn at the 
 death (Fr. /wtr/) of the deer. Steevens quotes Gxetwt, Card of Eancy : 
 " He that bloweth the mort before the death of the buck may very well 
 miss of his fees ;" and Chevy Chace (earliest form) : " The blewe a mort 
 uppone the bent." 
 
 119. Nor my brotvs. The allusion is to the horns of the cuckold, as in 
 so many passages that follow. Cf. Much Ado, p. 123, notes on RecJieat 
 and Baldrick. 
 
 120. r fecks ! A corruption oi in faith (some say oi in fact). S. uses 
 it only here. Halliwell cites Heywood, Edward IV.: "by my feckins !" 
 
 121. Baxvcock. "A term of endearment, synonymous with cJnick [see 
 Macb. p. 212], but always masculine" (Schmidt). Qi. Hen. F. iii. 2. 26, 
 iv. I. 44, and T. N. iii. 4. 125. 
 
 What, hast smtdch'd thy nose ? " It is reserved for such a poet as 
 Shakespeare to fearlessly introduce such natural touches as a flying par- 
 ticle of smut resting upon a child's nose, and to make it turn to wonder- 
 fully effective account in stirring a father's heart, agitating it with wild 
 thoughts, and prompting fierce plays upon words and bitter puns. Every 
 phase that passion takes — writhing silence, tortured utterance, tearful 
 lamentations, muttered jests more heart -withering than cries or com- 
 plaints — all are known to Shakespeare, and are found in his page as in 
 nature's" (Clarke). 
 
 123. Not neat, tic. "Recollecting that neat is the ancient term for 
 horned cattle, he says not neat, but cleanly'''' (Johnson). 
 
 125. Virginalling. Playing with her fingers, as on a virginal, a keyed 
 instrument somewhat like a small pianoforte, probably so called because 
 used by young girls (Nares). It was sometimes called a pair of virginals ; 
 as in Dekker's GtcPs Hombooke: "leap up and down like the nimble 
 jacks of a pair of virginals." In like manner an organ was sometimes 
 called a pair of organs. Halliwell quotes Middleton, Chaste Maid, where 
 the goldsmith's wife says to her daughter : " Moll, have you played over 
 all your old lessons o' the virginals ?" 
 
 K. remarks that the idea conveyed in this passage is elaborated in 
 Sonn. 128. 
 
 128. Pash. A word that has puzzled the commentators (see Nares). 
 Jamieson {Scottish Diet.) defines it as "head; a ludicrous term," and 
 marks it as still used in Scotland. .5"//^^/j- — budding horns. 
 
 132. O'er-dyed blacks. That is, black fabrics dyed over with some 
 other colour ; or, possibly, as some explain it, dyed too much. Clarke says : 
 " The unsoundness of stuffs subjected to a black dye is notorious, and 
 
154 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 renders Shakespeare's simile super -excellent." The Coll. MS. reads 
 "our dead," and St. conjectures "oft dyed." Steevens remarks that 
 "black will receive no other hue without discovering itself through it," 
 and quotes Pliny, Hist. Nat. : " Lanaruni nigrae nullum colorem bibunt." 
 Malone adds 'L.y]-^, Euphices : "Truly (quoth Camillo) my wool was 
 blacke, and therefore it would take no other colour." 
 
 Hallivvell remarks that mourning habiliments were often called blacks, 
 and cites, among other illustrations, a letter dated 1619: "The queen's 
 funeral is like to be deferred for want of money to buy the blacks;" and 
 Heywood, E7ig. Traveller : " To weare blacks without, but other thoughts 
 within." 
 
 134. Botirn. Boundary; as in Ham. iii. i. 79, etc. 
 . 136. Welkin. Heavenly (Schmidt), or, possibly, blue. See R. and J. 
 p. 1 72, note on Grey eye. See also M. N. D. p. 168. 
 
 P'or villain as a term of endearment, cf. C. of E. \. 2. 19 and T. A. v. i. 
 30. It is feminine in T N. ii. 5. 16 and T. and C. iii. 2. 35. 
 
 137. Dear' St. For the contraction, see Gr. 473. Cf. iii. 2. 199 below : 
 "sweet'st, dear'st," etc. 
 
 Collop. Part of my own flesh; literally, a slice of meat. Cf. I Hen. VI. 
 V. 4. 18 : " God knows thou art a collop of my flesh !" Heywood, in his 
 Epigrams, 1566 (quoted by Boswell), gives it as a proverbial phrase : 
 "For I have heard saie it is a deere collup, 
 That is cut out of th' owne fleshe." 
 
 Ca7t thy dam ? — may V be ? Can thy mother be guilty of unfaithfulness .'' 
 Is it possible .-* See on iii. 2. 196 below. 
 
 138. Affection! thy intention, etc. Schmidt explains this: "Natural 
 propensity, thy power rules the inmost thoughts of men." Affection, is 
 clearly -sensual passion, or lust, as Mr. J. Crosby explains it (Amer. Bib- 
 liflpolist, Dec. 1876, p. 121), but we are not so sure that he is right in 
 making thy intention stabs the centre = ^' thy intensity penetrates to and 
 pervades every foot of the habitable globe" (cf. centre in ii. i. 98 below). 
 We rather take it to be = thy aim goes straight to its mark. For the rest 
 of the passage Mr. Crosby's explanation is perfectly satisfactory : "Con- 
 tinuing his jaundiced ruminations on \h.& effects of lust, he says, ' We know 
 thy pervasive force regards not even impossible things, but overcomes 
 all obstacles, making them possible and subsidiary to thy will. Why, then, 
 may not my queen, who I could have sworn was purity itself, become cor- 
 rupt when infected with thy poison ?' Another natural fact also strikes 
 his imagination, ' We know thou comninnicaf st with dreams, though how 
 this can be we are unable to explain. If, then, with what 'j- unreal thou co- 
 active art, and in \Yc\.2k^\x\2X\o\-\ fellow'' st corporeally with nothing, how much 
 more credent (credible) is it X\\-a.\. thou rnighfst co-join zuith something T . . . 
 Thus we understand the train of his jealous logic, and see how he works 
 up his mind to a state of frenzied certainty, when, in conclusion, he ex- 
 claims, ' Thou dost ! I am satisfied. Thy wicked passion sates itself to 
 the full, and that beyond commission — without warrant, or regard to me, or 
 my authoi'ity. Already I feel the evidence of this fearful power of affec- 
 tion — inwardly, in the infection, of my brains, and outwardly, peering out in 
 the hardening of my broivs.'' " 
 
ACT I. SCENE 11. i^^ 
 
 For credent = zxzdi\h\t, cf. M.for M. iv. 4. 29 : "a credent bulk ;" and 
 for commission — v<2iXX-^\\\., cf. 40 above. See also V. and A. 568 : 
 "Things out of hope are compass' d oft with venturing, 
 Chiefly in love, wliose leave exceeds commission," etc. " 
 
 147. Something . . . unsettled. Somewhat disturbed. For the transposi- 
 tion of the adverbial so?net/iing, cf 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 212 : " with a white 
 head and something a round belly" (that is, somewhat round). 
 
 148. W/iat cheer, etc In the folios this line is given to Leontes ; but 
 it appears to be part of the speech of Polixenes, to whom it was restored 
 by Steevens, at the suggestion of Rann. The emendation is generally 
 adopted by the editors. In the preceding line, St., D., and K, read " Ho '' 
 for Ho%o. K., who follows the folio, says : " Leontes, even in his moody 
 reverie, has his eye fixed upon his queen and Polixenes ; and when he is 
 addressed by the latter with 'Ho! my lord!' he replies, with a forced 
 gayety, ' What cheer ? how is 't with you V The addition of ' best broth- 
 er ' is, we apprehend, meant to be uttered in a tone of bitter irony." 
 
 149. Held. The verb is often, as here = have. Cf iv. 4. 398 below: 
 " Should hold some counsel," etc. For brozu of much distraction, cf v. 2. 
 45 below: "countenance of such distraction," etc. 
 
 151. It's. One of the rare instances of the possessive neuter pronoun 
 in S. See Temp. p. 120 and Ham. p. 186. The word here is spelt " it's " 
 in the folios, as in every other instance except M.for M. i.i.Sif, where we 
 find " its." For it possessive, see on ii. 3. 178 below. Cf Gr. 228. Itself 
 is printed as two words ("it self") in the folios; and in Cymb. iii. 4. 160 
 the two are separated by an adjective : "it pretty self" 
 
 154. Methonght. The folios have " me thoughts " (" methoughts" in the 
 4th); as in Rich. III. i. 4. 9, 24. There, by the way, as here, w-e find in 
 the folio methonght and methonghts mixed up in the same speech. Me- 
 thoughts was a form in use (probably suggested by methinks), but here 
 it is probably a misprint, as we have methonght ]\x's>X. below in 159. Coll. 
 adopts the reading of the Egerton MS., "my thoughts." See M. of V. 
 
 P- 135- 
 
 158. Do. The folios have "do's" or "does." Cf Gr. 333. 
 
 160. Squash. An immature peascod. See M. N'. D. p. 160. 
 
 161. Will you take eggs for money? A proverbial expression =will you 
 let yourself be duped or imposed upon, or will you take an affront ? The 
 origin of the phrase has not been satisfactorily made out ; but we find egg 
 used to denote something insignificant or worthless in A. W. iv. 3. 280 : 
 " He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister." According to the Var. of 
 1821, "Smith" states that the French have a proverb, "A qui vendez- 
 vous coquilles.? that is, whom do you design to affront?" Steevens 
 quotes A Match at Midnight, 1633 : " I shall have eggs for my money ; I 
 must hang myself;" and Reed adds from Relations of the most famous 
 Kingdomes, etc., 1630 : " The French infantery skirmisheth bravely afarre 
 off, and cavallery gives a furious onset at the first charge ; but after the 
 first heat they will take eggs for their money" (that is, tamely yield to the 
 attack). The meaning here is sufficiently shown by the reply, No, my 
 lord, I UlfighL 
 
 163. Happy man be 'j dole! " May his dole or share in life be to be a 
 
156 NOTES. 
 
 happy manr (Johnson), The expression was proverbial. Cf. M. W. iii. 
 
 4. 68, T. of S. i. I. 144, and i Heti. IV. ii. 2. 81. Dole was the term (as it 
 still is in England) for a charitable allowance of provision to the poor, 
 Cf. A. W. ii, 3. 76 : "what dole of honour" (that is, share, portion) ; and 
 2 Hen. IV. i. i, 169 : "in the dole of blows" (that is, dealing or giving). 
 
 170. Childness. " Childishness," which is the word elsewhere used by 
 
 5. Cf, Cor. V. 3. 157, etc. 
 
 171. Thick. Used by S. only here ; for thicken, see Macb. p. 212, note 
 on light thickens. Cf. Macb. i. 5, 44 : "make thick my blood." 
 
 Squire. Here used with half-sportive tenderness. For its contempt- 
 uous use, cf. Much Ado, i. 3. 54, 0th. iv, 2, 145, etc, 
 
 172. Offic'd. "Having a place or function" (Schmidt). Cf Oth.\. 3. 
 271 : " My speculative and offic'd instruments " (" active " in the quartos). 
 
 174. How thon lovest ns, etc. "Thus enjoined by himself, it could be 
 only the cruel injustice of that most unjust passion, jealousy, that makes 
 Leontes resent his wife's courtesy to Polixenes as a proof of her guilt " 
 (Clarke), 
 
 177. Apparent. That is, heir apparent ; as in 3 Hen. VI. ii. 2, 64 : " as 
 apparent to the crown," 
 
 178. Shall 'j-. Shall us ; that is, shall we, Cf, Cor. iv. 6. 148 : " Shall 
 's to the Capitol ?" See also T. of A. iv, 3, 408, Cyinb. iv, 2. 233, v, 5. 228, 
 /'^r. iv. 5. 7, etc. Gr. 215. 
 
 W. remarks : " S. had the minute details of the old novel vividly in 
 mind here : ' When Pandosto was busied with such urgent affaires that 
 hee could not bee present with his friend Egistus, Bellaria would walke 
 with him into the garden, where they two in privat and pleasant devises 
 would passe away the time to both their contents,' " 
 
 179. To your own bejiis, etc. Dispose of yourselves according to your 
 inclination. 
 
 181. How I give line. Cf, 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 39 : "give him line and 
 scope," 
 
 183. Neb. Beak, here=mouth. Steevens quotes Paynter, Palace of 
 Pleasure, ii^66 : "the amorous wormes of love did bitterly gnawe and 
 teare his heart wyth the nebs of their forked heads." Rowe changed it 
 to " nib," the more common form of the word. Halliwell quotes Ken- 
 nett's Glossary (MS, Lansd, 1033) : '■'• N^eb, nose, Bor. et Kent, hold up your 
 nebb. Sax, nebbe, nasus, nares ; item nostrum,* the bill, beak, nib or 
 nebbe of a bird; whence, by metaphor, the nib or nebbe of a pen; Island, 
 nebbe, nasus ;" Two Maids of Moreclacke, 1609 : " Shal 's not busse, 
 knight.? shal 's not neb?" and MS. Bodl.652: "He kisseth Benjamin, 
 anon his neb he gan wipe," 
 
 185, Allowing. " Approving " (Malone), or " conniving " (Schmidt), 
 
 186. ForJi'd. Horned. Cf. Oth.\\\. 3. 276 : " this forked plague " (that 
 is, cuckoldom). See also T. and C. i. 2. 178, 
 
 188. So . . . whose. Cf. y. C. i. 2, 316 : " For who so firm that cannot 
 be seduc'd .'"' See also such . . , which in i, i, 22 above, and such . . . that 
 in 253 below. Gr. 278, 279. 
 
 * So in Halliwell ; probably a misprint for "rostrum." — Ed. 
 
ACT I. SCENE 11. 
 
 157 
 
 190. There have been, etc. Cf. 0th. iv. i. 63 fol. 
 
 195. Strike. Cf. Ham. i. I. 162 : "no planets strike ;" and see note in 
 our eel. p. 177. 
 
 196. Predojuinant. An astrological term. Cf. A. W. i. i. 211 : "When 
 he [Mars] was predominant." See Macb. p. 203, note on Is V night's pre- 
 (iominajice, etc. For on 'j- = of us, see Gr. 182. 
 
 198. They. Omitted in the ist folio, but supplied in the 2d. 
 202. This great sir. Cf. iv. 4. 350 : " this ancient sir ;" 7\ iV. iii. 4. 81 : 
 " Some sir of note," etc. 
 
 204. Came home. A nautical phrase = would not hold. 
 
 206. More material. Either = ^/^^ more important the more you be- 
 sought him (Clarke), or more urgent than -^owx petitions. 
 
 207. They 're here with me, etc. "They go so far with respect to 
 me as to whisper," etc. (Schmidt) ; or, perhaps, "they are aware of my 
 condition" (V.). For ronnd—x\\\xxx\\wx, whisper, cf. K. John, ii, I. 566 : 
 "rounded in the ear ;" and see Hen. VI IL p. 168, foot-note. 
 
 208. So-forth. Steevens says : " At the corner of Fleet Market, I late- 
 ly heard one woman, describing another, say ' Everybody knows that her 
 husband is a so-forth.' As she spoke the last word, her fingers expressed 
 the emblem of cuckoldom." 
 
 209. Gust. Perceive; literally, taste. Cf. the noun in Sonn. 114. ii 
 and T.N. i. 3. 33. 
 
 212. So it is. We should say, as it is. 
 
 214. Thy conceit is soaking, etc. , Thy mind is absorbent, and takes in 
 more than ordinary blockheads do. Clarke sees a metaphorical allusion 
 to the dyeing of hats, indicated by the word blocks, which was used for 
 hats in that day, and which S. punningly uses for heads also : " Was this 
 black aspect of the matter taken by any pate but thine ? For thy concep- 
 tion of it is steeped in the dye, and will draw in more than the ordinary 
 run of hat-heads." For block = ihe wood on which hats were formed, see 
 Much Ado, i. i. 77. In Lear, iv. 6. 187 it is-^the fashion or form of a hat. 
 
 216. Severals. Individuals. See i/d';/. F. p. 146. 
 
 217. Lower messes. Persons of inferior rank, those who sat at the lower 
 end of the table. At a great man's table, the guests were not only seated 
 according to their rank or dignity, but were divided into two grades by 
 the great salt-cellar in the middle of the board. Steevens cites in illus- 
 tration of this Dekker, Hon. Wh.: "Plague him; set him beneath the 
 salt, and let him not touch a bit till every one has had his full cut ;" and 
 B. and F., Woman Hater, i. 2 : " Uncut-up pies at the nether end, filled 
 with moss and stones, partly to make a shew with, and partly to keep the 
 lower mess from eating." " In the Northnmberland Hotisehold Booke we 
 find that the clerks of the kitchen are to be with the cooks at the 'strik- 
 ing out of the messes ;' and in the same curious picture of ancient man- 
 ners there are the most minute directions for serving delicacies to my 
 lord's own mess, but bacon and other pieces de resistance to the Lord 
 Chamberlain's and Steward's messes " (K.). Mess also sometimes meant 
 a set of four ; "as at great dinners the company was usually arranged 
 into fours " (Nares). Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 207 : " you three fools lacked one 
 fool to make up the mess," etc. 
 
158 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 227. Chamber-coiinseh. "Private thoughts or cares " (Schmidt). The 
 foHo has " Chamber-Councels " Counsel and council are often confound- 
 ed in the early eds. 
 
 228. Cleans'd my bosom. Cf. Macb. v. 3. 44 : " Cleanse the stuff'd 
 bosom," etc. 
 
 232. To bide upon V. To dwell upon it, to repeat it. 
 
 234. Hoxes. Houghs, or hamstrings ; used by S. only here. Steevens 
 quotes Knolles, Hist, of the Turks: "and with his sword hoxed his 
 horse." 
 
 236. Grafted in my serioiis trust. Thoroughly trusted by me. 
 
 238. Home. " In good earnest " (Schmidt) ; or, perhaps, rather = com- 
 pletely, to the end. Cf. Tejjip. v. i. 71 : "I will pay thy graces home ;" 
 Macb. i. 3. 120 : " trusted home," etc. 
 
 240. Fearfid. Full of fear ; referring to the coward above. See J. C. 
 p. 175, note on With feaifnl bravery. 
 
 245. Wilful -negligent. For compound adjectives, see Gr. 2. 
 
 246. Industriously. Studiously, deliberately (Schmidt); used by S. only 
 here. 
 
 251. Against the non-performance. Heath conjectures " now-perform- 
 ance," and explains the passage thus : "At the execution whereof such, 
 circumstances discovered themselves as made it prudent to suspend all 
 further proceeding in it." Malone remarks that this is " a good interpre- 
 tation of the original text," which he has no doubt is what S. wrote. He 
 considers it, and we think rightly, one of those peculiar " double neg- 
 atives " of which Schmidt gives many examples in his Appendix, p. 1420. 
 See A. V. L. p. 156, note on No more do yottrs. Clarke paraphrases the 
 passage thus : " Of which the execution, when once effected, proclaimed 
 its non-performance to have been wrong." 
 
 253. Allotv'd. To be allowed, allowable. For such . . . that, see on 
 188 above. 
 
 256. /t^s. See on 151 above. 
 
 262. Think. Theo. added " it," and Hanmer gave " think 't ;" but, as 
 Malone notes, the clause which follows^ — My wife, etc. — is the object of 
 think as well as oi thought. 
 
 266. Hobby-horse. The folios have " holy-horse ;" corrected by Rowe. 
 
 269. ''Shrew. Beshrew. Cf ii. 2. 30 below, and see M. N. D. p. 152. 
 
 271. Which to reiterate, etc. To repeat which would be a sin as great 
 as that of which you accuse her, if the charge were true. 
 
 273. Noses. Omitted in Mrs. Clarke's Concordance, under nose. 
 
 275. Note. Mark, sign. Cf 2 above. 
 
 278. Noon. The later folios have " the noon." Abbott (Gr. 484) makes 
 the word a dissyllable. In the Var. of 1821, blind is put at the end of this 
 line ; and Steevens says that theirs, theirs are dissyllables. 
 
 279. The pin and web. An early phase of cataract in the eye. Cf. Lear, 
 iii. 4. 122 : " he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye," etc. Steevens, 
 in a note on Lear, quotes Every Woman in her Humour, 1609 : "a pin 
 and web argent, in hair du roy." Florio (as quoted by V.) defines cata- 
 ratta as "a dimness of sight, occasioned by humours hardened in the 
 eyes, called a cataract, or a pin and a web." 
 
ACT L SCENE IL 159 
 
 290. Hovering. Wavering, irresolute. Cf. R. of L. 1297 : " First hov- 
 ering o'er the paper with her quill." ^^ 
 
 294. Glass. Hour-glass. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 240 : " At least two glasses ; 
 Id. V. I. 223 : "but three glasses since," etc. See also iv. I. 16 below. 
 
 295. //er viedal. The folios have " her Medull " (" Medul " in 4th folio). 
 Theo. gave " his medal," and the Coll. MS. has " a medal." Like her med- 
 rt/=like a medal of her. Steevens remarks that Sir Christopher Hatton 
 is represented with a medal of Queen Elizabeth appended to his chain. 
 
 Cf. ffeji. VIII. ii. 2. 32 : 
 
 " a loss of her 
 That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 
 About his neck, yet never lost her lustre." 
 
 YoxjeweU see T. N. p. 154, and cf. v. 2. 32 below. 
 
 301. Meaner form. Lower seat, or position. See R. and J. p. 172. 
 ^^7/^/zV/= seated upon a bench, placed on a higher seat. _ The verb is used 
 intransitively (=to sit on a seat of justice, to be judge) in Lear, iii. 6. 40 : 
 " Bench by his side." Rear'd to jwrj-///)!) — raised to honour. 
 
 304. Galled. The folios have "gall'd," and the later ones read "thou 
 mightst." Steevens quotes Chapman's Odyssey, x. : 
 
 "With a festival 
 She '11 first receive thee ; but will spice thy bread 
 With flowery poisons ;■' 
 
 and Id. xviii. : "spice their pleasure's cup." 
 
 305. A lasting %vink. Cf. Temp. ii. i. 285 : 
 
 " Whiles you, doing this, 
 To the perpetual wink for aye might put 
 This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence," etc. 
 
 See also Ham. ii. 2. 137: "Or given my heart a winking, mute and 
 dumb." 
 
 307. Rash. Quick-acting. Cf. i Hen. IV. iii. 2. 61 : 
 
 "rash bavin wits. 
 Soon kindled and soon burnt;" 
 
 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 48 : " rash gunpowder," etc. 
 
 T^o^. Malicionsly. '■'• Malignantly, vi\\\\ effects openly hnrtfuV (John- 
 son). 
 
 310. This erack. Cf. 0th. ii. 3. 330: "this crack of your love shall 
 grow stronger than it was before." Z?;r(2rt'= revered, held in awe. 
 
 311. Sovei-eignly. For the transposition of the adverb, see Gr. 421. 
 
 312. I have lovd thee. Theo. transferred these words to the next 
 speech, which he explained thus: "1 have tendered thee well, Camillo, 
 but I here cancel all former respect at once : if thou any longer make a 
 question of my wife's disloyalty, go from my presence, and perdition over- 
 take thee for thy stubbornness !" Steevens retains the old reading, and 
 says : " Camillo is about to tell Leontes how much he had loved him. 
 The impatience of the king interrupts him by saying, 'Make that thy 
 question,' that is, make the love of which you boast the subject of your 
 future conversation, and go to the grave with it." We prefer Malone's 
 interpretation : "Make that (that is, Hermione's disloyalty, which is so 
 
i6o NOTES. 
 
 clear a point) a subject of debate or discussion, and go rot ! Dost thou 
 think I am such a fool as to torment myself, and to bring disgrace on me 
 and my children, without sufficient grounds ?" 
 
 314. Appoint viyself, etc. We are inclined to agree with Schmidt that 
 this means " to dress myself," etc. Cf. " drest in an opinion " {M. of V. i. 
 I. 91), "attired in wonder" {Muck Ado,\\. i. 146), "wrapped in dismal 
 thinkings" {A. W. v. 3. 128), etc. Clarke thinks appoint may mean " point 
 out, mark out, stigmatize." 
 
 317. Is goads, thorns, ^\.z. Abbott (Gr. 484, 509) is doubtful whether 
 this is a line " of four accents" or ys\i^i\\QX goads and thorns are dissylla- 
 bles, 
 
 320. Ripe. Mature, urgent, pressing ; as in M. of V. i. 3. 64 : " the 
 ripe wants of my friend," etc. 
 
 321. Blench. "Fly off, be inconstant" (Schmidt). CLM.for M. iv. 
 
 "Though sometimes you do blench from this to that, 
 As cause doth minister ;" 
 
 and T. and C. ii. 2. 68 : 
 
 "there can be no evasion 
 To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour." 
 
 322. Fetch off. Take off, make away with. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 324 : 
 " I will fetch off these justices " (that is, as Schmidt explains it, "make a 
 prey of them"). 
 
 325. Sealing the injury of tongues. Putting a stop to the mischief of 
 talk or scandal. 
 
 333. I am his cup-bearer. In Greene's tale Pandosto contriving "how 
 he might best put away Egistus without suspition of treacherous murder, 
 hee concluded at last to poyson him ; . . . and the better to bring the mat- 
 ter to passe he called unto him his [Egistus's] cupbearer." Franion, the 
 cup-bearer, endeavours to dissuade Pandosto from his purpose, but, find- 
 ing it in vain, " consented as soon as opportunity would give him leave to 
 dispatch Egistus" (W.). 
 
 337. Thou splifst thine oxvn. Thou dost rive thine own ; that is, it will 
 be the death of you. 
 
 345. If I coidd find, etc. Blackstone believed this to be a reference to 
 the death of Mary Queen of Scots ; but, as Douce remarks, the perpe- 
 trator of that murder did flourish many years afterwards. He adds : " May 
 it not rather be designed as a compliment to King James on his escape 
 from the Gowrie conspiracy, an event often brought to the people's recol- 
 lection during his reign, from the day on which it happened being made 
 a day of thanksgiving V 
 
 Break-neck. Halliwell quotes An Accoimt of the Christian Prince, 
 1607 : " the very breaknecke of our ensueinge sports," etc. 
 
 357. As he had. As z/he had. See Gr. 107. 
 
 360. Wafting his eyes, etc. Turning his eyes in the opposite direction. 
 For the transitive use oi falling ( = letting fall), see J. C. p. 169. 
 
 Mason remarks here : " This is a stroke of nature worthy of Shakes- 
 peare. Leontes had but a moment before assured Camillo that he would 
 seem friendly to Polixenes, according to his advice ; but on meeting him, 
 
ACT I. SCENE If. l6i 
 
 his jealousy gets the better of his resolution, and he finds it impossible to 
 restrain his hatred." 
 
 365. Hirw! dare not I— do not? Most editors point this " How ! dare 
 not? do not." W. has "How! dare not, do not.?" The folio reads, 
 " How, dare not ? doe not .?" We take the meaning to be " What ! you 
 dare not ? — or is it ' do not ' that you mean ? Do you know, and yet dare 
 not tell me ? You must mean something of the sort." The folio has an 
 interrogation point at the end of 365, but most of the modern editors fol- 
 low Capell (and Hanmer, who also changed Do you know to "You do 
 know ") in transferring it to the next line, as in the text. We are not sure 
 that the change is absolutely necessary, and adopt it with some hesitation. 
 "Do you know, and dare not?" might be an elhpsis for "Do you know, 
 and dare not tell me?" — ^just 2iS yozi mnst two lines below =you must be 
 intelligent, you must avow it. Polixenes evidently suspects that Camillo, 
 in saying that he dares not knoze^, means that he dares not tell what he 
 knows. K., v., and the Camb. editors retain the old pointing, making Be 
 intelligent to me imperative. 
 
 For intelligent='' bearing intelligence, giving information, communica- 
 tive " (Schmidt), cf. Lear, iii. 7. 12 : " Our posts shall be swift and intel- 
 ligent betwixt us," See also Id. iii. i. 25 and iii. 5. 12. On thereabouts, 
 cf. A. afid C. iii. 10. 29 : " Ay, are you thereabouts ?" 
 
 376. Sighted like the basilisk. W'ith eyes like those of the fabled basilisk, 
 that kill with a glance. See Hen. V. p. 183 (note on The fatal balls), or 
 R. and J. p. 186 (note on Death-darting eye). 
 
 377. Sped. Thrived, prospered. Cf. iii. 3. 46 below : " speed thee well 1" 
 See also iv. 4. 652. For a different meaning, see R. and J. p. 182. 
 
 378. Regard. Look ; as in T N. ii. 5. 59, 73, etc. 
 
 379. Thereto. Besides. Cf. 0th. ii. i. 133^- " If she be black, and thereto 
 have a wit," etc. 
 
 380. Clerk-like. Scholar-like. Cf. the use of<;/^r/^=scholar inyl/. A^ Z>. 
 V. I. 93, Hen. VIII. ii. 2. 92, Per. v, prol. 5, etc. 
 
 381. Onr gentry. Our gentle birth. Cf. Cor. iii. 1. 144: " gentry, title, 
 wisdom ;" R.of L. 569 : " By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's 
 oath," etc. 
 
 382. I71 whose sicccess, etc. To our descent from whom we owe our 
 gentility, or nobility. For j-^/«r<r^j-x= succession, cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 47: 
 " And so success of mischief shall be born," etc. 
 
 388. Cojijure. For the accent, see Macb. p. 230. /'<:zr/j- = actions, tasks 
 (Schmidt). 
 
 391. Incidency. Liability to fall or happen ; used by S. only here. C£ 
 incideni=\\2h\& to happen, in T of A. v. i. 203 : 
 
 *' other incident throes 
 That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain 
 In life's uncertain voyage," etc. 
 
 398. Me. For me=\, cf. A. Y. L. i. 2. 279, i. 3. 44, Rich. II. iii. 3. 192, 
 So7tn. 37. 14, etc. See also Gr. 210. 
 
 400. I am appointed hivi. Abbott (Gr. 220) makes him—hy him. 
 Clarke explains the passage thus ; " I am he who is appointed," etc. The 
 former explanation is perhaps to be preferred. The king has not been 
 
 L 
 
l62 NOTES. 
 
 mentioned in the conversation thus far, but Camillo is thinking of him. 
 Polixenes, who is not thinking of him — or at least only doubtfully — nat- 
 urally asks " By whom, Camillo ?" 
 
 404. To vice. To screw, move, or impel. Cf. the noun {=;screw), in 
 Much Ado, V. 2. 21 : "you must put in the pikes with a vice," Schmidt 
 cites T. N. V. i. 125 : 
 
 "I partly know the instrument 
 That screws me from my true place in your favour." 
 
 For verbs formed from nouns, see Gr. 290. D. reads "tice " (Heath had 
 suggested " 'ntice "), which W. approves, though he retains vice in the 
 text. W. says that " Camillo would hardly suppose such a case as the 
 violent forcing of Polixenes into the arms of Hermione ;" but vice does 
 not imply any violent forcing (any more than " screws " in the passage 
 just quoted), but mere motive power. The meaning is that Leontes feels 
 as sure of it as if he had seen it, or been the agent to bring it about, like 
 a screw which transmits the power in a machine. Cf. Nomenclator, 1585 : 
 " A vice or gin of wood, wherewith such things as are done within out 
 of sight, are shewed to the beholders by the turning about of wheeles." 
 
 407. Best. Printed with a capital in the folio. For the allusion, cf. 
 Rich. II. iii. 2. 132 : " Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas ;" 
 Id. iv. I. 170 : " So Judas did to Christ ;" 3 Hen. VI. v. 7. 33 : " so Judas 
 kiss'd his Master," etc. 
 
 412. Swear his thought over, etc. " Endeavour to overcome his opinion 
 by swearing oaths numerous as the stars " (Johnson). Szvear over—'''' swear 
 down" (C. of E. v. i. 227). Overs%vearc=.^\M^2.x again, in T. N. v. i. 276. 
 Some editors, including W., adopt Theobald's " Swear this though over." 
 Lettsom suggests " Swear this oath over." 
 
 414. Infiuences. The astrological term. Ql. Hani.\. i. 119, Lear. i. 2. 
 136, etc. See also Milton, Comus, 336 : " Or if your influence be quite 
 damm'd up ;" Hynnn on Nativity, 71 : " Bending one way their precious 
 influence," etc. 
 
 415. For to obey the moon. See on i above. Douce compares M. of V. 
 iv. I. 72 : 
 
 " You may as well go stand upon the beach, 
 And bid the main flood bate his usual height." 
 
 On for to, see IIa?n. p. 220, or Gr. 152. 
 
 417. Whose foundation, etc, "This folly which is erected on the foun- 
 dation of settled belief'' (Steevens). 
 
 423. This irimk. This body of mine. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 6. 163 : "this 
 frail and worthless trunk," etc. 
 
 425. Whisper. For the transitive use, cf. iv. 4. 777 : " whisper him in 
 your behalfs," etc. 
 
 426. Posterns. The smaller gates, the less frequented outlets of the 
 city. 
 
 429. Discovery. Disclosure. See Ham. p. 205, note on Prevent your 
 discovery. 
 
 431. Seek to prove. That is, by any appeal to Leontes. 
 
 433. Thereon, etc. And the execution of the sentence sworn by him. 
 
 436. Thy places. Thy honours (Steevens). Clarke sees in //a<:^j " the 
 
ACT I. SCENE II. 163 
 
 combined meaning of position as to fortune, and spot wherein to dwell ; 
 for we afterwards find that Polixenes confers manifold dignities and hon- 
 om-s upon Camillo, and keeps him ever near to himself in Bohemia." 
 
 438. Hence. _ For the adjective use, cf Cymb. iii. 2. 65 : " Our hence go- 
 ing " (often printed " hence-going "). 
 
 444. Professed. Professed friendship. Cf. M. foi- M. iv. 2. 192 : "by 
 the saint whom I profess " (to whom I profess devotion), etc. 
 
 446. Good expedition, etc. A much disputed passage ; but on the whole 
 Clarke's explanation seems satisfactory : " Good speed (or prosperous 
 issue of events) befriend me, and comfort the queen ; who is, with myself, 
 the object of his anger, but who, like myself, deserves no jot of his mis- 
 conceived suspicion !" Good expedition may well enough be=good speed, 
 or fortune (cf iii. 2. 143 below: "the queen's speed"). If, however, we 
 take expedition in its ordinary sense, we may perhaps accept Malone's 
 paraphrase : "Good expedition befriend me by removing me from a place 
 of danger, and comfort the innocent queen by removing the object of her 
 husband's jealousy ; the queen, who is the subject of his conversation, but 
 without reason the object of his suspicion !" Halliwell renders it thus : 
 " May expedition be my friend by removing me from this scene of dan- 
 ger, and at the same time may my absence, the object thus accomplished, 
 comfort the beautiful queen, who is, indeed, partly the subject of, but in 
 no degree the reasonable object of, his suspicion." Various emendations 
 have been proposed, none of which improve the passage. Warb. sug- 
 gested " queen's " for queen ; "that is, be expedition my friend, and com- 
 fort the queen's !" Neither he nor Johnson could see how the expedition 
 of Leontes w'ould comfort the queen; but, as the Camb. editors remark, 
 "his flight without Hermione would be the best means not only of secur- 
 ing his own safety, but of dispelling the suspicions Leontes entertained 
 of his queen." 
 
 Malone cites, in illustration of the phraseology, T. N. iii. 4. 280 : "it is 
 something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose ;" and W. adds ii. 
 3. 3 below ; 
 
 "part o' the cause. 
 She, the adulteress ;— for the harlot king 
 Is quite beyond mine arm," etc. 
 
 450. Avoid. Depart, begone. Cf. C07'. iv. 5. 34 : " pray you, avoid." 
 See also Temp. iv. i. 142, A. and C. v. 2. 242, Cymb. i. i. 125, etc. 
 
 Coleridge remarks on this ist act : " Observe the easy style of chit- 
 chat between Camillo and Archidamus as contrasted with the elevated 
 diction on the introduction of the kings and Hermione in the second 
 scene, and how admirably Polixenes' obstinate refusal to Leontes to 
 stay — 
 
 * There is no tongue that moves ; none, none i' the world 
 So soon as yours, could win me ' — 
 
 prepares for the effect produced by his afterwards yielding to Hermione ; 
 which is, nevertheless, perfectly natural from mere courtesy of sex, and 
 the exhaustion of the will by former efforts of denial, and well calculated 
 to set hi nascent action the jealousy of Leontes. This, when once ex- 
 cited, is unconsciously increased by Hermione : 
 
i64 NOTES. 
 
 ' Yet, good deed, Leontes, 
 I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind 
 What lady she her lord ;' 
 
 accompanied, as a good actress ought to represent it, by an expression 
 and recoil of apprehension that she had gone too far. 
 
 'At my request, he would not,' 
 The first working of the jealous fit — 
 
 ' Too hot, too hot ;' 
 
 The morbid tendency of Leontes to lay hold of the merest trifles, and 
 his grossness immediately afterwards — 
 
 ' Paddlmg palms and pinching fingers' — 
 
 followed by his strange loss of self-control in his dialogue with the 
 little boy." 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — 5. As if I were a baby still. " Can anything be more per- 
 fectly true to young boy nature ? And not only in this touch, but in 
 the whole sketch of the child's character, S. has drawn Mamillius with 
 ' Nature's own sweet and cunning hand ' " (Clarke). 
 
 7. For because. Cf K. John, ii. i. 588 : " But for because he hath not 
 wooed rne yet," etc. On /tr^ because, see Gr. 151. 
 
 II. Taught you this. The ist folio has "taught 'this," which W. re- 
 tains and defends. It must be admitted that in some other instances the 
 apostrophe seems to indicate the elision of a pronoun, etc. Cf. Gr. 461. 
 
 20. Encounter. Befall ; as in Cymb. i. 6. 112 : 
 
 "it were fit 
 That all the plagues of hell should at one time 
 Encounter such revolt." 
 
 25. A sad tale 'j best for winter. An allusion to the title of the com- 
 edy. " This first portion of the play — full of chilling suspicion, bitter in- 
 justice, and cold-blooded cruelty — harmonizes finely with the name of 
 The Winter'' s Tale ; while the warmth of youthful beauty, the glow of 
 young love, the return of confidence, the restoration to faith and truth, 
 the revival from death to life, in the latter portion of the play, poetically 
 consist with the ripeness of summer and the rich colouring of the season 
 then made its existing time " (Clarke). 
 
 33. Was he met, etc. Clarke says : " Admirably does the he, his, and 
 ///;;/ in this line, referring to the unnamed Polixenes, serve to indicate the 
 perturbation of the speaker." It is possible, however, that it merely in- 
 dicates the continuation of a conversation begun before the parties come 
 upon the stage. 
 
 37. Censure. Judgment, opinion. See Ham. p. 190 or Macb. p. 251. 
 
 38. Alack, for lesser knowledge ! Oh, would that I knew less ! 
 
 40. Spider. Henderson remarks : " That spiders were esteemed ven- 
 omous appears by the evidence of a person who was examined in Sir T. 
 
ACT 11. SCENE L 165 
 
 Overbury's affair : ' The Countesse wished me to get the strongest poy- 
 son I could. . . . Accordingly I bought seven great spiders, and canthar- 
 ides.' " Malone quotes Holland'' s Leaguer, a pamphlet published in 1632 : 
 " like the spider, which turneth all things to poison which it tasteth." 
 Clarke adds, in proof that it was supposed to be necessary to see the 
 spider in order to be poisoned by it, the following from a play by Mid- 
 
 dleton : , , ,. ,,, , 
 
 " Even when my lip touch d the contracting cup. 
 Even then to see the spider!" 
 
 For depart the Coll. MS. gives " apart," and St. conjectures "deep o't." 
 The meaning appears to be "go away unconscious of harm." 
 
 44. Cracks his gorge. That is, by endeavouring to vomit. Cf. Ham. v. 
 I. 207 : " my gorge rises at it ;" and see note in our ed. p. 263. 
 
 45. Hefts. Heavings, retchings ; used by S. only here. 
 
 50. Discovered. Revealed, betrayed (not = found out). Cf. iv. 4. 701 
 below: "any thing that is fitting to be known, discover;" and see on 
 discovery, i. 2. 429 above. 
 
 51. Pinch' d. Made ridiculous, served a trick (Schmidt). Cf. T. of 
 S. ii. I. 373 : "What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?" Clarke 
 believes that the word is = " galled, wounded, disabled." Some make 
 pijtch'd thing =xdig-hdihy or puppet. 
 
 65. Without-door. Outward, external. 
 69. Sear. Brand ; as in A. W. ii. I. 176 : 
 
 "my maiden's name 
 Sear'd otherwise,'* etc. 
 
 •]<). Replenished. Complete, consummate. Cf.^zV/^. ///. iv. 3. 18: "The 
 most replenished sweet work of nature." 
 
 On the passage, see p. 24 above. 
 
 82. Mannerly distinguishment. Decent distinction. 
 
 86. Federary. Confederate, accomplice. S. uses the word nowhere 
 else, but he \vdAfedary ox fcedary in the same sense in M.forM. ii. 4. 122 
 and Cymb. iii. 2. 21. 
 
 One that knows, etc. " One that knows what she should be ashamed 
 of, even if the knowledge of it rested only in her own breast and that of 
 her paramour" (Malone). ^//^=only; as in loi below. "The passage 
 has a confused effect (most naturally and characteristically produced, to 
 accord with the speaker's agitation) from Camillo being the antecedent 
 to 07ie that knows, while she 'j forms the antecedent to and privy to this, 
 etc." (Clarke). 
 
 90. Boldest. Changed by Steevens to " bold," to correct the " intoler- 
 able roughness " of the line. The plural viilgars is found only here. 
 Hanmer gave " the vulgar." See Gr. 201, 433. 
 
 95. Throughly. Thoroughly. See Ham. p. 249. 
 
 98. The centre. The earth, the centre of the Ptolemaic universe. Cf. 
 T. and C. i. 3. 85 : " The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre," 
 etc. See also on i. 2. 138 above. Steevens quotes Milton, Comiis, 597 : 
 
 "if this fail, 
 The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, 
 And earth's base built on stubble." 
 
l66 NOTES. 
 
 100. Is afar off guilty, etc. Is remotely (or indirectly) guilty for only 
 speaking. Cf. M. W, i. I. 216 : " a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off 
 by Sir Hugh here." Malone quotes Hoi. V. i. 2. 239 : 
 " Or shall we sparingly show you far off 
 The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?" 
 
 loi. Some ill planet. For the astrological allusion, cf. i. 2. 195 above. 
 Aspect (regularly accented by S. as here) was an astrological term for 
 the peculiar position and influence of a heavenly body. Cf R. ofL. 14, 
 Son7i. 26. 10, T. and C. i. 3, 92, Lear, ii. 2. 112, etc. 
 
 106. But I have, etc. Douce compares Ham. i. 2. 85 : " But I have 
 that within which passeth show," etc. Y ox pities, see on i. i. 30 above, 
 and cf charities in 107 2iXidi peaces in 135 below. 
 
 114. Good fools. Yoxfool as a term of pity or endearment, see A. Y. L. 
 p. 151. 
 
 115. When ye shall know, etc. " If it be desired to know the full dif- 
 ference between noble pride and false pride, here is shown the former in 
 perfection. No one better than S. knew the true distinction between 
 them ; the right time for and due amount of self-assertion, the simplicity 
 and severity of moral dignity : and in none of his characters are these 
 points more notably developed than in Hermione. Her few farewell 
 words to her mistaken husband in this speech combine in a wonderful 
 way the essence of wifely tenderness with the utmost wifely self-respect " 
 (Clarke). See also p. 24 above. 
 
 117. Action. " Charge, accusation" (Johnson); "law-suit " (Schmidt). 
 Mason and Steevens make this action I now go 07i — ^^ \Nh.2it I am now 
 about to do." 
 
 123. Be certain what you do, etc. " In the very first words Antigonus 
 utters, S. shows him to us in thorough contrast with Camiilo. By the 
 mere -woxd Justice Antigonus admits the possibility that Hermione may 
 be guilty ; while Camiilo, from first to last, feels the impossibility of her 
 guilt. Antigonus at once proclaims hims.elf a courtier, the man who 
 points out to his royal master the expediency and policy of what he is 
 about to do as touches his own person, his consort, and his heir-appar- 
 ent ; Camiilo is the faithful counsellor, the honest friend, the loyal ser- 
 vant, who strives to preserve the intrinsic honour of his king, rather than 
 to maintain himself in his favour. Not only are these two characters 
 finely distinguished in their delineation, the one from the other, but they 
 are most dramatically framed for and adapted to the exigencies of the 
 parts they are each destined to fill in the progress of the plot. Camiilo, 
 vyith his honourable nature and integrity of purpose, becomes the ulti- 
 mate bond of reconciliation and union between the two kings and their 
 respective children ; while Antigonus, with his courtier pliancy and lack 
 of earnest faith — having a glimpse of the better, yet following the worse, 
 path — becomes the agent for the king's cruelty to his infant daughter, 
 and loses his own life in the unworthy act " (Clarke). 
 
 130. / 7/ keep my stables, etc. Malone explains the passage thus : " I '11 
 never trust my wife out of my sight ; I '11 always go in couples with her; 
 and in that respect my house shall resemble a stable, where dogs are 
 kept in pairs." He adds that dogs are sometimes "tied up in couples 
 
ACT IL SCENE I. 
 
 167 
 
 under the manger of a stable." Clarke remarks that this is " a coarse 
 way of saying that he would not quit his wife an instant ; treating her 
 as his coach-horses and hounds are treated, which are made to go always 
 harnessed, or leashed in couples^ For a different interpretation, see 
 Ingleby's Shakespeare Hermeneiitics, p. 76 fol. Hanmer gave " stable- 
 stand," a term of the forest-laws = a place where a deer-stealer fixes his 
 stand to watch for the animals. The Coll. MS. has "me stable;" and 
 the Camb. editors conjecture "my stabler" or " my stablers." 
 
 132. Than. The folios have " Then," which Pope and some other 
 editors retain ; but it is probably the old form for Than. See Gr. 70. 
 
 135. Peaces. See on 106 above. 
 
 137. Abused. Deceived, See Ham. p. 215. 
 
 Putter-on. One who pnts on (see Ham. p. 257, or 0th. p. 180), or in- 
 stigates. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 2. 24 : 
 
 "they vent reproaches 
 Most bitterly on you, as putter-on 
 Of these exactions." 
 
 139. Land-damjt. A stumbling-block to the commentators ; probably 
 a misprint, though no one has made a satisfactory guess at the word in- 
 tended. Farmer conjectured "laudanum," Heath " half-damn," Walker 
 "live-damn," Nicholson " Lent-damn," etc. The Coll. MS. has "lam- 
 back" (=^beat). Johnson thought land-damn might mean '■^ rid the 
 country of him, condemn him to quit the land.'''' Malone suggested 
 " land-dam " = kill, bury in earth; and Rann that land-damn might 
 mean " condemned to the punishment of being built up in the earth." 
 W. considers this last conjecture " worthy of attention as being, to say 
 the least, not without reason," and, moreover, supported by T A. v. 3. 
 179 : " Set him breast-deep in the earth and famish him," etc. Schmidt 
 regards it as a misprint, and proposes to read "I would — Lord, damn 
 him !" 
 
 142, Doing thus. Hanmer inserts the stage-direction " Laying hold 
 of his arm ;"" and the commentators generally agree that something of 
 the sort is implied. Malone paraphrases the passage thus : "I see and 
 feel my disgrace, as you, Antigonus, now feel me, on niy doing thus to you, 
 and as yoii- noio see the instruments that feel — that is, my fingers." Heath 
 conjectured " instruments of that you feel," with " If so " for If it be so. 
 
 146. Dungy earth. The expression occurs again in A. and C. i. I. 35. 
 
 152. Forcefid. Powerful, strong; used by S. nowhere else. 
 
 155. In skill. Through cunning (Schmidt). Clarke explains it as 
 "designedly, purposely." 
 
 156. Relish. Feel, perceive. Cf Temp. v. i. 23 : "One of their kind, 
 that relish all as sharply," etc. 
 
 158. On V. Of it.' Cf ii. 2. 31, ii. 3. 15, iii. i. 14, and iv. 4. 5 below. 
 Gr. 182. 
 
 161. Without more ove7'ture. That is, without referring the matter to 
 us, or consulting us, 
 
 166. Approbation. Proof, confirmation. See Hen. V. p. 146 ; and for 
 approve ^^xove, Ham. p, 171. 
 
 171. Wild. Rash ; as in iv. 4. 555 below. 
 
l68 NOTES. 
 
 In post. In haste, '^tt R. and J.^. 2\%. 
 
 172, Delphos. Delphi. See on iii. i. 2 below. 
 
 174. Of stuff'' d stcfficiency. "Of abilities more than enough" (John- 
 son). Cf. Much Ado, i. I. 56 : " stuffed with all honourable virtues ;" and 
 R. and y. iii. 5. 183 : " Stufif'd, as they say, with honourable parts." See 
 also 0th. i. 3. 224 : " of most allowed sufficiency." 
 
 183. Free. "That is, accessible to all" (Schmidt). 
 
 Scene II. — 6. Whom. The ist folio has "who" here. For who= 
 whom, see Gr. 274 ; and cf. v. i. 108 below. 
 
 II. Access. Accented by S. on the first syllable only in Ham. n. i. 
 no (Schmidt). Cf. v. i. 87 below. 
 
 23. On. In consequence of. Cf. Rich. II. i. i. 9 : " If he appeal the 
 duke on ancient malice," etc. Gr. 180. 
 
 30. Licnes. Lunacies, mad freaks. The word is not found elsewhere 
 in the folio, but has been substituted by some editors for lines in M. W. 
 iv. 2. 22 and T. and C. ii. 3. 139, and for lunacies in Ham. iii. 3. 7 (see our 
 ed. p. 232). For unsafe, the Coll. MS. has " unsane." 
 
 33. Honey-mouth' d. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 334 : " honey-tongued Boyet." 
 See also V. and A. 452 and Rich. III. iv. i. 80. 
 
 34. Red-look' d. Red-looking. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 4. 11 : " lean-look'd 
 prophets ;" and M. iV. Z>. v. i. 171 : " O grim-look'd night !" See also 
 Gr. 294 and 374. 
 
 35. Trmnpet. The word is sometimes — trumpeter or herald; and 
 Schmidt explains it so here. Cf. K. John, i. i. 27 : " Be thou the trump- 
 et of our wrath," etc. See also Ham. p. 176. 
 
 45. Thriving. Prosperous, successful. Cf. J. C. iii. i. 13: "I wish 
 your enterprise may thrive," etc. 
 
 47. Presently. Immediately ; as very often. See Ham. p. 204. 
 
 49. Hammer'' d of. Hammered on (Gr. 175), pondered. Cf. T G. of V. 
 
 1.3. 18: 
 
 " Nor needst thou much importune me to that 
 Whereon this month I have been hammering." 
 
 See also Rich. II. v. 5. 5 : "I '11 hammer it out." 
 52. Wit. Wisdom. See T. N. p. 165. 
 
 Scene III. — 2. Weakness. The folio reads " weaknesse, if," and is fol- 
 lowed by some modern editors, who end the sentence at me in 7 below. 
 
 3. Part o' the cause. See on i. 2. 446 above. 
 
 4. Harlot. Lewd. The noun is sometimes masculine. Cf. C. of E. v. 
 I. 205 and Cor. iii. 2. 112 (Schmidt). 
 
 5. The blank and level. The mark and range, or aim. The blank was 
 properly the white spot in the centre of the target. Cf. Havi.'\w. 1.42: 
 "As level as the cannon to his blank;" 0th. iii. 4. 128: "And stood 
 within the blank of his displeasure ;" Hen. VIII. i. 2. 2 : 
 
 "I stood i' the level 
 Of a full-charg'd confederacy," etc. 
 
 See also iii. 2. 80 below. 
 
 6. Sh£. Her. See 0th. p. 199, or Gr. 211. 
 
ACT 11. SCENE III. 169 
 
 8. Moiety. Portion (as in Hatn. i. i. 90, etc.), not a half. For the lat- 
 ter sense, see iii. 2. 38 and iv. 4. 790 below. 
 
 17. Leave me solely. Leave me to myself. 
 
 18. Hmi. That is, Polixenes, to whom his thoughts now revert. 
 
 20. Recoil. The plural is to be explained by the intervening revejtges. 
 Cf. iv. 2. 21 below : " whose loss of his most precious queen and children 
 are even now to be afresh lamented." See also Gr. 412. 
 
 In himself too mighty, etc. Malone quotes Greene's novel : " Pandosto, 
 although he felt that revenge was a spur to warre, and that envy always 
 proffereth Steele, yet he saw Egisthus was not only of great puissance and 
 prowesse to withstand him, but also had many kings of his alliance to ayd 
 him, if need should serve; for he married the Emperor of Russia's daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 27. Be second to me. Be helpful to me, second me. Cf. the use of the 
 noun in Temp. iii. 3. 103, Cor. i. 4. 43, etc. 
 
 30. Fi-ee. Free from guilt, innocent. See Ham. p. 213 or A. Y. L. 
 p. 165. 
 
 35. Heavtngs. Deep sighs. Cf Ham. iv. i. I : " these sighs, these pro- 
 found heaves." 
 
 37. Medicinal. For the accent, see 0th. p. 210, note on Medicinable. 
 
 41. Gossips. Sponsors at baptism. In this sense the word is both mas- 
 culine and feminine. Cf C. of E. v. I. 405: "a gossips' feast;" Hen. 
 VIII. V. 5. 13 : " My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal," etc. 
 
 53. Professes. Changed by Rowe to " profess ;" but, if we may trust the 
 collation in the Camb. ed., he does not alter dares below. Clarke re- 
 marks that the third person " gives the excellent effect of Paulina's speak- 
 ing of another, while she thus confidently speaks of herself and her own 
 fidelity." }ioth professes and dares may after all be misprints. 
 
 56. Comforting. Encouraging, or aiding. Cf. T. A. ii. 3. 209 : " Why 
 dost not comfort me and help me out?" Lear, iii. 5. 21 : " If I find him 
 comforting the king," etc. The word properly means to strengthen (see 
 the derivation in Wb.); and the noun is still used in a similar sense in 
 the legal phrase "giving aid and comfort to the enemy." The Hebrew 
 verb translated "comfort" in Job, ix. 27 and x. 20 is rendered "recover 
 strength " in Ps. xxix. 13, and " strengtheneth " in Amos, v. 9. In Wiclif's 
 version of Isa. xli. 7, we find " he coumfortide hym with nailes, that it 
 shulde not be moued ;" where the A. V. has "fastened." 
 
 60. By combat. An allusion to the practice of " trial by combat," for a 
 description of which see the extracts from Holinshed in Rich. II. p. 147 
 fol. and p. 159 fol. 
 
 61. The worst. "The %ueakest,'Cc\^t least expert in the use of arms'''' 
 (Steevens). 
 
 63. Hand. Lay hands on. Cf Temp. i. 1.25: "we will not hand a 
 rope more." 
 
 67. Mankind. Masculine. Cf. Cor. iv. 2. 16: "Are you mankind.^" 
 Steevens quotes The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: 
 "That e'er I should be seen to strike a woman. — 
 Wh}', she is mankind, therefore thou mayst strike her ;" 
 
 and Mason adds from one of Jonson's Sonnets : " Pallas, now thee I call 
 
lyo 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 on, mankind maid !" Cf. B. and F., Monsieur Thomas : " A plaguy 
 mankind girl;" and T/ie Woman- Hater : "Are women grown so man- 
 kind?" 
 
 68. Intelligencing, Carrying intelligence, acting as a go-between; 
 used by S. nowhere else. Cf. intelligencer in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 20 : 
 
 "The very opener and intelligencer 
 Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven, 
 And our dull workings." 
 
 74. Woman-tir'' d. Hen-pecked ; the only instance of the w^ord in S. 
 Tire was a term in falconry, meaning to tear and devour a prey. Cf. V. 
 and A. 56 : 
 
 " Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fastj 
 Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone, 
 Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, 
 Till either gorge be stuff 'd or prey be gone;" 
 
 and 3 Hen. VI. i. i. 269 : 
 
 "and like an empty eagle 
 Tire on the flesh of me and of my son." 
 
 Steevens quotes Chapman, The Widow' s Tears: "He has given me a 
 bone to tire on." 
 
 78. Forced. " Constrained, unnatural, false " (Schmidt); as in iv. 4. 41 
 below: "these forc'd thoughts," etc. Coll. conjectures "falsed." On 
 baseness, cf. Lear, i. 2. 10 : 
 
 "Why brand they ns 
 With base? with baseness? bastardy?" 
 
 86. Whose sting, etc. Cf. Cymb. iii. 4. 37 : 
 
 " No, 't is slander, 
 Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongu§ 
 Out-venoms all the worms of Nile," etc. 
 
 90. Sound. The later folios have "found." 
 Callat. A coarse or lewd woman. See 0th. p. 201. 
 92. Baits. Attacks, harasses. The word literally means to set dogs 
 upon, as in bear-baiting. Cf. T. N. iii. I. 130 : 
 
 " Have you not set mine honour at the stake 
 And bated it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 
 That tyrannous heart can think ?" 
 
 See also 2 Hen. VI. v. 1. 148, etc. Here there is a play on beat (pro- 
 nounced bate) and baits. 
 
 96. The old proverb, etc, St. quotes Overbury's Characters : " The 
 devill cals him his white sonne ; he is so like him, that he is the worse 
 for it, and he lokes after his father." 
 
 100. Valley, Apparently explained by dimples in apposition with it 
 (Schmidt). Perhaps we should read "valleys," with Hanmer. 
 
 loi. His smiles. Omitted by Capell. 
 
 106. No yelloiv in V. Yox yellozv as the colour of jealousy, cf. M. W. i. 
 3. Ill : "I will possess him with yellowness." 
 
 Suspect, as lie does, etc. This, of course, is an absurdity, but perhaps an 
 intentional one, as in keeping with Paulina's excited state of mind. 
 
 Clarke remarks here : " In Paulina the poet has given us a perfect pict- 
 
ACT II. SCENE III. 171 
 
 lire of one of those ardent friends whose warmth of temper and want of 
 judgment injure the cause they strive to benefit. Paulina, by her perse- 
 verino- iterance of the word good, excites Leontes' opposition, and lashes 
 him into fury ; and now, when she has made a moving appeal in her ref- 
 erence to the infant's inheritance of its father's look, smile, and features, 
 she cannot refrain from merging into reproach, ending in actual extrav- 
 agance." ,. , r^^ 
 
 Cf. what Mrs. Jameson says of her : " Pauhna does not fill any osten- 
 sible office near the person of the queen, but is a lady of high rank m the 
 court — the wife of the Lord Antigonus. She is a character strongly 
 drawn from real and common life— a clever, generous, strong-mnided, 
 warm-hearted woman, fearless in asserting the truth, firm m her sense ot 
 ri^ht, enthusiastic in all her affections ; quick in thought, resolute in 
 "word, and energetic in action ; but heedless, hot-tempered, impatient, 
 loud, bold, voluble, and turbulent of tongue ; regardless of the feelings of 
 those for whom she would sacrifice her life, and injuring from excess of 
 zeal those whom she most wishes to serve. How many such are there in 
 the world ! But Paulina, though a very termagant, is yet a poetical ter- 
 magant in her way ; and the manner in which all the evil and dangerous 
 tendencies of such a temper are placed before us, even while the individ- 
 ual character preserves the strongest hold upon our respect and admira- 
 tion, forms an impressive lesson, as well as a natural and delightful por- 
 
 " in the scene, for instance, where she brings the infant before Leoiites 
 with a hope of softening him to a sense of his injustice—' an office which,' 
 as she observes, ' becomes a woman best '—her want of self-government, 
 her bitter, inconsiderate reproaches, only add, as we might easily suppose, 
 to his fury. Here, while we honour her courage and her affection, we can- 
 not help regretting her violence. . ■, vr .u ^ v •. 
 
 "We see, too, in Paulina, what we so often see m real lite, that it is 
 not those who are most susceptible in their own temper and feelings who 
 are most delicate and forbearing towards the feelings of others. She does 
 not comprehend, or will not allow for, the sensitive weakness of a mind 
 less firmly tempered than her own. ... _ , 
 
 "We can only excuse Paulina by recollecting that it is a part of her 
 purpose to keep alive in the heart of Leontes the remembrance of his 
 queen's perfections and of his own cruel injustice. It is admirable, too, 
 that Hermione and Paulina, while sufficiently approximated to afford all 
 the pleasure of contrast, are never brought too nearly in contact on the 
 scene or in the dialogue ;* for this would have been a fault m taste, and 
 have necessarily weakened the eff'ect of both characters. Either the se- 
 rene c^randeur of Hermione would have subdued and overawed the fiery 
 spirit%f Paulina, or the impetuous temper of the latter must have dis- 
 turbed in some respect our impression of the calm, majestic, and some- 
 what melancholy beauty of Hermione." 
 
 *" Only in tlie last scene, when, with solemnity befitting the occasion Pauhna invokes 
 the majestic figure to 'descend, and be stone no more,' and where she presents her 
 daughter to her, ' Turn, good lady ! our Perdita is found. 
 
172 NOTES. 
 
 109. Lozel. A worthless or cowardly fellow. Reed cites Verstegan's 
 Restitution, etc., 1605 : "a Losel is one that hath lost, neglected, or cast 
 off his owne good and welfare, and so is become lewde and carelesse of 
 credit and honesty." S. uses the word only here. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. ii. 
 3- 4' 
 
 " Ihe whyles a losell wandring by the way, 
 One that to bountie never cast his mynd, 
 Ne thought of honour ever did assay 
 His baser brest," etc. 
 
 119. Weak-hing' d. "Supportedby a weak hinge, ill-founded" (Schmidt). 
 Cf. the use of hinge in 0th. iii. 3. 365 : " no hinge ... To hang a doubt 
 on." 
 
 127. What needs these hands? Referring to the persons who are put- 
 ting her out of the room. 
 
 139. Encounter with. Cf. V. and A. 672 : " If thou encounter with 
 the boar;" i i%;2. /K i. 3. 1 14 : "He never did encounter with Glen- 
 dower," etc. 
 
 140. My proper. My own. Cf. Tejnp. iii. 3. 60 : " their proper selves ;" 
 M. for M. V. i. 413 : " his proper tongue," etc. 
 
 143. Fellozvs. Companions, peers. See T.N. p. 152. 
 
 148. Beseech you. Rowe's emendation (perhaps unnecessary) of the 
 "beseech' " of the folio. See on ii. i. 11 aloove. 
 
 Clarke remarks here : " It is worthy of observation that the character 
 of this speaker is delineated with so much moral beauty throughout 
 (from that speech of chivalrous loyalty to his queen and courageous loy- 
 alty to his king, ' For her, my lord, I dare my life lay down,' etc., ii. i. 126 
 fol, down to the present earnest remonstrance) that in the play of any 
 other dramatist it would have assumed name and shape as a personage 
 of importance ; whereas, in Shakespeare's wealth of resource, and care in 
 finishing even the most subordinate parts among his drajnatis persojice, 
 it merely figures as ' Fiist Lord.' " 
 
 150. Dear. Devoted, earnest, zealous. See Temp. p. 124 (note on 
 The dearest 0' th' loss), or Rich. 11.^. 151. 
 
 160. Midwife. Used contemptuously = old woman (Schmidt). 
 
 162. This beard 's grey. Theo. conjectured " his " for this, and Coll. 
 reads " thy." Perhaps, as Malone suggests, the king takes hold of the 
 beard of Antigonus. See on ii. i. 142 above. Adventure^xtwtwxQ, dare ; 
 as in i. 2. 38 above. 
 
 168. Swear by this sword. See Ilajn. p. 197, note on Up07i my szvord ; 
 and cf. iii. 2. 123 below. 
 
 170. Fail. Failure. Cf. v. 1.27 below: "my issue's fail." See also 
 IIe7t. VIII. i. 2. 145, Cymb. iii. 4. 66, etc. 
 
 172. Lewd-tongiCd. Vile-tongued, foul-spoken. Ci. lewd \\\ T. of S. 
 iv. 3. 65 : "A velvet dish ! fie, fie ! 't is lewd and filthy," etc. 
 
 178. It 0W71. The reading of ist and 2d folios ; the 3d and 4th have 
 "its own." This old possessive it {ox yt) is found fourteen times in the 
 1st folio, and it is curious that in six of these it occurs in the combination 
 it own.^ It is to be noted also that in the only instance in which its ap- 
 pears in our present Bible [Lev. xxv. 5), the ed. of 161 1 has "it owne ;" 
 
ACT II. SCENE III 1 7^ 
 
 and in the Geneva version of 1579 we find "it owne accorde " in Acts, 
 xii. 10. So in Sylvester's Dit. Bartas, 1605 : 
 
 "Much like a Candle fed witii it owne humour, 
 By little and little it owne selfes consumer." 
 
 These and similar instances would seem to show that the old possessive 
 it was often retained in this expression after it had gone out of general 
 use ; and they justify us in assuming that it ozun is what S. probably 
 wrote here. Its own (or it's oxvn), of which we have a solitary instance 
 in 1. 2. 256 above, may be the printer's variation from the MS.; though it 
 is not nnprobable that the poet may have written it so. It is evident 
 from the number of times that its occurs in this play and in Temp., writ- 
 ten about the same time (seven out of the ten instances of its in the folio 
 are m these two plays*), that he was getting into the way of using the 
 new pronoun, and he might write its own intentionally in one passage and 
 It ozvn inadvertently or trom force of habit in another. 
 
 Hudson (school ed. oillam. p. 235) sneers at the editors— White, Fur- 
 ness, the Camb. editors, and others— who retain the possessive it in the 
 text, calling this " conservatism in // dotage ;" but there is precisely the 
 same reason for retaining it as for retaining any other archaic word or 
 construction that we find in the original text. We have no more right to 
 change the possessive it to its than we have to change his to its in the 
 scores of passages in which it is equivalent to the modern neuter pos- 
 sessive. The " conservatism " that preserves the Elizabethan peculiarities 
 of the poet's grammar and vocabulary is a praiseworthy characteristic of 
 what Furnivall calls the "Victorian school" of Shakespearian criticism; 
 in marked contrast to the practice of the commentators of the last cen- 
 tury, who were given to "correcting" Shakespeare's English by the 
 standards of their own time. 
 
 182. Covi77iend it strangely. Commit it as a stranger (Johnson). 
 
 184. Present. Instant, immediate ; as often. Cf. M.for M. ii. 4. 152 : 
 "Sign me a present pardon for my brother;" C.ofE. v. i. 176 : "send 
 some present help," etc. 
 
 l?>6. Spirit. Monosyllabic, as often (=j/r?/^). Gr. 463. 
 
 190. Require. Nearly=deserve ; as in iii. 2. 62 below. 
 
 192. Loss. Halliwell quotes Baret, Alvearie, 1580 : " Losse, hurt, prop- 
 erly things cast out of a shippe in time of a tempest." Cf Beji. VIII. 
 11.2.31: 
 
 " He counsels a divorce ; a loss of her 
 That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 
 About his neck," etc. 
 
 There, as here, /(?j-j = casting away, discarding. 
 
 199. ' T is good speed, etc. Changed by Pope to " This good speed fore- 
 tells," etc. For ellipsis of nominative, see Gr. 399-402. 
 
 * In two of the other three (M.for M. i. 2. 4 and Hen. VIII. i. i. 18) it is emphatic 
 Heji.yill. IS, moreover, one of the latest of the plays. The third instance is in 2 He7i. 
 VI. m. 2. 393. 
 
174 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. — 2. The isle. In making "Delphos" an island, S. simply 
 follows Greene's novel, in which the queen desires the king to send " six 
 of his noblemen, whom he best trusted, to the isle of Delphos," etc. Per- 
 haps, as has been suggested, Greene confounded Delphi with Delos. 
 
 4. It caught me. This impressed me ; it referring to " the whole spec- 
 tacle " (Johnson). 
 
 10. Surpris''d. Overcame, overpowered. CL F. and A . Sgo : "to sur- 
 prise her heart," etc. 
 
 14. The time is zvorth the use on V. The time we have spent is worth 
 the trouble it has cost us (Malone) ; or, the time has been well spent. 
 
 17. Carriage. Conduct, management. Cf 7! rt:;/a' C. ii. 3. 140 : "The 
 passage and whole carriage of this action," etc. 
 
 19. Divine. Priest. Cf Cor. ii. 3. 64: "our divines" (the Roman 
 priests), etc. 
 
 Scene II. — 2. Pushes, etc. Steevens compares Macb. iii. i. 117 : 
 
 "That every minute of his being thrusts 
 Against my near'st of life." 
 
 7. Purgation. Exculpation. See A. Y. L. p. 147. Here the word is 
 a quadrisyllable. Gr. 479. 
 
 10. Silence. The ist folio prints the word in italics, like a stage-direc- 
 tion ; the later folios have ^^ Silence. Enter,^'' etc. Rowe made Silence 
 a part of the Officer's speech, as in the text. Capell and D. assign it to 
 a crier, and the latter compares Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 2. As the Camb. edi- 
 tors remark, there is no reason why the officer who has already spoken 
 should not also command silence. 
 
 16. Pretence. Intention, design. Cf, Macb. ii. 3. 137 : 
 
 "Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight 
 Of treasonous malice," etc. 
 
 25. Mine integrity, etc. " My virtue being accounted wickedness, my 
 assertion of it will pass but for a //>" (Johnson). 
 
 27. If poivers divine, etc. Malone quotes Greene's novel : "If the di- 
 vine pozvers be privie to hitman actions {as no doubt they are) I hope my 
 patience shall make fortune blush, and my unspotted life shall stayne 
 spiteful discredit." 
 
 Clarke remarks upon as they do : " The fervour, faith, courage, yet 
 simplicity, summed in these three monosyllables, it would be difficult to 
 match. Shakespeare's parentheses are often marvels of condensed 
 power ; wonderful force and extent of meaning summed in a few words." 
 
 32. IVho. Rowe's correction of the " Whom " of the folios. 
 
 34. Which. That is, which unhappiness (Malone). 
 
 36. Take. Captivate. Cf. 7>;«/. v. i. 313 : 
 
 "To hear the story of your life, which must 
 Take the ear strangely," etc. 
 
 37. Ozve. Own, possess ; as very often. Cf A. W. v. 3. 297, Macb. 
 
ACT III. SCENE IT. 
 
 175 
 
 1. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, iii. 4. 113, etc. We have the modern meaning in v. i. 217 
 below. 
 
 38. Moiety. See on ii. 3. 8 above. 
 
 40. Fore. See Hen. K p. 155. 
 
 41. For life, etc. '''Life is to me now only grief and as such only is 
 considered by me; I would therefore willingly discard it" (Johnson). 
 Clarke paraphrases it thus : "I estimate life as I estimate grief — things 
 that I could willingly part with, while the one I would avoid destroying, 
 and the other I would avoid encountering." 
 
 43. '' T is a derivative, tic. "This sentiment, which is probably bor- 
 rowed from Ecclesiasticiis,\\\. II, cannot be too often impressed on the 
 female mind : ' The glory of a man is from the honour of his father ; and 
 a mother in dishonour is a reproach nnto her children ' " (Johnson). 
 
 48. With what encounter, ^X.c. "With what unwarrantable familiarity 
 of intercourse I have so far exceeded bounds, or gone astray, that I 
 should be forced to appear thus in a public court as a criminal " (D.). 
 For encounter, cf. Mnch Ado, iii. 3. 161, iv. i. 94, A. W. iii. 7. 32, etc. Un- 
 current = "objectionable" (Schmidt), unallowable (like false coin, that 
 is not allowed to "pass"), ^'/nzm^*^ = twisted or wrenched aside, 
 turned from the right course. Cf. R. and J. ii. 3. 19 : " Nor aught so 
 good bat, strain'd from that fair use," etc. Mason conjectured " stray'd," 
 which he thought to be favoured by one jot beyond the bound of hono7cr. 
 
 54. Wanted less impudence, etc. A form of "double negative" which 
 has caused much trouble to the critics, though it is not uncommon in S, 
 See A. Y. L. p. 156, note on No 7nore do yours. As Johnson remarks, 
 "according to the proper, at least according to the present, use of words, 
 less should be more, or wanted should be had.'''' 
 
 57. Dne. Appropriate, applicable. 
 
 58. More than mistress of^Xz. Hanmer inserted "I'm" before mis- 
 tress, but the ellipsis does not differ essentially from others in the play. 
 The meaning evidently is, I must not acknowledge more faults than be- 
 long to me. Cf A. Y. L. i. 2. 4 : "I show more mirth than I am mis- 
 tress of." 
 
 62. Requir''d. Deserved. See on ii. 3. 190 above. 
 
 65. As yourself co7?i?nanded. See i. 2. 174 above. "Nobly, simply, 
 truly, does Hermione state this point of self-vindication, and with as 
 noble a forbearance towards her most unjust husband" (Clarke). 
 
 75. Wotting. If they know. See Gr, 377, and cf. v. i. 229 below : 
 " Your honour not o'erthrown," etc. Wot occurs only in the present 
 tense and participle, and this is the only instance of the latter in S. 
 
 80. Level. See on ii. 3. 5 above. The passage is = my life is at the 
 mercy of your suspicions, which are like "the baseless fabric" of a 
 dream. 
 
 81. Which. Referring to life, not to the nearer dreams. Cf Gr. 218, 
 262, and 263. 
 
 84. Fact. The only meaning Schmidt gives to the word in S. is "evil 
 deed, crime." See Macb. p. 225. If we take it in its simple etymologi- 
 cal sense (from l^zUufactiim), it is = deed, which is proper enough here. 
 Johnson needlessly conjectured "pack," and Farmer "sect." "Pact" 
 
176 NOTES. 
 
 has also been suggested. Those of your fact =' those who do as you 
 have done. 
 
 85. Which to deny, etc. " It is your business to deny this charge, but 
 the mere denial will be useless — will prove nothing" (Malone). 
 
 91. Bug. Bugbear. See Ham. p. 267. For the derivation, see Wb. 
 Cf. Ascham, Toxophilus : "which be the very bugges that the Psalme 
 [Ps. xci. 5] meaneth on, walking in the night," etc. 
 
 92. Commodity. Advantage. Cf. 2 Heu. IV. i. 2. 278: "I will turn 
 diseases to commodity," etc. 
 
 93. The crown and comfort of my life. " The supreme blessing of my 
 life " (Malone). Cf. Cymb. i, 6. 4 : " My supreme crown of grief," etc. 
 
 98. Sta7'r''d most imluckily. That is, born under " inauspicious stars " 
 {R. and y. v. 3. III). For the astrological allusion, cf. i. 2. 195, 351, and 
 413 above. 
 
 99. //. See on ii. 3. 178 above. 
 
 100. Hafd. Hauled, dragged. See Much Ado, p. 137. 
 
 loi. Proclaim'' d. Printed "proclaimed" in the Camb. and Globe eds. 
 The folio has " Proclaym'd." 
 
 hnmodest. " Immoderate " (Schmidt) ; with perhaps the added idea 
 of "indecent, unseemly," as Clarke suggests. 
 
 102. Longs. Belongs. See Hejt. V. p. 160, or Hen. VIII. p. 162. 
 
 105. Strength of limit. " The limited degree of strength which it is 
 customary for women to acquire before they are suffered to go abroad 
 after child-bearing " (Mason). The 3d and 4th folios have " limbs " for 
 limit. 
 
 108. For life. The folio has " no life," which might pass with Han- 
 mer's pointing, " No ! life," etc. It seems more probable, however, that 
 " no " is a misprint. For is Keightley's conjecture (cf. 41 above) ; W. 
 reads "my." 
 
 114. I do refer me to the oracle. Cf. Greene's novel : "And that this 
 is true which t have here rehearsed, I refer myselfe to the divine oracle." 
 
 118. The emperor of Rjissia, etc. See extract from Greene, quoted on 
 ii. 3. 20 above. 
 
 121. Flatness. "Downrightness, absoluteness, completeness" (Schmidt); 
 the "fiat despair" of Milton {^P. L. ii. 143). S. uses the word only here. 
 
 122. Pity, not revenge. " True Shakespeare ! Magnanimity and for- 
 bearance to the utmost" (Clarke). 
 
 123. C/pon this sword. See on ii. 3. 168 above. 
 
 130. Breah iip. Cf. M. of V. ii. 4.^10 : " to break up this " (a letter) ; 
 and see note in our ed. p. 141. 
 
 131. Herniiojie is chaste, etc. Cf. Greene's novel (quoted by Malone) : 
 " The Oracle. Suspicion is no proofe ; jealousie is an unequal judge ; 
 Bellaria is chaste ; Egisthus blameless ; Franion a true subject ; Pan- 
 dosto treacherous ; his babe innocent ; and the kinge shall dye without 
 an heire, if that which is lost be not found." Coll. states that the eds. 
 subsequent to 1588 read "the king shall live without an heire." It is 
 probable, therefore, that S. used one of these later impressions. 
 
 Coleridge remarks : " Although, on the whole, this play is exquisitely 
 respondent to its title, and even in the fault I am about to mention still 
 
ACT III. SCENE II. 177 
 
 a winter's tale ; yet it seems a mere indolence of the great bard not to 
 have provided in the oracular response some ground for Hermione's 
 seeming death and fifteen years' voluntary concealment. This might 
 have been easily effected by some obscure sentence of the oracle ; as, for 
 example : ' Nor shall he ever recover an heir, if he have a wife before 
 that recovery.' " Cf. what Mrs. Jameson says, p. 25 above ; and see also 
 the extract from Dowden, p. 32. 
 
 141. To report it. For reporting it. Gr. 356. 
 
 142. Conceit. Conception, apprehension. See Ham. p. 213, or A. Y. 
 L. p. 162. Speed — fortune. Cf. the use of the verb in i. 2. 377 above. 
 
 144. {^Herniione stvoons.'] *' This mute succumbence to the blow dealt 
 her in the sudden death of her little son is not only finely tragic, but pro- 
 foundly true to the character of Hermione. She is not a woman ' prone 
 to weeping,' not one who can so ease her heart of that which ' burns 
 worse than tears drown;' she can command her voice to utter that dig- 
 nified defence of her honour, and bear the revulsion of thanksgiving at 
 the divine intervention in her behalf with the single ejaculation of 
 * Praised !' but at the abrupt announcement of her boy's death she drops, 
 without a word, stricken to the earth by the weight of her tearless woe " 
 (Clarke). 
 
 160. Tardied. Retarded, delayed ; the only instance of the verb in S. 
 
 161. Though I with death, etc. Cf. Macb. i. 3. 60 : 
 
 " Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 
 Your favours nor your hate." 
 See also 203 below. 
 
 165. Unclasp'd my practice. Disclosed my plot. For tinclasp''d, see 
 T. N.^. 127 ; and iox practice, Ham. p. 255 or Much Ado, p. 156. 
 
 166. The hazard. The 2d folio reads " the certain hazard," which is 
 quite in Shakespeare's manner, though Malone calls certain "the most 
 improper word that could have been chosen." Cf. R. of L. 13 11 : " Her 
 certain sorrow writ uncertainly;" Sonn. 115. 1 1 : "When I was certain 
 o'er incertainty," eta These and similar passages may have suggested 
 the emendation to the editor of the 2d folio. Rann conjectured " fearful 
 hazard," and Malone "doubtful hazard." 
 
 167. Iiicertainties. S. uses this word interchangeably with ziiicertain- 
 ty, as incertain with 2iucertain. 
 
 168. No richer than his honour. That is, with nothing to depend upon 
 but his honour ; having left all his wealth behind him when he fled. St. 
 joins this to the next sentence, putting a period after commended. 
 
 Glisters. Glistens (not used by S.), shines. See M. of V. p, 145. 
 
 169. Thorough. The ist folio has "Through" (the later folios 
 "Through my dark "), but as S. uses thorough and through interchange- 
 ably, Malone's emendation has been generally adopted. See M. N. D. 
 p. 136. Cf throughly in ii. I. 95 above. 
 
 170. Does my deeds, etc. "This vehement retraction of Leontes, ac- 
 companied with the confession of more crimes than he was suspected of, 
 is agreeable to our daily experience of the vicissitudes of violent tempers, 
 and the eruptions of minds oppressed with guilt " (Johnson). 
 
 Woe the while ! Cf Hen. V. iv. 7. 78 and J. C. i. 3. %2. 
 
 M 
 
1 78 NOTES. 
 
 174. Capell inserted "rather!" 2Sier Jlaying \.o fill out the measure; 
 and the Coll. MS. has "burning, boiling." The folio reads "boyling?" 
 
 According to a statute of Henry VIII. persons found guilty of secret 
 poisoning were to be boiled to death. 
 
 177. Mosi worst. For double comparatives and superlatives in S., see 
 Gr. II. 
 
 182. Were but spices of it. " Served only to season it, to give it a zest " 
 (Schmidt). Ci. Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 26 : " For all this spice of your hypoc- 
 risy." 
 
 184. Of a fool. As a fool, in the matter of folly (Gr. 173). Johnson ex- 
 plains the passage : " It showed \.\\q& first a fool, then inconstant and un- 
 grateful." Theo. changed/f^/ to "soul," and Warb. of\.o "off." Cole- 
 ridge says : " I think the original word is Shakespeare's, i. My ear feels 
 it to be Shakespearian; 2. The involved grammar is Shakespearian: 
 'show thee, being a fool naturally, to have improved thy folly by incon- 
 stancy;' 3. The alteration is most flat, and un-Shakespearian. As to the 
 grossness of the abuse — she calls him ' gross and foolish ' a few lines be- 
 low." 
 
 185. Damnable. For the adverbial use, cf A. W. iv. 3. 31 : "meant 
 damnable," etc. Gr. i. 
 
 186. Thou zuouldst have poisoii'd, etc. " How should Paulina know 
 this .'' No one had charged the king with this crime except himself, while 
 Paulina was absent, attending on Hermione. The poet seems to have 
 forgotten this circumstance " (Malone). Cf p. 17 above. 
 
 191. Shed water out of fire. "Dropped tears from burning eyes" 
 (Clarke). Steevens says, "shed tears of pity <?Vr the damned f but that 
 would hardly be expressed by '■'■ oict ^fire." 
 
 196. Dam. Elsewhere applied only in contempt to a human mother. 
 Cf. i. 2. 137 and ii. 3. 94 above. 
 
 203. Tificture. Colour. Cf. T. G. of V. iv. 4. 160: "the lily tincture 
 of her face ;" Sonn. 54. 6 : "As the perfumed tincture of the roses," etc. 
 
 207. A thousand knees, etc. " There is a wild exaggeration, a sublime 
 extravagance, in Paulina's diction that poetry alone can fitly give, and 
 which Shakespeare's poetry finely gives. These * naked, fasting,' ' thou- 
 sand knees'' — how grandly superior, in their bold ellipse, to the ' thousand 
 kneeling meji ' that tame correctness would have given !" (Clarke). 
 
 215. Made fault. Cf R. of L. 804 : "all the faults which in thy reign 
 are made ;" and Sonn. 35. 5 : " All men make faults," etc. 
 
 220. What 's past help, etc. Cf L. L. L. v. 2. 28 : " past cure is still 
 past care." 
 
 222. Petition. The word has been suspected, and "relation" (Sr.), 
 "repetition" (Coll. MS.), etc., have been proposed; hwi petition may 
 be = appeal. Clarke remarks that Paulina has urged the king 7iot 
 to repent, to betake himself to despair, etc., which may justify the use of 
 petition. 
 
 223. Minded. Reminded. Cf Hen. V. iv. 3. 13 : "I do thee wrong to 
 mind thee of it," etc. 
 
 228. Remember thee. Remind thee ; as in Temp. i. 2. 243 : " Let me re- 
 member thee what thou hast promis'd," etc. 
 
ACT III. SCENE III. lyo 
 
 229. Take your patience to yon. Have patience ; as in Hen. VIII. v. i. 
 
 106 : 
 
 you must take 
 Your patience to you, and be well contented 
 To make your house our Tower." 
 
 Scene III. — i. Perfect. "Certain, well assured" (Johnson). Ci. 
 Cymb. iii. i. 73 : 
 
 " I am perfect 
 That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for 
 Their liberties are now in arms ;" 
 
 and see Id. iv. 2. 118. 
 
 2. Bohemia. S. took his maritime Bohemia directly from Greene's 
 novel (see. p. 17 above); but the author of Consnelo has attempted to 
 save the poet's credit by showing that Ottokar II. possessed in addition 
 to his Bohemian and other territories a j-^^?/*?;-^ (possibly the little port of 
 Naon) which he purchased on the Adriatic, in order to justify the boast 
 that his dominions extended to that sea. 
 
 4. Present. Immediate, as in i. 2. 269, ii. 3. 184 above, and iv. 2. 46 be- 
 low. 
 
 II. Loud zveather . Cf. Temp. i. i. 40 : " they are louder than the weath- 
 er," etc. 
 
 20. Some another. That is, sometimes on the other. For the use of 
 another, cf. v. 2. 71 below : "another elevated," etc. See also M. N. D. 
 p. 168, 
 
 21. A vessel of like sorrow, etc. Cf. J. C. v. 5. 13 : 
 
 "Now is that noble vessel full of grief, 
 That it runs over even at his eyes." 
 
 22. Becoming. Comely ; referring rather to what follows than to what 
 precedes. The Coll. MS. has "o'er-running." St. makes (^^<:^;//z;/^=" self- 
 restrained." 
 
 26. The fitry. The frantic burst of grief. 
 
 32. Weep. The Coll. MS. gives "wend ;" but cf. 51 below : " Weep I 
 cannot," which may refer to the injunction of the vision. 
 
 For. Because. See Gr. 151. 
 
 39. Toys. Explained by i Hen. IV. iv. I. 145 : "a toy, a thing of no 
 regard." See also M. N. D. p. 179. 
 
 41. Squared. Ruled. Cf. v. i. 52 below. 
 
 45. Ea7'th. Land, country ; as in Rich. II. ii. i. 41, 50, iii. 2. 10, v. i. 5, 
 etc. 
 
 46. Blossom. Cf I Hen. VI. iv. 7. 16 : "My Icarus, my blossom," etc. 
 For speed— i-^XQ:, see on i. 2. 377 above. 
 
 47. Character. "The letters of Antigonus," mentioned in v. 2. 32 be- 
 low; as these are the "mantle" and the "jewel," with the "gold" of iii 
 below. 
 
 48. Breed. Furnish the means ol breeding, or bringing up. 
 
 49. Rest. Remain. See A. Y. L. p. 146. On wretch, cf. R. and J. i. 3. 
 44 ; "The pretty wretch left crying," etc. 
 
 51. Loss. See on ii. 3. 192 above. 
 
iSo NOTES. 
 
 55, Lullaby. Cf. Greene's novel : ''Shalt thou have the whistling winds 
 for thy lullaby, and the salt sea-fome, instead of sweete milke?" 
 
 56. Clamour. " This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters ; 
 then seeing the bear, he cries This is the chase, or the aniitial pursued'''' 
 (Johnson). 
 
 59. Sixteen. The early eds. have " ten," which Hanmer changed to 
 "thirteen;" but, as the Camb. editors remark, "if written in Arabic nu- 
 merals 16 would be more likely to be mistaken for 10 than 13," and it 
 suits the context better. 
 
 62. Ancientry. Old people. Qi. Much Ado, ii. I. 80: "full of state 
 and ancientry;" and see note in our ed. p. 129. 
 
 63, Boiled brains. "Hot-headed fellows" (Schmidt). Cf. Temp. v. i. 
 
 60 : 
 
 "A solemn air and the best comforter 
 To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains, 
 Now useless, boil'd within thy skull!" 
 
 and M. N. D.v. 1.4 : " Lovers and madmen have such seething brains." 
 
 67. Broivsing of ivy. In Greene's novel, the shepherd goes to the sea- 
 shore, " to see if perchance the sheepe was bronzing on the sea-ivy, where- 
 on they doe greatly feed." 
 
 68. A barne. A child (Scottish bairn). See Much Ado, p. 150. 
 
 69. A boy or a child. According to Halliwell's Archaic Diet, the word 
 child=^\x\ in the Devonshire dialect; and this is confirmed by a corre- 
 spondent of Knight's, who says that it is still used by the peasantry in 
 parts of Somerset as well as Devon. W. reads " a god or a child," and 
 quotes Greene's novel, where it is said that the shepherd, " who before 
 had never scene so faire a babe nor so riche jewels, thought assuredly 
 that it was soi7ie little god,'''' but when it began to cry, "knew it was a 
 childe:' 
 
 70. Scape. See Ham. p. 188, or Wb. s. v. 
 
 79. Betivixt the firmatnent, etc. Cf. 0th. ii. 1.2: 
 
 "it is a high-wrought flood; 
 I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main. 
 Descry a sail." 
 
 86. Yest. Foam; used by S. only here. Cf. Macb. iv. i. 53 : " the yesty 
 waves," etc. 
 
 91. Flap-dragoned it. Swallowed it like -^flap-dragon — " a small com- 
 bustible body [an almond, plum, or raisin] set on fire and put afloat in a 
 glass of liquor, to be swallowed flaming " (Schmidt). See L. L.L. v. i. 
 45 and 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 267. 
 
 99. The old man. Changed by Theo. to "the nobleman." See p. 18 
 above. Malone suggests that the word old may have been dropped by 
 the folio printer from the Clown's description; or, as Steevens says, the 
 shepherd may have inferred the age of Antigonus from his inability to de- 
 fend himself. 
 
 loi. Ship side. Collier reads "ship's side ;" but see 0th. p. 155, note 
 on Oath sake. 
 
 103. Heavy matters! Sad business ! For look thee, cf. T.of A. iv. 3. 
 530, etc. Gr. 212. 
 
ACT IV. SCEA^E I. i8i 
 
 io6. Bearing-doth. " The fine mantle or cloth with which a child is 
 usually covered when it is carried to the church to be baptized'' (Percy). 
 
 1 08. Changeli7ig. A child left by the fairies in exchange for one stolen 
 by them. See M. N. D. p. 138. 
 
 1 10. Made. The folios have " mad ;" corrected by Theo. Cf. M. A\ D. 
 iv. 2. 18 : " we had all been made men ;" 0th. i. 2. 51 : " he 's made for- 
 ever," etc. Farmer remarks that the word is taken from Greene's novel : 
 " The good man desired his wife to be quiet : if she would hold peace, 
 they were made for ever." 
 
 {\2,. N'ext. Nearest ; as in I Hen. IV. iii. i. 264, etc. We still speak 
 of " the next village " {A. Y.L. iii, 3. 44), " the next room " {Rich. III. i. 4. 
 161), etc. 
 
 118. Ctirst. Mischievous, or savage. Cf. V. and A. 887: "Finding 
 their enemy [the boar] to be so curst ;" Much Ado, ii. i. 22 : " a curst 
 cow," etc. See also M. N. D. p. 167. 
 
 125. We '// do good deeds on 'A " Not only does S. here record the 
 strong feeling of reverence for the rights of sepulture among the poor, but 
 he takes occasion to inculcate a lovely lesson of simple piety and moral- 
 ity — that the truest celebration of a piece of good fortune is to perform 
 some good act in token of gratitude " (Clarke). 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. — In the folios this is made the first scene of the fourth act, as 
 here. Theo. placed it between the two acts as an interlude ; Warb. and 
 Johnson put it at the end of the third act ; though the latter, who appar- 
 ently did not refer to the folios, remarks that it " rather begins the fourth 
 act than concludes the third." 
 
 W. suspects that S. did not write the speech. He says : " There could 
 hardly be greater diff"erence in style than that between Time's speech as 
 Chorus and the rest of the verse in this play. The former is direct, sim- 
 ple, composed of the commonest words used in their commonest signifi- 
 cation, but bald and tame, and in its versification very constrained and 
 ungraceful ; the latter is involved, parenthetical, having a vocabulary of 
 its own, but rich in beauties of thought and expression, and entirely un- 
 trammelled by the form in which it is written." He goes on to compare 
 the speech with the Epilogue to Temp, and the Prologue to Hen. VIII., 
 which he believes to be " from the same pen, and that not Shakespeare's." 
 All three he is inclined to ascribe to Chapman. 
 
 It seems to us that, not only the style of the speech, but its being in 
 rhyme, may lead us to doubt whether S. wrote it. We can hardly believe 
 it is from the same hand as the magnificent choruses in Hen. V., which 
 show how the poet did things of that kind when he chose to do them. 
 If he wrote this one, it must have been in some uninspired moment after 
 the rest of the play was finished — possibly at the request of some man- 
 ager who thought the gap in the action should be bridged over in that 
 way. 
 
1 82 NOTES. 
 
 6. Sixteen years. S'teevens shows that such violations of dramatic uni- 
 ty were not uncommon in the plays of the time. For example, Lyly, in 
 his Endyniion, has an interval of forty years between two acts. Whet- 
 stone, in the dedication of his Piomos and Cassandra, 1579, says : "The 
 Englishman, in this quallitie, is most vaine, indiscreete, and out of order. 
 He first grounds his worke on impossibilities : then in three houres 
 ronnes he throwe the worlde : marryes, gets children, makes children 
 men, men to conquer kingdomes, murder monsters," etc. 
 
 The growth untried— t\i& progress unconsidered, or " unattempted " 
 (cf, Milton, P. L. i. 16) in the play. 
 
 8. One self-born. One and the same. The hyphen is in the early eds., 
 but Schmidt objects to it as unintelligible. 
 
 14. Glistering. See on iii. 2. 168 above. 
 
 15. Now seefns to it. That is, seems stale to this present. 
 17. As. As if. Gr. 107. 
 
 Leontes leaving, etc. The ist folio prints the passage thus : 
 
 " Leonies leauing 
 Th' efifects of his fond iealousies, so greening 
 That he shuts vp himselfe. Imagine me 
 (Gentle Spectators) that I now may be 
 In faire Bohemia, and remember well, 
 I mentioned a sonne o' th' Kings, which Florizell 
 I now name to you: and with speed so pace 
 To speake of Perdita, now growne in grace 
 Equall with wond'ring." 
 
 W. and some other editors retain this pointing in the first three lines, 
 merely changing the period after himself Xo a com.ma, as the later folios 
 do. St. was the first to put the comma after Leontes, and make the next 
 clause parenthetical. He is followed by the Camb. editors, D., Clarke, 
 Delius, and others. 
 
 19. Imagijie me. That is, with me, or for me. Cf. L. L. L. i. i. 80 : 
 " Study me how to please the eye," etc. Gr. 220. 
 
 22. 1 i?iention''d. The ist folio (see above) has "mentioned ;" the later 
 folios, "I mention here." Hanmer substituted "There is;" and Pope, 
 as usual, "corrected" which to "whom." 
 
 25. Wondering. Admiration. Cf. Sonn. 106. 14 : " Have eyes to won- 
 der, but lack tongues to praise," etc. 
 
 26. I list not prophesy. I do not choose to predict. For the omis- 
 sion of to, see Gr. 349. 
 
 28. To her adheres. Pertains to her, concerns her. 
 
 29. Argument. Subject, theme. See M. N. D. p. 166, and cf. Ham. 
 p. 207. 
 
 Of this «//^w-~permit this (Schmidt). Malone makes a//i77£/ = approve. 
 
 Scene II. — 4. Fifteen. Changed by Hanmer to "sixteen," to con- 
 form to iv. I. 6 ; but S. is not always consistent in these matters. 
 
 5. Been aired. Schmidt makes this=been led forth, led about. It 
 seems rather to be = ]ived, breathed the air, or been in the air — in dis- 
 tinction from being in the grave, which, as Polonius says {Ham. ii. 2. 210), 
 "is out o' the air." 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 183 
 
 8. Cerween. Presume, or have the presumption, Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 
 144 ; " my heart o'erweens too much," etc. 
 
 12. Want. Be without, as in M. N. D. \\. i. loi : " The human mortals 
 want their winter here," etc. 
 
 17. Friendships. Friendly services. Cf. M. of V. i. 3. 169 : " I extend 
 this friendship," etc. 
 
 22. Are. See on ii. 3. 20 above. Gr. 412. 
 
 25. Approved. Proved, as often. See Ham. p. 171. 
 
 28. Missingly. Apparently = from missing him; that is, my missing 
 him has led me to note his frequent absence. Steevens explains it as " at 
 intervals," and Schmidt "with regret." 
 
 29. Frequent to. Addicted to, or attentive to. S. uses the adjective 
 only here and in So7tn. 117. 4, where it is = conversant, intimate. 
 
 33. look npoft his removedness. Watch him in his absence. 
 
 36. Is grozvn into an nnspeakable estate. Has become surprisingly rich. 
 
 39. N'ote. Notoriety, fame. 
 
 41. But, I fear, the angle, etc. But, I fear, it is the attraction, etc. The 
 use of but seems at first peculiar, and Theo. substituted and ; but no 
 change is absolutely required. It may be one of those cases in which the 
 conjunction refers to something implied rather than expressed. Camillo 
 refers to the reports of the daughter's beauty merely as an additional bit 
 of intelligence, apparently not connecting it with Florizel's visits to the 
 cottage ; Polixenes, perceiving this by his tone and manner, says in sub- 
 stance, " I, too, have heard of the pretty daughter, bnt [to me it isn't a fact 
 without significance, for] I fear she is the attraction that draws my son 
 thither." Some editors read, "but I fear the angle," etc. The folio, how- 
 ever, has "but (I feare) the Angle," etc. 
 
 On angle, see Ham. p. 269, and cf. the verb in i. 2. 180 above and v. 2. 
 79 below. Clarke suspects an allusion to Pope Gregory's pun on Angli 
 and Angeli (see M. of V. p. 144, note on InsaUp\l upon), but this is more 
 than doubtful. 
 
 Plucks, as we have elsewhere noticed [Ham. p. 255 and T. N. p. 168), 
 is a pet word with S. 
 
 OA- Q^i^^tion. Talk, conversation. See ^. F. Z. p. 178. 
 
 45. Uneasy. Difficult, 7tot easy. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 451 : 
 
 "but this swift business 
 I must uneasy make, lest too light winning 
 Make the prize light." 
 
 It is curious that the word has become obsolete in this sense, though it is 
 still the negative of the other sense oi easy (= comfortable). Cf. 2 Hen. 
 IV. iii. I. ID : " Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee ;" and Id. iii. i. 31 : 
 " Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." The word occurs in S. only 
 these four times. 
 
 Scene III.— i. Daffodils. Schmidt says that the poet's daffodil is 
 " probably the snowdrop," but according "to EUacombe {^Plant-lore of 
 Shaks.) it is the wild daffodil of England (^Narcissus pseudo- Narcissus), the 
 only species except N. biflorus which is native to the country, though 
 
1 84 NOTES. 
 
 many others had been introduced from other parts of Europe before the 
 time of S. 
 
 Peer. Appear ; as in iv. 4. 3 below. 
 
 2. Doxy. A cant word = mistress ; used by S. only here. Cf. The 
 Roaring Girl: "Sirrah, where 's your doxy?" Coles translates it by 
 meretrix. 
 
 4. Pale. Paleness ; with possibly a play upon the other sense =bound, 
 limit, Cf. V. and A. 589 : " a sudden pale . . . Usurps her cheek." 
 
 7. Pugging. Thievish ; another cant word. In The Roaring Girl we 
 find " puggards " =thieves. 
 
 II. Annts. Equivalent to rt'l^xjj/ above. See examples in Nares. 
 
 13. Three-pile. Rich velvet. It is used as a proper name in M. 
 for M. iv. 3. 11: "Master Three-pile, the mercer." Steevens quotes 
 Ram Alley, 161 1 : "With black, crimson, and tawny three -pil'd vel- 
 vet." 
 
 23. My traffic, etc. " Autolycus means that his practice was to steal 
 sheets and large pieces of linen, leaving the smaller pieces for the kites to 
 build with" (Mason). These birds are said to carry off small articles of 
 linen from the hedges where they are hung to dry, and to use them to line 
 their nests. 
 
 25. Under Mercury. In the old mythology, Autolycus was a noted 
 thief, son of Mercury^ the god of thieving. 
 
 26. With die and drab, etc. By dicing and drabbing I was brought to 
 "these rags" (49 below). 
 
 27. The silly cheat. " Petty thievery " (Schmidt) ; an expression taken 
 from the slang of thieves. For silly — ^oox, petty, cf i Hen. VI. ii. 3. 22 : 
 " a child, a silly dwarf," etc. 
 
 Gallows and knock, etc. This is in the same vein. He means that the 
 risk of the gallows, as well as of the resistance of his victims, deters him 
 from highway robbery. 
 
 29. 1 sleep out the thought of it " Exquisitely characteristic of this care- 
 less, merry rascal ; and too true, alas ! of thousands of untaught ragamuf- 
 fins, whose ignorance is more their hardship than their fault" (Clarke). 
 Coleridge remarks : " Fine as this is, and delicately characteristic of one 
 who had lived and been reared in the best society, and had been precipi- 
 tated from it by dice and drabbing, yet still it strikes against my feelings 
 as a note out of tune, and as not coalescing with that pastoral tint which 
 gives such a charm to this act. It is too Macbeth-like in the ' snapper-up 
 of unconsidered trifles.' " 
 
 31. Every Ueven wether tods. Every eleven wethers yields a tod, or 
 twenty-eight pounds of wool. 
 
 32. Pound and odd shillijig. Twenty-one shillings. Ritson cites Staf- 
 ford's Breefe Conceipte of English Pollicye, 1581, from which it appears 
 that the tod of wool was then worth from twenty to twenty-two shillings. 
 The occupation of his father (see M. of V. p. 9) doubtless made the poet 
 familiar with these matters. 
 
 34. Springe. Snare. Cf Ham. i. 3. 115: "springes to catch wood- 
 cocks." Cock here=woodcock, a proverbial metaphor for a simpleton. 
 See Ham. p. 191. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 185 
 
 35. Cotinters. Round pieces of metal used in reckoning. See A. K Z. 
 p. 164; and cf. 0th. p. 156, note on Cotinter-caster. 
 
 36. Sheep-shearing feast. The expense of these festivals was the sub- 
 ject of contemporary criticism. Steevens quotes Questions of profitable 
 and pleasant Concernings, etc., 1594: "If it be a sheep-shearing feast, 
 maister Baily can entertaine you with his bill of reckonings to his mais- 
 ter of three shepheards wages, spent on fresh cates, besides spices and 
 saffron pottage." 
 
 Pound. For the plural, see Rich. II. p. 182. 
 
 39. Lays it on. Cf Temp. iii. 2. 160 : " he lays it on." 
 
 40. Three-man soitgmen. Singers of catches (see T.N. p. 136) in three 
 parts. Halliwell, among many illustrations of the expression, cites De- 
 loney, Pleasant Hist, of the Gentle Craft, 1598 : "play on the flute and 
 beare his part in a three-mans song ;" Harrington, Poems : 
 
 "When these triumvirs set that three-man's song. 
 Which stablished in Rome that hellish trinity, 
 That all the towne and all the world did wrong ;" 
 
 and Coryat, Crt/dities, 161 1: "That looks asquint upon a three-mans 
 song." 
 
 41. Means. Tenors. Cf T. G. of V. i. 2. 95 : "The mean is drown'd 
 with your unruly base ;" and Z. Z. Z. v. 2. 328 : 
 
 " nay, he can sing 
 A mean most meanly," etc. 
 
 Puritan. On contemptuous allusions to the Puritans, see T. N. p. 139. 
 
 43. Warden pies. Pies made of ivardens, a kind of large pears. They 
 were usually baked or roasted. Steevens quotes B. and F., Cnpid's Re- 
 
 ^ ' "I would have had him roasted like a warden, 
 
 In brown paper." 
 
 Ben Jonson puns upon the word in his Gypsies Metamorphosed : " A dep- 
 uty tart, a church-warden pye." Halliwell adds another capital example 
 from Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials : " Quimby, a fellow of the college, 
 was imprisoned very strictly in the steeple of New College, and half 
 starved with cold and lack of food, and at length died. He was asked 
 of his friends what he would eat, who said his stomach was gone for all 
 meat, except it were a warden pie. Ye shall have it, quoth they. I 
 would have, said he again, but two wardens baked : I mean our warden 
 of Oxford and our warden of Winchester — London and More ; for such 
 a warden pie might do me and the church good ; whereas other wardens 
 of the tree can do ine no good at all. Thus jesting at their tyranny 
 through the cheerfulness of a safe conscience, he turned his face to the 
 wall in the belfry where he lay, and after his prayers, slept sweetly in 
 the Lord." 
 
 44. ^^^'^=list (Schmidt). W. explains oitt of my note as " not among 
 the matters of which I am to take note ;" and adds : " S. would not have 
 represented a clown in his day reading ; and manuscript, too. Had he 
 done so, a shout of laughter, not with hmi but at him, would have gone up 
 from even the penny-paying part [see Ham. p. 220, note on Groundlings'\ 
 of his audience." There is something in this ; but cf. T. N. v. i. 299. 
 
1 86 NOTES. 
 
 45. Race. Root. In i Hen. IV. ii. i. 27, we find " two razes of gin- 
 ger ;" but it is doubtful whether razes is the same word. 
 
 46. Raisins 0' the sun. That is, dried in the sun ; the only mention of 
 raisins in S., though some see a play upon the word and reasons in Much 
 Ado, V. I. 211. See our ed. p. 166 ; and cf. the play on beat and bait in 
 ii. 3. 91 above. 
 
 48. /' the name of me. Cf before met in 7^. TV! ii. 3. 194 and 0th, iv. 
 I. 149. Theo. conjectured " name of the — ;" and some one has sug- 
 gested that me — is an interrupted " mercy." 
 
 78. Kills my heart. Cf L. L. L. v. 2. 149 : " Why, that contempt will 
 kill the speaker's heart ;" IIe?i. V. ii. i. 92 : " the king hath killed his 
 heart," etc. In A. Y. L. iii. 2. 60 we have a play upon the expression. 
 
 83. Troll -my -dames. A corruption of the Fr. trou-7?iada??ie, the name 
 of a game resembling the modern bagatelle. It was also known as pigeon- 
 holes. Farmer quotes Dr. Jones's Btickstone Bathes: "The ladyes, gen- 
 tle woomen, wyves, maydes, if the weather be not agreeable, may have 
 in the ende of a benche, eleven holes made, intoo the which to troule pum- 
 mits, either wyolent or softe, after their own discretion : the pastyme 
 troule in madame is termed." 
 
 88. Mo viore but abide. Only make a temporary stay. Abide seems 
 here to imply a transient residence, stay a permanent one. Cf Macb. 
 iii. I. 140: "I '11 call upon you straight: abide within," etc. Some 
 make no more (5//z'= barely. 
 
 90. Ape-bearer. One who carried about a trained ape as a show. 
 
 91. Compassed a motion. Got possession of a puppet-show. Yox co?ji- 
 passed, see IIe7^. V. p. 176 ; and for motion, cf T. G. of V. ii. I. 100 : " O 
 excellent motion ! O exceeding puppet !" See also Rani Alley : 
 
 " She 'd get more gold 
 Than all the baboons, calves with two tails. 
 Or motions whatsoever ;' ' 
 
 and Knave in Graine, 1640, where one of the characters asks, " Where 's 
 the dumbe shew you promis'd me.?" and the reply is, "Even ready, my 
 lord ; but may be called a motion ; for puppits will speak but such cor- 
 rupt language you'll never understand." 
 
 95. Prig. Thief; a slang word still in use. 
 
 105. Pace softly. Walk along slowly. 
 
 107. Bring thee. Accompany thee. See Hen. V. p. 158. 
 
 115. Unrolled. Struck off the roll of thieves. The Coll. MS. has 
 " enrolled." 
 
 116. Jog on, etc. The lines are part of a catch in An Antidote against 
 Mela7icholy, jnade up iji Pills compounded of witty Ballads, Jovial Songs, 
 and merry Catches (Reed). 
 
 117. Hent. Take (literally, lay hold of), clear, pass. CL M.for M. 
 iv. 6. 14 : 
 
 "The generous and gravest citizens 
 Have hent the gates" 
 
 (that is, gone bevond or outside them). For the noun hent, see Ha77i. 
 p. 234. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 187 
 
 Scene IV. — i. Weeds. Garments. See M. N. D. p. 149. 
 3. Peering. See on iv. 3. i above. 
 
 5. On V. Cf. i. 2. 196, ii. i. 158, etc., above. 
 
 6. Extreines. Johnson makes this = " the extravagance of your praises." 
 Mason objects to this, and explains it as "the extravagance of his con- 
 duct," in dressing himself like a swain and her like a goddess. In our 
 opinion, both are right. 
 
 It not becomes me. Cf. 401 below : " I not acquaint My father ;" and 
 461 : " I not purpose it." Gr. 305. 
 
 8. The gracious mark, etc. " The object of the nation's pride and 
 hope " (Clarke). 
 
 9. Wearing. Dress ; as in 0th. iv. 3. 16 : "my nightly wearing." 
 \o. Prank' d np. Dressed up, adorned. See 7". A", p. 141. 
 
 11. Mess. See on i. 2. 217 above. 
 
 12. With a custom. From habit, because they are used to it. 
 
 13. Sworn, I thi7ik, etc. This appears to mean, as Malone explained 
 it, that the prince, by his swain's wearing, seems as if he had sworn to 
 show her a glass in which she might behold how she ought to be attired 
 instead of being so pranked up. Cf. J. C. i. 2. 67 : 
 
 "And since you know you cannot see yourself 
 So well as by reflection, I, your glass, 
 Will modestly discover to yourself 
 That of yourself which you yet know not of ;' ' 
 
 and 2 Hen. IV. ii. 3. 22 : 
 
 " he was indeed the glass 
 Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves." 
 
 Malone cites this latter passage as "in Hamlet,''' from which play he 
 might have quoted iii. 4. 19 : 
 
 " You go not till I set you up a glass 
 Where you may see the inmost part of you." 
 
 Theo, altered the text to 
 
 "swoon, I think. 
 To see myself i' the glass ;" 
 
 but, as Clarke remarks, szvoon "would have an affected and exagger- 
 ated sound in the mouth of Perdita, who is composed of simplicity, recti- 
 tude, and native dignity." To our thinking, the emendation is ridicu- 
 lously out of keeping with the character ; and the others that have been 
 proposed are all as bad in their way. If a tithe of the ingenuity that has 
 been expended in altering the early text had been devoted to its inter- 
 pretation, there would be little room for emendation. In nine cases out 
 of ten, the original reading of these much-tinkered passages affords a 
 clearer sense than the most plausible of the revampings. We do not 
 refer here to obvious errors in the old texts (in correcting which no edi- 
 tor has done more good work than Theo.), but to really difficult places, 
 or such as at first appear so, like the present ; passages on which almost 
 every editor has his own conjecture because no former one seems to him 
 worth adopting — any more than his will seem to other editors. 
 
 17. The differeiice forges dread. The difference between your rank and 
 mine causes me apprehension. 0\\ forges— i\2Si\t, produce, cf. A. W. i. i. 
 
1 88 NOTES. 
 
 85 : " The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts ;" Cor. iii. i. 
 58 : " What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent," etc. 
 
 22. Vilely bound up. For the figure, cf. R. and J. i. 3. 87 : "This pre- 
 cious book of love,, this unbound lover," etc. Johnson criticises the pas- 
 sage thus : " It is impossible for any man to rid his mind of his profes- 
 sion. The authorship of Shakespeare has supplied him with a metaphor, 
 which, rather than he would lose it, he has put with no great propriety 
 into the mouth of a country maid. Thinking of his own works, his mind 
 passed naturally to the binder. I am glad that he has no hint at an edi- 
 tor." It strikes us that the figure might occur to any one familiar with 
 books. 
 
 23. Flatmts. Finery; the only instance of the word, or any of its de- 
 rivatives, in S. 
 
 24. Apprehend. As Clarke notes, the word combines the idea of " fear, 
 dread," referring to the preceding speech, with that of "conceive, enter- 
 tain idea of," in connection yN\\\i jollity. 
 
 25. The gods themselves, z\.Q.. Malone cites Greene's novel : "The Gods 
 above disdaine not to love women beneath. Phoebus liked Daphne ; 
 Jupiter lo ; and why not I then Fawnia } One something inferior to 
 these in birth, but far superior to them in beauty ; born to be a shep- 
 herdesse, but worthy to be a goddesse ;" and again : " The heavenly gods 
 have sometime earthly thought ; Neptune became a ram, Apollo a shep- 
 herd : they gods, and yet in love," etc. 
 
 33. So chaste. The transformations of the gods were generally for 
 illicit amours. 
 
 40. Or I my life. That is, or I must exchange my life for death. For 
 <:/z^?;i;^^ = exchange, cf i. 2. 68 above. The word here is used in a double 
 sense, like appre he jzd ]ViSt above. 
 
 41. Forced. Either = false (cf. ii. 3. 78 above) or = far-fetched, out of 
 place. 
 
 46. Be merry, gentle. The Coll. MS. has "girl," which Coll. adopts. 
 He calls gentle " an epithet that cannot, and never did, stand alone in 
 this way, without being followed by maid, lady,'''' etc. See, however, A. 
 a7id C. iv. 15. 47 : " Gentle, hear me." 
 
 47. Strangle such thoughts. For the metaphor, cf T. and C. iv. 4. 39 : 
 " strangles our dear vows ;" Hen. VIII. v. I. 157 : 
 
 " He has strangled 
 His language in his tears," etc. 
 
 50. Nuptial. For the use of the singular, see M. N. D. p. 127, or Temp. 
 p. 143 ; and cf J. C. p. 183, note on His funerals. 
 
 51. (9 lady Forttine. Cf Temp. i. 2. 179 : 
 
 "bountiful Fortune, 
 Now my dear lady;" 
 
 A. V. L. ii. 7. 16 : " And rail'd on Lady Fortune," etc. 
 
 53. Sprightly. Adjectives in -ly are very often used as adverbs. We 
 find " sprightly walking " in Cor. iv. 5. 237, where most modern eds. read 
 " sprightly, waking." 
 .56. Pantler. The servant who had charge of the pantry. CL2Hen, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 189 
 
 IV. ii. 4, 258 : "a' would have made a good pantler, a' would have chip- 
 ped bread well." Cf. 342 in same scene, and see also Cymb.u. 3. 129. 
 
 60. On his shoulder, and his. That is, leaning" over to serve them. 
 
 61. With labour, etc. The folio points the passage thus : 
 
 "her face o' fire 
 With labour, and the thing she tooke to quench it 
 She would to each one sip." 
 
 The Camb. ed. reads : 
 
 " her face o' fire 
 With labour and the thing she took to quench it, 
 She would to each one sip;" 
 
 and most of the other eds. give it in essentially the same way. We fol- 
 low W. as being more in keeping with the context. The shepherd does 
 not mean that his wife drank so much as to increase the fire in her face ; 
 but that even when taking a draught to cool herself she did not forget 
 her duty to her guests. 
 
 65. These nnJmown friends to us. These friends unknown to us. See 
 Gr, 4i9«. 
 
 74. Rosemary and rite. For the former, as the symbol of remem- 
 brance, see Ham. p. 250 ; and for the latter, as the " herb of grace,^'' see 
 Ham. p. 251. 
 
 79. Ancient. Old. Cf "ancient sir" in 350 below, and "ancientry" 
 in iii. 3. 62 above. 
 
 82. Carnations. The only mention of the flower in S., though we 
 have the colour in L. L. L. iii. I. 146 ("a carnation ribbon") and Hen. 
 
 V. ii. 3. 35 (" a' could never abide carnation "). For the accepted deri- 
 vation of the name, see Wb. ; but the old spelling "coronation" ren- 
 ders it probable that it comes from the Latin corona, as being a favourite 
 flower for garlands. Pliny gives a long list of " coronamentorum gene- 
 ra," or kinds of garland-flowers. Cf Spenser, Shep. Kal. April : 
 
 " Bring hether the Pincke and purple Cullambine, 
 
 With Gelliflowres; 
 Bring Coronations, and Sops in wine, 
 
 Worne of Paramoures : 
 Strowe me the ground with Daffadowndillies, 
 And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and loved Lillies: 
 
 The pretie Pawnee, 
 
 And the Chevisaunce, 
 Shall match with the fay re flowre Delice." 
 
 In Lyte's Herbal, 1578, we also find "coronations or cornations." 
 
 Gillyvors. The folio spells it " Gilly-vors ;" and other old forms (see 
 Wb.) 2irQ gilover ^nd gilofer. The word is from the Yx. giroflee, and is 
 not a compound oi flower. It was only another name for the carnation, 
 or a variety of that flower ; and " sops-in-wine " (see quotation from 
 Spenser above) was another, from the use of the flowers for flavouring 
 wine and beer. 
 
 86. For. Because ; as in iii. 3. 32 above. Douce explains Perdita's dis- 
 like for the flower as follows : " The gillyflower or carnation is streaked, 
 as every one knows, with white and red. In this respect it is a proper 
 emblem oi 2^ painted or immodest woman ; and therefore Perdita declines 
 
I90 NOTES. 
 
 to meddle with it. Slie connects the gardener's art of varying the col- 
 ours of the flowers with the art of painting the face, a fashion very prev- 
 alent in Shakespeare's time. This conclusion is justified by what she 
 says in her next speech but one." 
 
 ^'j. Piedness. Variegation. CLpied in L. L. L. v. 2. 904 : " when daisies 
 pied and violets blue," etc. 
 
 89. Mean. For the singular, see R. and J. p. 189. 
 
 92. Yoit see, sweet maid, we marry, etc. Shakespeare was evidently a 
 good gardener, and we doubt not that his grounds at New Place were as 
 well kept as they are now that they have been rescued from their long 
 desecration and made one of the most attractive spots in Stratford^ — 
 though we wish that the gardening were in the style of his time rather 
 than of our own. 
 
 Ellacombe remarks : " There are a great many passages scattered 
 throughout his works, some of them among the most beautiful that he 
 ever wrote, in which no particular tree, herb, or flower is mentioned by 
 name, but which show his intimate knowledge of plants and gardening, 
 and his great affection for them. It is from these passages, even more 
 than from those in which particular flowers are named, that we learn 
 how thoroughly his early country life had permanently marked his char- 
 acter, and how his whole spirit was most naturally coloured by it. Num- 
 berless allusions to flowers and their culture prove that his boyhood and 
 early manhood were spent in the country, and that as he passed through 
 the parks, fields, and lanes of his native county, or spent pleasant days 
 in the gardens and orchards of the manor-houses and farm-houses of the 
 neighbourhood, his eyes and ears were open to all the sights and sounds 
 of a healthy country life, and he was, perhaps unconsciously, laying up 
 in his memory a goodly store of pleasant pictures and homely country 
 talk, to be introduced in his own wonderful way in tragedies and come- 
 dies, which, while often professedly treating of very different times and 
 countries, have really given us some of the most faithful pictures of the 
 country life of the Englishman of Queen Elizabeth's time, drawn with all 
 the freshness and simplicity that can only come from a real love of the 
 subject. ' Flowers I noted,' is his own account of himself [Sonn. 99), 
 and with what love he noted them, and with what careful fidelity he wrote 
 of them, is shown in every play he published, and almost in every act and 
 every scene. His general descriptions, like his notices of particular 
 flowers, are never laboured, or introduced as for a purpose, but each 
 passage is the simple utterance of his ingrained love of the country, the 
 natural outcome of a keen, observant eye, joined to a great power of 
 faithful description and an unlimited command of the fittest language. 
 It is this vividness and freshness that give such a reality to all Shake- 
 speare's notices of country life, and which make them such pleasant 
 reading to all lovers of plants and gardening." 
 
 For the allusion to graftmg here, cf A.W.'\. 2. 54, Hen. V. iii. 5. 5, Cor. 
 ii. I. 206, etc. 
 
 100. Dibble. An implement for piercing holes in the earth for slips or 
 young plants. 
 
 104. Lavender, tnints, and savory are mentioned by S. only here ; mar- 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. i^i 
 
 joram (the " sweet marjoram," or Origanum inarjorana, as is evident from 
 the passages in A. W. and Lea7') we find also in Sonn. 99. 7, A. W. iv. 5. 
 17, and Lear, iv. 6. 94. 
 
 105. Mai-igold. Not the sun-flower, as some have made it ; nor the 
 "marsh marigold" {Caltha pahistris),\iV\Q\\ does not open and close its 
 flowers with the sun; but probably the "garden marigold" {Calendula 
 officinalis), of which Ellacombe says : " It was always a great favourite in 
 our forefathers' gardens, and it is hard to give any reason why it should 
 not be so in ours. Yet it has been almost completely banished, but may 
 often be found in the gardens of cottages and old farm-houses, where it is 
 still prized for its bright and almost everlasting flowers (looking very 
 like a Gazania) and evergreen tuft of leaves, while the careful housewife 
 still picks and carefully stores the petals of the flowers, and uses them in 
 broths and soups, believing them to be of great efficacy, as Gerarde said 
 they were, 'to strengthen and comfort the heart.' The two properties of 
 the marigold — that it was always in flower, and that it turned its flowers 
 to the sun and followed his guidance in their opening and shutting — 
 made it a very favourite flow^er with the poets and emblem writers. . . . 
 It was the ' heliotrope ' or ' solsequium ' or ' turnesol ' of our forefathers, 
 and is often alluded to under those names." 
 
 Of the contemporary allusions to the flower, the following from With- 
 ers is a good example : 
 
 "When with a serious musing I behold 
 The grateful and obsequious Marigold, 
 How duly every morning she displays 
 Her open breast when Phoebus spreads his rays ; 
 How she observes him in his daily walk, 
 Still bending towards him her small, slender stalk ; 
 How when he down declines she droops and mourns, 
 Bedewed, as 't were, with tears till he returns ; 
 And how she veils her flowers when he is gone: 
 When this I meditate, methinks the flowers 
 Have spirits far more generous than ours, 
 And give us fair examples to despise 
 The servile fawnings and idolatries 
 Wherewith we court these earthly things below, 
 Which merit not the service we bestow." 
 
 1 10. Onf,alas! A more emphatic alas! Cf. M. ^ i. 4. 37, iv. 5. 64, 
 i?. a7id y. iv. 5. 24, 0th. v. 2. 1 19, etc. So out, alack ! in So7in. 33. 11, etc. 
 
 116. Maidenheads. Maidenhood, ^ee R.ajtd J. ^. l^^o. 
 
 Proserpina. Cf. T. and C. ii. I. 37: "thou art as full of envy at his 
 greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty," etc. 
 
 118. Dis''s waggon. Pluto's chariot. For Dis, cf. Temp. iv. I. 89 : " The 
 means that dusky Dis my daughter got," etc.; and for waggon, see the 
 description of Queen Mab's chariot in R. and J. i. 4. 59 fol. Cf. A. IV. iv. 
 4. 34, where Helena says " Our waggon is prepar'd." Halliwell quotes 
 Barnes, Divils Charter, 1607 : 
 
 "From the pale horror of eternall fire 
 Am I sent with the wagon of blacke Dis." 
 
 The description of Proserpina here is taken from Ovid, Met. v. : 
 
192 NOTES. 
 
 "lit summa vestem laxavit ab ora 
 Collecti flores tunicis cecidere remissis;" 
 
 thus translated by Golding : 
 
 "And as she from the upper part her garment would have rent, 
 By chance she let her lap slip downe, and out the flowers went." 
 
 Daffodils. See on iv. 3. i above ; and cf. the quotation from Spenser 
 in note on 82 above, where they are called " daffadowndillies." This form 
 of the name, now retained only in the language of children and their 
 classic Mother Goose, was then common in poetry. Cf. Constable's 
 
 " Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly, 
 White as the sun, fair as the lily, 
 
 Heigh ho! how I do love thee!" 
 
 To fill out the measure, Hanmer read "early daffodils." Coleridge re- 
 marks : " An epithet is wanted here, not merely or chiefly for the metre, 
 but for the balance, for the aesthetic logic. Perhaps golden was the word 
 which would set off the violets dim.'''' 
 
 120. Violets dim. The violet is alluded to so often by S. that we need 
 not refer to the passages. Dim is explained by Schmidt as " wanting 
 beauty, homely ;" which seems to make a stronger contrast than the 
 poet probably intended. The meaning is not expressed by saying that 
 the violet is homely but fragrant. It is called dim, we think, because it 
 is not a brilliant or showy flower, but " half hidden from the eye " even 
 when in full view ; and we suspect that sweeter implies both loveliness 
 and perfume. The reference to the lids of Juno's eyes has puzzled the 
 commentators. They have even been driven to supposing that S. alluded 
 to the Oriental practice of giving the eyelids "an obscure violet colour by 
 means of some unguent, which was doubtless perfumed" — a sort of paint- 
 ing which both Perdita and he would have been disgusted at. We have 
 no doubt that the " blue-veined violets " ( V. and A. 125) are compared to 
 the lids 
 
 "white and azure lac'd 
 With blue of heaven's own tinct" {Cymb. ii. 2. 22); 
 
 for, as we have elsewhere shown {R. and J. p. 172, note on Grey eye), the 
 " windows " thus described, like those in V. and A. 482, are the eyelids, not 
 the eyes. The violets, Perdita says, are lovelier than the lids of Juno's 
 eyes and more fragrant than Cytherea's breath. For two pages of irrel- 
 evant comment on the passage, see the Var. of 1821. The critics have 
 picked the exquisite simile to pieces, like botanists analyzing a flower, 
 but have not got at the secret of its beauty and sweetness. 
 
 For Cytherea, cf. the charming " picture " in T. of S. ind. 2. 52 : 
 
 "Adonis painted by a running brook, 
 And Cytherea all in sedges hid, 
 Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, 
 Even as the waving sedges play with wind." 
 
 See also Cymb. ii. 2. 14. 
 
 122. Pale primroses. Cf. 2 Hen. F7. iii. 2. 63 : "Look pale as prim- 
 rose, with blood-drinking sighs " (see M. N. D. p. 163, note on That costs 
 the fresh blood dear) ; and Cymb. iv. 2. 221 : " The flower that 's like thy 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. ic,^ 
 
 face, pale piimrose." On the next two lines, cf. Milton, Lycidas, 142 : 
 "Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies;" and Oji the Death of a 
 Fair Infajit : 
 
 " O fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
 Soft silken Primrose fading timelessly, 
 Summer's chief honour if thou hadst outlasted 
 Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossoms dry." 
 
 125. Bold oxlips. Hanmer changed boldio " gold ;" but Steevens says, 
 " The oxHp has not a weak flexible stem like the cotoslip, but erects itself 
 boldly in the face of the sun." See M. N. D. p. 149, note on Oxlips. 
 
 126. The croivn imperial. TYxt Fritillaria i7)iperialis ; a native of the 
 East, but early introduced from Constantinople into England, where it 
 soon became a favourite. Chapman, in 1595, spoke of it as " Fair Crown 
 Imperial, Emperor of flowers." Cf Va.x\6\-\?,o\\, Faradisiis Terrestris : 
 "The Crown Imperial for its stately beautifulnesse deserveth the first 
 place in this our garden of delight, to be here entreated of before all other 
 Lillies." Gerard thus describes a peculiarity of the flower : " In the bot- 
 tome of each of the bells there is placed six drops of most cleere shining 
 sweet water, in taste like sugar, resembling in shew faire Orient pearles, 
 the which drops, if you take away, there do immediately appeare the like ; 
 notwithstanding, if they may be suffered to stand still in the floure accord- 
 ing to his owne nature, they will never fall away, no, not if you strike the 
 plant untill it be broken." Ellacombe adds : " There is a pretty German 
 legend vyhich tells how the flower was originally white and erect, and 
 grew in its full beauty in the garden of Gethsemane, where it was often 
 noticed and admired by our Lord ; but in the night of the agony, as he 
 passed through the garden, all the other flowers bowed their heads in 
 sorrowful adoration, the Crown Imperial alone remaining with its head 
 unbowed — but not for long ; sorrow and shame took the place of pride, 
 she bent her proud head, and blushes of shame and tears of sorrow soon 
 followed, and so she has ever continued, with bent head, blushing colour, 
 and ever-flowing tears." The legend may be found in full in Good Words 
 for the Yotmg,h.\x<g. 1870. 
 
 127. The fioiver-de-hice. d. IIen.V.v.2.22^: " What sayest thou, my 
 fair flower-de-luce V See also i Hen. VI. i. i. 80, i. 2. 99, and 2 Hen. VI. 
 V. I. II. It is disputed whether the poet's flower here is a lily or an iris. 
 Ellacombe quotes St. Francis de Sales (contemporary with S.), who says : 
 " Charity comprehends the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, and resem- 
 bles a beautiful flower de-luce, which has six leaves whiter than snow, 
 and in the middle the pretty little golden hammers ;" a description which 
 better fits the white lily than the iris. So Chaucer seems to connect the 
 flower with the lily : " Her nekke was white as the Flour de Lis." On 
 the other hand, see the quotation from Spenser in note on 82 above, 
 where he seems to separate the lilies from the " flowre Delice." See also 
 Bacon, Ess. 46 : " Flower Delices, & Lillies of all Natures." In heraldry 
 also, the fleur-de-lis and the lily are distinct bearings. The botanical 
 writers, from Turner (1568) down to Miller (1731), also identify the flow- 
 er with the iris, and with this judgment most of the recent writei's agree. 
 That S. should class it among the lilies need not trouble us, for botanidal 
 
 N 
 
194 NOTES. 
 
 classification was not very accurate in his day, and he does not appear to 
 have had a scientific knowledge of the subject. 
 
 129. Corse. S. uses both corse and corpse (see v. i. 58 below), though 
 the former more frequently. 
 
 132. Quick, and in mine arms. For quick ---2\\\^, see Hen. V. p. 156 or 
 Ham. p. 262. On the passage, cf. Per. v. 3. 43 : 
 
 " O come, be buried 
 A second time within these arms ;"' 
 
 and see Much Ado, p. 144, note on Face upwards. 
 
 134. Whitsun pastorals. Cf. Hen. V. ii. 4. 25 : "a Whitsun morris- 
 dance." For a full account of Whitsunday sports and festivities in 
 the olden time, see Douce's Illustrations or Brande's Popular Antiqui- 
 ties. 
 
 142. Move still, still so. "The iteration oi still in the peculiar way that 
 S. has used it conjoinedly with the two monosyllables tnove and jc", gives 
 the musical cadence, the alternate rise and fall, the to-and-fro undulation of 
 the water — the swing of the wave — with an eff"ect upon the ear that only 
 a poet gifted with a fine perception would have thought of" (Clarke). 
 
 143. Each your doing, etc. Your manner in each act, so unparalleled in 
 each particular, crowns the act, so that it becomes queenly._ For queens, 
 Sr. reads " queen's " = a queen's acts ; but the original reading carries out 
 the bold metaphor more consistently. The acts are crowned, and them- 
 selves become qtieens. 
 
 148. So fairly. The 1st and 2d folios read " peepes fairely through 't," 
 the later ones changing "peepes" to "peeps." Capell inserted the so, 
 which is nearer to the original than Hannier's "forth." St. conjectures 
 " through it fairly peeps," and the " Globe " ed. has " peepeth." 
 
 149. Give you out. Shows you ; as in T. N. iii. 4. 203 : "the behaviour 
 of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity," etc. 
 
 152. Skill. " Reason, motive ; or rather a thought caused by consid- 
 eration and judgment " (Schmidt). Halliwell quotes Warner, Albiojts 
 England, 1606: " Our Queene deceast conceald her heire, I wot not for 
 what skill." Clarke thinks skill is -design, intention. Cf. ii. i. 155 
 above. 
 
 153. To put you to '/. See on i. 2. 16 above. 
 
 154. Turtles. Turtle doves ; the only meaning of the word in S. Cf. 
 V. 3. 132 below. 
 
 156. This is, etc. See p. 20 above. 
 
 157. Seems. The Coll. MS. has "says," which W. adopts; but no 
 change is called for. Nothing she does or seems— \\o\\\m% in her actions 
 or her appearance. 
 
 160. Makes her blood look out. That is, makes her blush. Cf 148 
 above. The folios have "look on 't ;" corrected by Theo. The Coll. 
 MS. gives " wakes her blood ; look on 't." 
 
 Good sooth. In good sooth, in very truth. Cf. sooth in 336 below; and 
 see M.N. D. p. 153. 
 
 162. Garlic. Cf. M. N. D. iv. 2. 43 : "And, most dear actors, eat no 
 onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath," etc. 
 
AC 2^ IV. SCEATE IV. ic^^ 
 
 163. In good time. As Schmidt notes, equivalent to the Fr. a la bonne 
 heui-e, and used either to denote simple assent or, as here, to express con- 
 tempt or indignation. Cf. Ot/i. i. i. 32 : " He, in good time, must his 
 lieutenant be," etc. 
 
 168. Ajid boasts. Rowe gave "and he^ boasts," and Capell "he 
 boasts ;" but the ellipsis is not uncommon. See Gr. 399. 
 
 169. But I have it, etc. Abbott (Gr. 128) says that htt is perhaps^: 
 " only ;" that is, " I have it merely on his own report, and I believe it too." 
 " I but have it" and " I have it but" have been proposed as emendations. 
 It seems to us, however, that with this sense of but it would be more 
 natural to say "■ bnt I believe it." W. says : "The word here seems not 
 to be the but ((^^-w//) = except ; it is rather the but (from botan — to super- 
 add) which is nearly equivalent to and, and which of old was much used 
 where we would now use that conjunction." But, as Wedgwood remarks, 
 this distinction of Home Tooke's between the two bnts^is "wholly un- 
 tenable." It is also rejected by Prof Mahn in Wb., and by Skeat in his 
 new Etymological Diet. We may perhaps explain the but here by taking 
 the words that follow as an emphatic addition to what precedes : he 
 boasts that he has a good farm ; but as I have his word for it I believe 
 him, for he looks truthful. Or we may say it is one of those cases in 
 which an intermediate thought is " understood " but not expressed : he 
 boasts of his farm ; [a mere boast, you may say] but I have his word for 
 it, etc. See on iv. 2. 41 above. 
 
 A worthy feeding — a valuable pasturage. Cf. the use of feeder = 
 shepherd, in A. Y. L. ii. 4. 99. 
 
 171. Sooth. Truth. See on 160 above, and cf, M. of V. p. 127, 
 
 175. Who loves another. Which loves the other. See on iii. 3. 20 above. 
 
 Featly. _ Dexterously, neatly. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 380 : " Foot it featly ;" and 
 see note in our ed. p. 120. 
 
 180. Not. For the transposition, cf 401 and 461 below, Gr. 305, 
 
 184. Tell. Count. See Temp. p. 123. 
 
 191, Milliner. " In the time of our author, and long afterwards, the 
 trade of a milliner was carried on by men " (Malone). Cf. i Hen. IV. i. 
 3. 36: " He was perfumed like a milliner." 
 
 193. Dildos. A common word in the burden of old ballads. Steevens 
 cites one entitled The Batchelor's Feast: " With a hie dildo dill ;" and 
 Malone adds from Choice Drollery, 1656: 
 
 " With a dildo, dildo, dildo. 
 With a dildo, dildo, dee." 
 
 Fading (mentioned by B. J. as an Irish dance) was similarly used ; as in 
 a song quoted by Malone : " With a fading, with a fading," etc. 
 
 194. Stretch-mouthed. Open-mouthed, broad-spoken. 
 
 195. Gap. The Coll. MS. has "jape " (=jest), which W. adopts, with 
 the remark that the word was often spelt gape, though pronounced y^z/^. 
 But gap may be = break, or flaw. Cf. Macb. iii. i. 12 and Lear, i, 2. 91. 
 Puttenham, in his Arte of Poesie, uses the word for "parenthesis," 
 
 196. W/ioop, do me no hai'm,good man. The name of an old song. In 
 the Hist, of Friar Bacon, we have a ballad to the tune of" Oh ! do me no 
 harme, good man " (Farmer). 
 
196 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 199. Brave. Fine, capital. See M.of V. p. 154. 
 
 201. Unbraided. " Perhaps=not counterfeit, sterling, but probably the 
 clown's blunder for embroidered'" (Schmidt). Bailey, in his Bict.,g\MQS 
 braided— idided ; and Steevens quotes Atiy Thing for a Quiet Life : " She 
 says that you sent ware which is not warrantable, braided ware, and that 
 you give not London measure." Bi'aid is=deceitful, in A. W. iv. 2. 73 : 
 " Since Frenchmen are so braid," etc. Halliwell quotes Marston, Scourge 
 of Villanie, sat. v.: "Glased his braided ware, cogs, sweares, and lies ;" 
 and An Iliad of Metamorphosis, 1600: 
 
 '' Books of this nature being once perused 
 Are then cast by, and as brayed ware refused." 
 
 203. Points. Tagged laces, used to fasten parts of the dress, especially 
 the breeches. See T.N. p. 128, note on If one break. Here there is a 
 play upon the word. 
 
 204. Inkles. A kind of tape. Cf Z. Z. Z. iii. 1.140: "What 's the 
 price of this inkle ?" and Per. v. prol. 8 : " Her inkle, silk, twin with the 
 rubied cherry." The word must have been still in use in England half a 
 century ago, as Nares and the Var. of 182 1 do not explain it. 
 
 Caddisses. " Worsted ribbands" (Schmidt), or what we call " galloons." 
 Cf I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 79 : " caddis-garter." Shirley, in his Witty Fair One, 
 1633, mentions "footmen in caddis;" that is, having.their liveries trim- 
 med with caddis. 
 
 207. Sleeve-band. Wristband, or cuff. Cotgrave defines Poignet de la 
 chemise as "the sleeve-band of a shirt." Toilet cites Leland, Collecta- 
 nea : " A sur-coat of crimson velvet — the coller, skirts, and sleeve-bands 
 garnished with ribbons of gold." 
 
 208. Square. Bosom. Cf Fairfax, Tasso, xii. 64 : 
 
 "Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives 
 Her curious square, emboss' d with swelling gold." 
 
 The square form of the plaiting is seen in paintings of the time. 
 
 212. You have of. You have some of, there are some of For the 
 partitive of cf A. IV. ii. 5. 50 : " I have kept of them tame," etc. See 
 also Or. 177. 
 
 214. Go about. Am going, intend. See M. N D. p. 177, and cf 683 
 below. 
 
 216. Cyprus . Crape. See T. N. p. 148, note on Cypress. ^ 
 
 217. Gloves, etc. The practice of perfuming gloves is again referred to 
 in Much Ado, iii. 4. 62 : " These gloves the count sent me ; they are an 
 excellent perfume." 
 
 219. Necklace amber, etc. Autolycus is puffing his female wares, and 
 says that he has some necklace-amber, an amber of which necklaces were 
 made, commonly called bead-amber, fit to perfume a lady's chamber. 
 Milton alludes to the perfume of amber in S. A. 720: "An amber scent 
 of odorous perfume" (T. Warton). 
 
 221. Quoifs. Caps, head-dresses. Cf 2 Hen. IV. i. i. 147: "and 
 hence, thou sickly quoif!" 
 
 223. Poking- sticks. These were small rods which were heated and 
 used for adjusting the plaits of ruffs, etc. Steevens cites, among other 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. icjy 
 
 references to them, Middleton's Bhirt Master Constable, 1602: "Your 
 ruff must stand in print, and for that purpose get poking-sticks with fair 
 long handles, lest they scorch your hands." Stubbes, in his Anatomie of 
 Abuses, describes them as "made of yron and Steele, and some of brasse, 
 kept as bright as silver, yea some of silver itselfe, and it is well if in proc- 
 esse of time they grow not to be of gold . . . and when they come to 
 starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this instrument be heated 
 in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe," etc. 
 
 238. Kiln-hole. The mouth of the oven (Malone and Schmidt), or the 
 opening for putting fuel under a stove or furnace (Steevens). Harris 
 says that "in the Midland counties it generally means the fire-place used 
 in making malt, and is still a noted gossiping-place." 
 
 239. Whistle off. The folio has "whistle of;" and the Coll. MS. gives 
 "whisper off." Schmidt considers -whistle the clown's blunder for " whis- 
 per." We do not see why it may not be his metaphorical use of the fal- 
 coner's whistle <?^(=send off), for which see 0th. p. 188. 
 
 240. Charm yonr tongues. Hanmer's emendation of the " clamor yonr 
 tongues" of the folios. Various other readings have been proposed, and 
 sundry awkward attempts have been made to explain the early text. For 
 charm yo7ir tongues (=:check or restrain them as by a charm or spell), see 
 0th. p. 207. _S. uses the phrase five times (not counting the present pas- 
 sage), and it is common in contemporary writers. 
 
 242. A tawdry-lace. A rustic necklace. Cf. Spenser, Shep. Kal. Apr. : 
 
 "Binde your fillets faste. 
 And gird in your waste. 
 For more finenesse, with a tawdrie lace ;" 
 
 and Fletcher, Faithful Shep. iv. i : " The primrose chaplet, tawdry lace, 
 and ring." Tawdry is a corruption of Saint Audrey, or Ethelreda, on 
 whose day (Oct. 17) a fair was held in the Isle of Ely, and probably at 
 other places, at which gay toys of all kinds were sold. Nicholas Harps- 
 field, in his Hist. Eccles. Angl., says that St. Audrey died of a swelling in 
 the throat, which she considered a special judgment for having been ad- 
 dicted to wearing fine necklaces in her youth. He describes the tawdry 
 lace thus : " Solent Angliae nostrae mulieres torquem quendam, ex tenui 
 et subtili serica confectum, collo gestare ; quam Ethelredae torquem ap- 
 pellamus, forsan in ejus quod diximus niemoriam." The word tawdjy 
 came to be used as a noun in this sense. Cf. Drayton, Polyolbion, ii. : 
 
 " Of which the Naiads and the bkie Nereids make 
 Them taudries for their necks;" 
 
 and Id. iv. : " But with white pebbles makes her taudries for her neck." 
 250. Of charge. Of importance or value. See R. and J. p. 213. 
 252. C life. "O' my life" {M.W.\. 1.40), or "on my life" (v. 1.43 
 below). The folio has "a life," and in many other passages it has the 
 same corruption ; as in R. and J. i. i. i : "A my word" (also in T of S. 
 i. 2. 108, Cor. i. 3. 62, etc.) ; R. and J. i. 3. 93 : "A plague a both the 
 Houses," etc. So the early eds. have almost always "a clock;" as in 
 Much Ado, iii. 4. 52 (ist folio) : " fine a clocke," etc. Halliwell explains 
 "a life" (or "o' life") as = as my life; and, among other examples of 
 
1 98 NOTES. 
 
 the phrase, he cites The Reiurne frojn Parnassus, 1606 : " One that loves_ 
 a-life a short sermon and a long play," etc.; and lie of Gulls, 1633 : " I 
 love em [cherries] a-life too." This meaning might naturally enough 
 grow out of the other, the oath coming to be used as a mere intensive. 
 
 255. Carbonadoed. Cut in slices and prepared for broiling. Cf. A. W. 
 iv. 5. 107 : "your carbonadoed face" (that is, cut or hacked) ; and Lear, 
 ii. 2. 41 : " draw, you rogue, or I '11 so carbonado your shanks." We find 
 the noun (=steak or cutlet) in i Hen. IV, v. 3. 61 and Cor. iv. 5. 199-.. . 
 
 259. Bless me from, etc. God preserve me from, etc. Cf. Lear, iii. 4. 
 60 : " Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking ! " and see Id. 
 iv. 1.60. We have the full expression in Mtich Ado,\. i. 145: "God 
 bless me from a challenge ! " T. and C. ii. 3. 32 : " heaven bless thee from 
 a tutor," etc. 
 
 261. Moe. More. See ^. K Z. p. 176. 
 
 263. Of a fish, etc. In 1604 the following entry was made on the Sta- 
 tioners' Registers : " A strange reporte of a monstrous fish that appeared 
 in the form of a woman, from her waist upward, seene in the sea." To 
 this S. may allude here (Malone). Halliwell states that in the Ashmolean 
 Museum, at Oxford, a ballad is preserved with the title : "A description 
 of a strange and miraculous fish, cast upon the sands, ... to the tune of 
 Bragandary." The following is a stanza from it : 
 
 "A man on horseback, as tis try'd, 
 
 May stand within his moutli : 
 Let none that hears it this deride. 
 
 For tis confirm' d for truth, 
 By those who dare avouch the same ; 
 Then let the writer beare no blame." 
 
 Several other of these " fish-stories" in verse have come down to our day. 
 One of them is entitled " The discription of a rare or rather most mon- 
 strous fishe, taken on the east cost of Holland the xvij. of November, 
 anno 1566." 
 
 275. Passing. Surpassingly, exceedingly. See A.Y. L. p. 184. 
 
 283. Have at it. I '11 begin it, or try it. Cf. Cymb. v. 5. 315 : " Have 
 at it "then" (=1 '11 tell my story), etc. 
 
 301. Sad. Serious. See Much Ado, p. 121. 
 
 313. Money 's a meddler. That is, it has dealings with any thing. Cf. 
 the use oi meddle— \v3mq. to do (see T. N. p. 152). 
 
 314. Utter. Cause to pass from one hand to another. See R. and J. 
 p. 212. 
 
 315. Carters. Changed by Theo. to "goatherds," on account of the 
 " four threes of herdsmen'" in 325 below ; but Clarke thus shrewdly de- 
 fends the old reading : " The farm-servant knows precisely what are the 
 several callings of the rustics who personate these men of hair, and desig- 
 nates them specially ; but the king, hearing chiefly the repetition words, 
 shepherds, neat-herds, and szvine-herds, speaks of the whole twelve as 
 'these four threes oi herdsmen.'' '''' 
 
 317. Men of hair. That is, dressed up in goatskins, to represent satyrs, 
 or what the servant blunderingly calls saltiers. A dance of satyrs was no 
 unusual entertainment in that day. Froissart tells of one in which the 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. l^^ 
 
 King of France and some of his nobles took part, and narrowly escaped 
 being burned to death ; the hairy dress of one of the dancers taking fire 
 from a candle, and the flames spreading to those about him. 
 
 318. Gallimaufry. Medley, hotchpotch. Cf. M. IV. ii. I. 119: "He 
 loves the gallimaufry" (Pistol's speech). 
 
 324. You weary those that refresh us. You tire these people who exert 
 themselves for our amusement, Clarke makes weary— \S.\t them "by 
 keeping them waiting outside," 
 
 328. Squire. Square (Fr. esquierre), or foot-rule. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 
 474 : " Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire V and i Hen. IV. 
 ii. 2. 13 : "four foot by the squire." 
 
 ZZ'i- At door. Cf. 693 below: "at palace," Gr. 90. 
 
 332. O, father, etc. Said in reply to something the shepherd has asked 
 him during the dance (Mason). 
 
 _ 334. He 'j simple, and tells mtich. " These few words show that the 
 king has been cross-questioning the old shepherd as he proposed, and 
 with the success he then anticipated" (Clarke). Cf. iv. 2. 44 above. 
 
 337. Handed. Was hand in hand with, devoted myself to (Schmidt). 
 Clarke thinks it also implies that Florizel still has Perdita by the hand 
 (see 154 above). 
 
 338. She. Cf. 7:^.1.5.259: "the cruellest she alive;" and see A. 
 V. Z. p. 170. Gr. 224. 
 
 A1^«^/^i-=knick-knacks ; as in T. of S. iv. 3. 167: "a knack, a toy, a 
 trick, a lady's cap," etc. See also 417 below. 
 
 341. Marted. Marketed, traded. Cf. y. C. iv. 3. 11 : "To sell and 
 mart your offices for gold," etc. 
 
 343. Straited. Put into a strait ; used by S. only here. 
 
 350. Ancient sir. See on i. 2. 202 and iii. 3. 62 above. 
 
 351. I take this hand, ^ic. See p. 20 above. 
 
 353. The fann'd snoiv, etc. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 141 : 
 
 "That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, 
 Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow 
 . When thou hold'st up thy hand." 
 
 356. The hand was fair. For the ellipsis of the relative, see Gr. 244. 
 
 372. Take hands. For the formal betrothal. See on i. 2. 104 above. 
 
 379. Contract. Often used with reference to this ceremony. See T'.iV. 
 p. 166. 
 
 384. Nuptial. See on 50 above. 
 
 1%%. Rhejims. Rheumatism. Cf. yl/./^r Af. iii. i. 31 : "Do curse the 
 gout, serpigo, and the rheum," etc. 
 
 389. Dispute. Discuss, reason upon. Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 220 : " Dispute 
 it like a man," etc. ^J•/^^'d'= state, condition (see M. of V.p. 151) ; or 
 " interest, affairs" (Schmidt), as in T.ofA.v. i. 44, etc. Cf Iv. and y. iii. 
 3. 63 : " Let me dispute with thee of thy estate." 
 
 395. Reason my son, etc. There is reason that, it is reasonable that, etc. 
 For the ellipsis, cf. K. John, v. 2. 130 : " and reason too he should," etc. 
 
 401. I not acquaint. See on 180 above. 
 
 406. Divorce. Separation; as in C. of E. i. i. 105: "this unjust di- 
 vorce of us," etc. 
 
200 iVOTES. 
 
 409. Affects. The folio reading, changed by Pope to " affect'st ;" bm 
 in verbs ending with -t this form of the second person appears to have 
 been often used for euphony. See Gr. 340. 
 
 A,\2. Of force. Of necessity. See y^/. i\^. Z>. p. 161. The ist folio has 
 " whom ;" corrected in the 2d. 
 
 413. Cop'' St zvitk. Meetest with, hast to do with. See Ham. p. 222. 
 
 415. Fo7ic/-. Foolish (cf. iv. i. 18 above) ; or the meanings of j///j/-and 
 doting may be blended, as in M. N. D. ii. 2. 88 and iii. 2. 114. 
 
 417. Knack. Plaything. See on 338 above. The folios have "shalt 
 never see." 
 
 420. Far. The folios have " farre " = the Old English /^r;-^. Cf. Chau- 
 cer, C. T. 48: "And therto had he ridden, no man ferre ;" Id. 2062: 
 "Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre," etc. W. prints "far'r." Cf. 
 near—\-\t2atx, in Rich. II. iii. 2. 64, v. i. 88 and Macb. ii. 3. 146. See Gr. 
 478, On Deucalion, cf. Cor. ii. i. 102. 
 
 423. Dead. Deadly ; as in K. John, v. 7. 65 : " these dead news," etc. 
 
 428. Hoop. Pope's correction of the " hope" of the folios. 
 
 430. Eveji here undone, etc. See p. 20 above. 
 
 431. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid. See Macb. 
 p. 163. 
 
 435. Looks on alike. Sr. adopts Hunter's suggestion of "on all." 
 " On both" and "on 's" have also been proposed ; but no change is nec- 
 essary. It does not differ essentially from look ^;/=be a looker-on, which 
 is still good English. We say now " I stood looking on" {T. ofS. i. i. 155), 
 though we have ceased to use look upon in the same way ; as in 7^ aiid 
 C. v. 6. 10: " He is my prize ; I will not look upon ;" 3 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 27 : 
 "And look upon, as if the tragedy 
 Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors," etc. 
 
 See also v. 3. 100 below. D. says that these passages are "not akin" to 
 the present. But look upon as there used implies an object as it does 
 here ; the only difference being that in the one case the omission of the 
 object is the rule, while in the other it is the exception. S. takes the lib- 
 erty of making the exception, as he often does in such cases. 
 
 Will ''t please yoii, sir, be gone ? Coleridge remarks : " O how more than 
 exquisite is this whole speech ! — And that profound nature of noble pride 
 and grief venting themselves in a momentary peevishness of resentment 
 towards Florizel : ' Will 't please you, sir, be gone V " 
 
 438. Queen it. The expression occurs again in Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 37. 
 Cf. M.for M. iii. 2. 100 : " Lord Angelo dukes it well ;" Cymb. iii. 3. 85 : 
 " to prince it," etc. Gr. 226. 
 
 441. Nor dare to knozu, etc. "By such quiet by-touches as this S. 
 teaches morality, and not by parading lessons. Had the old shepherd 
 had moral courage to speak out that which he knows, to declare simply 
 that Perdita is none of his daughter, no shepherd's child, but an infant 
 found with certain writings and rich belongings, he would have been 
 spared the fears he here expresses. But S. not only thus instils moral 
 precept ; he also, as a dramatist, makes his characters act characteristi- 
 cally, and thereby fulfils the art-necessity of protracting the final evolve- 
 ment of his plot" (Clarke). 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 20 T 
 
 444. To die Jipon the bed my father died. That is, 7ipon which my 
 father died. Cf. M. of V. iv. i. 389 : " a gift ... of all he dies possess'd ;" 
 Hen. VIII. i. I. 196 : 
 
 "I do pronounce him in that very shape 
 He shall appear in proof," etc. 
 See Gr. 394. 
 446. Hangman. Executioner. See Mach. p. 190. 
 And lay me, etc. That is, bury me beneath the gallows, with no 
 funereal service. It used to be a part of the service for the priest to throw 
 earth upon the body. 
 - 448. Adventure. Venture. See on ii. 3. 162 above. 
 
 454. Plucking back. Pulling back. See on iv. 2. 41 above. 
 
 455. Leash. The cord or thong by which a hound is led. Cf. Cor. \. 
 6. 38 : " Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash," etc. 
 
 456. Your. The ist folio has "my;" corrected in the 2d. 
 
 463. How often, etc. " The repetition of this earnest reminder to the 
 prince of her having always striven to shov/ him how unlikely it was that 
 his purpose should prosper, marks the noble indignation of Perdita at 
 the Idng's charge that she has sought to win Florizel, and is in strict har- 
 mony with her royal nature. It is from this imputation that she is most 
 solicitous to free herself; it is this which most keenly wounds her; and 
 she remains quietly downcast, with a majesty of silent reserve worthy of 
 Hermione's daughter " (Clarke). Cf. p. 21 above. 
 
 468. And mar the seeds within. Cf. Macb. iv. i. 59 : 
 
 " though the treasure 
 Of nature's germens tumble all together." 
 
 • 471. Fancy. Love. See M. N. D. p. 129. 
 
 479. Or the profound sea hides. Cf. 0th. i. 2. 28 : "For the sea's worth ;" 
 and see note in our ed. p. 160. 
 486. Tug. Cf. Macb. iii. i. 1 12 : 
 
 "And I another 
 So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune," etc. 
 
 dfZ']. Deliver. Report. See v^^?;«. p. 186. 
 
 488. Whojn. The ist folio has " who," which may be Avhat S. wrote. 
 Gr. 274. 
 
 489. Opportune. The accent is the same as in Temp.'w. ^. 511, the 
 only other instance of the word in S. Gr. 490. For our the folios have 
 " her ;" corrected by Theo. 
 
 490. Rides. For the omission of the relative, cf 356 above. Gr. 244. 
 
 494. Easier for advice. More inclined to take advice. 
 
 495. Hark, Perdita. " Here is a perfect, though apparently slight, ex- 
 ample of Shakespeare's dramatic art. By Florizel's taking Perdita apart 
 we are made to perceive how he sees that she stands silently — as it were 
 irresponsively and unassentingly by — while he speaks to Camillo ; and 
 how he hastens to confer with her, and convince her of his unswerved 
 faith, and persuade her to his views : moreover, it affords opportunity 
 for Camillo's soliloquy, which tells the audience his plan" (Clarke). 
 
 499. Do him love. Cf. R. and J. iii. 3. 1 18 : " doing damned hate upon 
 thyself;" R. of L. 597 : " do him shame," etc. Gr. 303. 
 
202 NOTES. 
 
 503. Fraught. Charged, burdened. See T. N. p. 162. 
 Curious — requmug care, embarrassing. Cf. T. and C. iii. 2. 70: 
 " What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our 
 love ?" 
 
 509. As thought on. As thought of, as they are estimated. 
 513. Ponderous. Weighty; that is, having weight or force with you. 
 Cf Lear, i. i. 80 : 
 
 "my love 's 
 More ponderous ["richer" in quartos] than my tongue." 
 
 519. Fore/end. Forbid. See Olh. p. 206. 
 
 521. Your discontenting father, etc. Strive to pacify your angry father 
 and bring him round to approving the match. On qualify, cf K. John, 
 v. I. 13, T. and C. ii. 2. 118, etc. Discontenting ( = discontented) occurs 
 nowhere else in S. See Gr. 372. 
 
 527. The unthought-on accident. The unexpected discovery made by 
 Polixenes. On=of, occurs very often in this play. For to dSier guilty, 
 cf C. of E. iii. 2. 168: "But lest myself be guilty to self-wrong," etc. 
 Guilty /"(^^responsible for. 
 
 528. So we profess, etc. " As chance has driven me to these extremities, 
 so I commit myself to chance, to be conducted through them " (John- 
 son). 
 
 532. Uitdergo. Undertake ; as in ii. 3. 164 above. Cf. T. G. of V. v. 
 
 4. 42 ; 
 
 "What dangerous action, stood it next to death, 
 Would I not undergo for one calm look!" 
 
 2 Ben. IV. i. 3. 54 : " How able such a work to undergo," etc. 
 
 538. Asks. An ellipsis of the nominative (Gr. 399), with a change of 
 construction (cf Gr. 415). 
 
 540. Fresh. Cf 411 above. As Clarke remarks, the epithet "serves 
 to set her in her clear-complexioned, clear-souled purity and brightness 
 before us, with the bloom of a country maiden's cheek, and the white tem- 
 ples of the born princess." 
 
 541. Unkindness. See T. N. p. 156, note on Unkind. Kindness 
 seems to combine the ideas of good-will and tenderness (see Much Ado, 
 p. 118). 
 
 544. Colour for my visitation. Pretext for my visit. Cf Hen. VIII. 
 i. I. 178: 
 
 "Under pretence to see the queen his aunt — 
 For't was indeed his colour," etc. 
 
 See also on i. i. 6 above. 
 
 546. Comforts. Consolations. Cf A. and C. v. i. 62 : 
 
 "give her what comforts 
 The quality of her passion sliall require," etc. 
 
 549. Betwixt us three. The only instance of this inaccurate use of be- 
 tzvixt that we have noticed in S. 
 
 550. Point yotc forth. Point out the way before you. Cf Cymb.w. 5. 
 
 T-'^ ' "and thy lopp'd branches point 
 
 Thy two sons forth." 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 203 
 
 Sitting. Audience or interview. Theo. changed the word to " fit- 
 ting." 
 
 551. That. So that; as in i. i. 27 and in 146 above. Gr. 283. 
 
 552. Have your father' s bosoj7i. Are intrusted with his inmost thoughts 
 or feelings. Cf, M.for M. iv. 3. 139 : "And you shall have your bosom 
 on this wretch " (that is, your heart's desire), etc. 
 
 554. Sap. Life, promise. Cf. A. and C. iii. 13. 192 : "There 's sap in 
 't yet." 
 
 558. Btit as yoic shake off one, etc. Cf. Cy??ib. i. 5. 54 : 
 
 " To shift his being ^• 
 
 Is to exchange one misery witli another." 
 
 559. Who. Often used for which, especially in personifications. Gr. 
 264. 
 
 566. Take in. Take, conquer. Cf. Cor. i. 2. 24 : " To take in many 
 towns" (see also iii. 2. 59) ; A. and C. i. I. 23 : "Take in that kingdom, 
 and enfranchise that " (see also iii. 7. 24 and iii. 13. 83) ; Cynib. iv. 2. 121 : 
 
 " Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore 
 With his own single hand he 'd take us in," etc. 
 
 On the passage, see p. 21 above. 
 
 570. /' the rear d' our birth. The folios have " i' th' reare ' our Birth " 
 (" rear " in 4th folio). W. reads " i' th' rear 'f our birth." 
 
 572. Sir ; for this, etc. The folio reads : 
 
 " Your pardon Sir, for this, 
 He blush you Thanks." 
 
 Some editors point it thus : 
 
 " Your pardon, sir, for this ; 
 I '11 blush you thanks." 
 
 576. Medicine. Physician. Cf. A. W. ii. i. 75 : 
 
 " I have seen a medicine 
 That 's able to breathe life into a stone," etc. 
 
 See also Macb. p. 248. 
 
 577. Furnish' d. Equipped, fitted out (like appointed in 581 below) ; 
 as in T. G. of V, ii. 7. 85 : " To furnish me upon my longing journey," 
 etc. 
 
 578. Appear. That is, appear so, or like Bohemia's son. Rowe prints 
 "appear in Sicily — ;" and the Coll. MS. has "appear't." 
 
 587. Pomander. "A little ball made of perfumes, and worn in the 
 pocket, or about the neck, to prevent infection in times of plague " (Grey). 
 It was also worn for the sake of the perfume or as a mere ornament. 
 Halliwell devotes several pages to it, with illustrations showing its varied 
 form and construction. Steevens quotes the following recipe for the ar- 
 ticle from Lingua, or a Combat for the Tongtie, 1607 : " Your only way to 
 make a good Pomander is this : Take an ounce of the purest' garden 
 mould, cleansed and steeped seven days in change of motherless rose- 
 water. Then take the best labdanum, benjoin, both storaxes, amber-gris 
 and civet and musk. Incorporate them together, and work them into 
 
204 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 what form you please. This, if your breath be not too valiant, will make 
 ybu smell as sweet as my lady's dog."' Various other i-ecipes are given 
 in books of the time. Cf. Drayton, Quest of Cynthia : 
 
 " As when she from the water came. 
 Where first she touch'd the mould, 
 In balls the people made the same, 
 For pomander, and sold ;" 
 and Polyolbion, iv. : 
 
 ■ " Her moss most sweet and rare, 
 Against infectious damps for pomander to wear." 
 
 A book of devotion, published in 1578, was entitled "A Pomander of 
 Prayers." 
 
 For table-book, see Ham. p. 197, note on Tables. 
 
 589. Hallowed. "This alludes to beads often sold by Romanists, 
 as made particularly efficacious by the touch of some relic" (John- 
 son). 
 
 591. Was best in picture. Had the best look. 
 
 594. Pettitoes. Literally, pig's feet; here used contemptuously. 
 
 596. In ears. Mason conjectured "in their ears." 
 
 598. Nothing. Perhaps, as Clarke suggests, there is a pun on nothing 
 and noting. See Mnch Ado, p. 136. 
 
 600. Whoo-bub. Hubbub, outcry ; used by S. only here. 
 
 602. Choughs. For this bird, see Macb. p. 221 or Temp. p. 127. 
 
 604. Nay, bnt my letters, etc. A reply to something said by Florizel 
 during their conversation apart. Cf. 332 above. 
 
 608. Who. Whom ; as in v. I. 109 below, etc. Gr. 274. 
 
 617. Disease. Undress; as in Temp. v. i. 85 : "I will disease me." So 
 ttncase in L. L. L. v. 2. 707 and T. of S. i. I. 212. 
 
 620. Some boot. Something to boot. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 40 : "I '11 
 give you boot," etc. The modern phrase occurs in Sonn. 135. 2, T. and C. 
 i. 2. 260, Macb. iv. 3. 37, etc. 
 
 624. Flayed. Jocosely = stripped ; perhaps playing on disease, the word 
 case being often = skin (Clarke). There may be a play on case in 792 be- 
 low. 
 
 . 628. Earnest. Used quibblingly, referring to his question just before, 
 and to the earnest he had received. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 1..162 : 
 
 " Speed. But did you perceive her earnest? 
 
 " Vaienitne. She gave me none, except an angry word." 
 
 See also C. of E. ii. 2. 23 : 
 
 ^'' Antipholus of Syrac7t.se. Think' st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. 
 
 [Beating him. 
 '■'■ Droniio of Syracuse. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest; 
 Upon what bargain do you give it me?" 
 
 635. Disliken, etc. Disguise your natural appearance. 
 637. Over. Elliptical for "over us," if the text is right. Rowe added 
 "you," and the Coll. MS. gives "ever." Schmidt would point the pas- 
 sage thus : 
 
 "that you may 
 (For I do fear eyes) over to shipboard,". etc. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IV. 
 
 205 
 
 638. I see the play so lies, etc. "The reluctance shown Ijy Perdita to 
 join in the scheme of proposed flight, disguise, and consequent deception 
 thereby entailed, is delineated with a force none the less remarkable from 
 the extreme delicacy of the depicting, and which serves strikingly to 
 characterize this transparent-natured creature" (Clarke). 
 
 642. What have we, etc. Apparently a mere dramatic expedient to al- 
 low the introduction of Camillo's soliloquy. 
 
 647. To force. As to force. For the ellipsis, see Gr. 281. 
 
 648. Reviezv. See again. S. uses the verb only here and in Sonn. 
 
 74-5. 
 
 663. I would not do V. Hannier transposed the not, placing it after 
 zvere ; and Capell put it after thought. Autolycus means that it would 
 not be honesty to tell the king, but a sort of knavery — that is, it would be 
 playing a mean trick on those who had paid him well — and he decides on 
 the greater knavery of concealing the plot. 
 
 666. Hot. iVrdent, active. Cf. L. L. L. ii. i. 120: " Your wit 's too hot, 
 it speeds too fast, 't will tire." 
 
 667. A careful man. Clarke calls attention to the exquisite wit and 
 humour of this expression in the mouth of Autolycus. 
 
 670. Changeling. See on iii. 3. 108 above. "Most true to Shake- 
 speare's philosophy of 'good in every thing' is the making this lout of a 
 shepherd-clown have just the spark of sense to perceive that in their 
 present strait honesty is the best policy" (Clarke). 
 
 683. To go about. To be going, to attempt. See on 214 above. 
 
 687. I know how mnch. Hanmer inserted "not" after know ; but the 
 blunder was probably intentional. 
 
 690. Fardel. Bundle ; spelt " Farthell " in the folio. It is used half a 
 dozen times in this play, but elsewhere only in Hai7i. iii. i. 76. 
 
 693. At palace. The folio prints "at ' Pallace." The apostrophe may 
 be a misprint, or it may indicate the omission or absorption of the. Cf. 
 Gr. 90. 
 
 696. Excrement. Beard. The word is applied to the hair or beard in 
 five out of the six passages in which S. uses it. See Ham. p. 238. 
 
 698. An it like. If it please. Cf Ham. ii. 2. 80 : " It likes us well f 
 and see note in our ed. p. 202. 
 
 701. Having. Estate, property. See ^. KZ, p. 178. 
 
 702. Discover. Disclose, tell me. See on ii. i. 50 above, 
 
 706. Btit we pay them for it, etc. Daniel has suggested " not with 
 stamped coin, but stabbing steel," comparing 0th. iii. 4. 5 : " He 's a sol- 
 dier ; and for one to say a soldier lies is stabbing.''^ Autolycus appears to 
 have mystified the critic here, as he doubtless did the clown. When he 
 said that tradesmen " often give us soldiers the lie," he probably meant 
 that they do it by lying about their wares (a trick that he was sufficiently 
 familiar with) ; but, he adds, " we pay them for it with stamped coin, not 
 with stabbing steel " — as they deserve, or as you would suppose. Trades- 
 men could hardly be said to be in the habit of giving soldiers the lie in 
 the literal sense of the phrase. 
 
 '709. Had like. ' See A. Y. L. p. 197, note on And like. 
 
 710. Taken yourself with the manner, A legal phrase = taken yourself 
 
2o6 NOTES. 
 
 in the fact. Cf. L. L. L.\. i. 206 : " The manner of it is, I was taken with 
 the manner ;" and He7t. IV. ii. 4. 347 : " O villain, thou stolest a cup of 
 sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since 
 thou hast blushed extempore." 
 
 714. Measure. " Stately tread " (Malone). Cf. measure— z. grave dance ; 
 as in Much Ado, ii. I. 80, etc. 
 
 716. For that. Because. Cf ii. I. 7 above. //zi'mzM/^ = " intermed- 
 dle " (Schmidt) ; as in Rich. III. i. 4. 152 : " he would insinuate with thee," 
 etc. 
 
 717. Ortouze. The ist folio has "at toaze," the later folios "or toaze." 
 The word is probably the same that we have in M.for M. v. i. 313 : 
 
 " to the rack with him ! we '11 touze you 
 Joint by joint." 
 
 There it means to pull apart ; here it is apparently=draw out. 
 
 718. Cap-a-pe. From head to foot. See Ham. p. 186. 
 
 724. A pheasant. " As he was a suitor from the country, the clown 
 supposes his father should have brought a present o{ game, and therefore 
 imagines, when Autolycus asks him what advocate he has, that by the word 
 advocate he means z. pheasanf'' (Steevens). Reed says : " In the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth there were Justices of the Peace called Basket Justices, 
 who would do nothing without a present ; yet, as a member of the House 
 of Commons expressed himself, 'for half a dozen of chickens would dis- 
 pense with a whole dozen of penal statutes.' " Halliwell gives this apt 
 illustration from the Journal of the Rev. Giles Moore, 1665 : " I gave to 
 Mr. Cripps, solicitor, for acting for me in obtaining my qualification, and 
 effecting it, £1 \os., and I allowed my brother Luxford for going to Lon- 
 don thereupon, and presenting my lord with two brase of pheasants, ioj-.," 
 etc. The patron to whom he sent the game was " Charles, Lord Goring, 
 Earle of Norwich." 
 
 Some editors needlessly <^2ccig% pheasant to "present." 
 
 731. He wears them not handsomely. A "touch of nature." The 
 shepherd, though a simple man, has an instinctive perception of the 
 difference between a true gentleman and a vulgar fellow disguised as 
 one. 
 
 734. By the picking on 'j teeth. Johnson remarks : "It seems that to 
 pick the teeth was at this time a mark of some pretension to greatness or 
 elegance. So the Bastard, in Kiiig John [i. i. 190],' speaking of the trav- 
 eller, says : ' He and his toothpick at my worship's mess.' " See also 
 A.W.\. \. I']! : "just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not 
 now ;" and Id. iii. 2. 8 : " Why, he will . . . pick his teeth and sing." 
 
 738. Such . . . which. See on i. I. 22 above. 
 
 750. In hand-fast. " In custody ; properly in mainpj-ise, in the custo- 
 dy of a friend on security given for appearance " (D). In Cymb. i. 5. yS, 
 hand-fast— h^\xo'i\\2^, marriage-engagement. 
 
 754. Wit. Inventive power ; as in V. and A. 472, M.for M. v. i. 368, 
 L. L. L. i. 2. 191, etc. 
 
 755, Germane. Akin, related. Cf. 7". ^^. iv. 3. 344 : "germane to 
 the lion," etc. 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 207 
 
 758. Sheep-whistling. Whistling for sheep, tending sheep. 
 
 759. Co??ie into grace. That is, " undergo such ample grace and hon- 
 our " {M.for M. i. I. 24) as to marry the prince. 
 
 766. 'Noi7ited over -with honey, etc. Reed cites a book which S. may- 
 have seen, The Stage of Popish Toyes, 1581 : "he caused a cage of yron 
 to be made, and set it in the sunne : and, after annointing the pore Prince 
 over with hony, forced him naked to enter in it, where hee long time en- 
 dured the greatest languor and torment in the worlde, with swarmes of 
 flies that dayly fed on him ; and in this sorte, with paine and famine, 
 ended his miserable life." 
 
 769. The hottest day, etc. " That is, the hottest day foretold in the 
 almanac" (Johnson). Malone quotes the title of a Calendar of the 
 time : " An Almanack and Prognostication made for the year of our 
 Lord God 1595." 
 
 773. Traitorly. Traitorous ; used by S. only here. 
 _ 775. Being soiiiething gently considered. If I have a gentlemanlike con- 
 sideration given me (Steevens) ; a delicate hint at a bribe. Cf. The He 
 of Gulls, 1633 : "Thou shalt be well considered, there 's twenty crowns in 
 earnest." 
 
 777. Tender. Present, introduce. 
 
 781. And though. Some editors read "an though." Cf Gr. loi. 
 
 790, Moiety. See on ii. 3. 8 above, 
 
 792. Case. See on 624 above. 
 
 813. Back. The Coll. MS. has "luck." 
 
 814. Aboai'd him. Aboard his ship. Cf. v. 2. no below: "aboard 
 the prince." 
 
 815. Shore. The only instance of the verb in S. Cf Gr. 290. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. — 2. Make. See on iii. 2. 215 above. 
 6. Whilst I remember, etc. See p. 32 above. 
 
 12. True, too true, etc. In the folios, the first true is joined to the pre- 
 ceding speech ; corrected by Theo. See p. 23 above, 
 14. Or from the all, etc. Cf Temp. iii. i. 47 : 
 
 "but you, O you. 
 So perfect and so peerless, are created 
 Of every creature's best !" 
 
 See also A. V. L. iii. 2. 149-160. 
 
 19. Good now. For this "vocative use" oi good, see Ham. p. 173. 
 27. Fail. See on ii. 3. 170 above. 
 
 29. Tncertain. See on iii. 2. 167 above. 
 
 30. Well. At rest. Cf. A. and C. ii. 5. 33 : " We use to say, the dead 
 are well." See also R. and J. p. 208. As Henley remarks, this use of 
 well seems to have been suggested by 2 Ki)igs, iv. 26. 
 
 -^,1. Repair. Restoration. Cf 6'^;z;z. 3. 3, A^ y^//;;, iii. 4. I13, etc. 
 35. Respecting. Considering, if we consider. Cf 2 Hen. VI.\\\. i. 24 : 
 " Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears," etc. 
 
 y 
 
2o8 NOTES. 
 
 42. As my Antigonns, etc. For the construction, see Gr. 354, and cf. 
 416. 
 
 45. Cont7-ary. Schmidt puts this among the cases in which the accent 
 is on the penult (like K. John, iv. 2. 198, Ham. iii. 2. 221, etc.), but the 
 other accent, which is the more common one in S., suits the verse quite 
 as well, if not better. See Ham. p. 227. 
 
 46. Oppose against. Cf, T. of A. iii. 4. 80, Lear, ii. 4. 179, iv. 7. 32, Rich. 
 II. iii. 3. 18, etc. 
 
 52. Squa^-'d. See on iii. 3. 41 above. 
 
 57-60. Would make, etc. The ist folio prints the passage thus : 
 
 " would make her Sainted Spirit 
 Againe possesse her Corps, and on this Stage 
 (Where we offenders now appeare) Soule-vext, 
 And begin, why to me?" 
 
 Various emendations have been proposed ; as " (Where we offend her 
 now) appear soul-vex'd" (Theo.) ; " (Were we offenders now) appear" 
 (Heath) ; "(Where we offend her) now appear" (Spedding) ; " Where 
 we 're offenders now, appear" (anon, in Camb. ed.), etc. The reading in 
 the text is that of K., St., W., the Camb. ed., and others. Of course are 
 is understoood with offenders. The reading '_' we're " is very plausible, 
 but the ellipsis is not unlike many others in this play. 
 
 In 60, Capell's reading." Begin, ' And why to me?'" is adopted by 
 many editors. There is probably some corruption in the original. Ma- 
 lone explains why to me? as — "why to me did you prefer one less wor- 
 thy?" and Boswell (better, we think) "why such treatment to me?" 
 
 61. Cause. The ist and 2d folios have "such cause." 
 
 Ince7ise. Incite, instigate. See Much Ado, p. 166. 
 
 65. That. So that. Cf. i. I. 27 and iv. 4. 146 above. 
 
 66. Rift. Burst, split. S. uses the verb only here and in Temp. v. i. 
 45 : "and rifted Jove's stout oak." Elsewhere he has rive ; as in Cor. 
 V. 3. 153 •■ " That should but rive an oak," etc. 
 
 75. Affront. Come before, meet. Cf. Ham. iii. I. 31 : 
 
 "That he, as 'twere by accident, may here 
 Affront Ophelia," etc. 
 See Ham. p. 216. 
 
 I have done. In the folios, these words are at the end of the pre- 
 ceding speech ; the emendation is Capell's, and is generally adopted. 
 K. and Halliwell retain the old reading. 
 
 80. Walk' d your first queen's ghost. That is, z/it walked ; the inversion 
 being like that still common with have, be, etc. Cf. 107 below. 
 
 83. /;« breath. Elsewhere used only in the modern sense; as in T. 
 and C. V. 7. 3 : " Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath," etc. 
 
 85. Gives out. Cf. iv. 4. 149 above. 
 
 87. Access. Accented regularly on the last syllable, except in Ham. ii. 
 I. no. 
 
 90. Out of cij'cum stance. Without ceremony. See Much Ado, p. 145 
 and Ha7n. p. 197. 
 
 91. Visitation. See on i. I. 6 above. Framed - planned, premedi- 
 tated. 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 209 
 
 94. Piece of earth. Cf. iv. 4. 32, 411 above. 
 
 97. Gj-ave. Changed in the Coll. MS. to "grace." Clarke thus de- 
 fends the old reading : " It affords befitting antecedent to colder than 
 that thetne ; and it has fine poetic propriety in itself, as embodying the 
 collective iDeauties of the supposed dead queen in her grave, and im- 
 pressing upon Paulina's hearers the point of which she wishes them to 
 be convinced — that Hermione's remains repose in t\iQ grave-'''' To us the 
 antithesis of thy grave — thou in thy grave — and 7uhat 'j seen now — the 
 living beauty before our eyes — seems very forcible. A good actress 
 would make an impressive " point " of it. 
 
 102. Shrewdly. Combining the ideas of ffmch and badly. Cf. HeJt. V. 
 p. 170. 
 
 109. Who. See on iv. 4. 608 above. 
 
 113. With. By, Cf. v. 2. 60 below : " with a bear." Or. 193. 
 
 114. Emb7'acej7ient. Used by S. oftener than ^/«<5r<2(:^. (Zi.C.ofEA.i. 
 44, Rich. III. ii. I. 30, etc. 
 
 117. Full a. The 3d and 4th folios have " a full." 
 
 124. Ujifiirnish. Deprive. Cf. T. A. ii. 3. 56: " Unfurnish'd of her 
 well-beseeming troop." 
 
 126. Print, etc. Cf. ii. 3. 98 above. 
 
 139. On him. Changed by Steevens to "upon;" but cf. Temp. iii. 2, 
 53 : " whom Destiny . . . Hath caus'd to belch up you." For other ex- 
 amples, see Gr. 249. 
 
 141. At friend. On terms of friendship ; the reading of the ist folio, 
 changed to " as friend " in the 2d. See Gr. 143 ; and cf. to friend in 
 A. W. V. 3. 182, y. C. iii. I. 143, etc. 
 
 142. Btct. ^w\.that. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 414: " And but he 's something 
 stain'd," etc. Gr. 120. 
 
 143. Waits upon worn times. Attends old age. .SmV^ fallen upon, 
 attacked. 
 
 155. Adventure. Hazard, risk; as in C of E. ii. 2. 218: "at all ad- 
 ventures," etc. Cf. the use of the verb in Temp. ii. i. 187, M. of V. i. i. 
 143, etc. See also i, 2. 38, ii. 3. 162, and iv. 4. 448 above. 
 
 156. Libya. Douce conjectured " Lydia " or " Lycia." 
 
 169. Climate. Try the climate, sojourn ; the only instance of the verb 
 in S. 
 
 Holy. Good, blameless. Cf. Temp. v. i. 62 : " Holy Gonzalo, honour- 
 able man," etc. Gj'aceful in next line = full of grace, gracious. 
 
 181. Attach. Arrest; a law term. See R. a7id J. y>. 21^ ox Rich. II. 
 p. 186. 
 
 188. Whiles. See Gr. 137. 
 
 196. In question. Under examination ; not simply "in conversation" 
 (cf. iv. 2. 44 above), as some explain it. 
 
 201. O my poor father I On the silence of Perdita up to this point, see 
 p. 21 above. 
 
 203. Our contract celebrated. Our betrothal consummated by mar- 
 riage. See T.N. p. 160 (note on Plight me, etc.) and p. 166 (note on 
 Contracted). 
 
 206. The odds for high and low, etc. The chances for the high and 
 
 o 
 
2IO NOTES. 
 
 the low in rank are equally uncertain. Douce sees here a quibble on 
 the false dice called high and low ; as in M. W. i. 3. 95. 
 
 213. Worth. Johnson remarks : " Worth signifies any kind oi worthi- 
 ness, and among others that of high descent. The king means that he is 
 sorry the prince's choice is not in other respects as worthy of him as in 
 beauty." For 7e/<?r//^= wealth, fortune, see T. N. p. 151. 
 
 215. Visible an enemy. Appearing visibly as an enemy. 
 
 218. Remember since, etc. Remember when, etc. ; that is, recollect 
 when you were no older than I am. Since is used in this way only after 
 verbs of remembering. Cf. M. N. D. ii. i. 149 : 
 
 " Thou rememberest 
 Since once I sat upon a promontory," etc. 
 See Gr. 132. 
 
 219. With thought of such affections. Thinking of such feelings as you 
 then had, recalling what your feelings then were. 
 
 223. Sir, my liege. A form of address used also in Temp. v. i. 245 and 
 Cymb. iii. i. 16. Cf. Sir, my lord, in i. 2. 306 above, and sir, my gracious 
 lord, in iv. 4. 5. 
 
 229. Your honour, etc. If your honour, etc. Cf. iii. 2. 75 above. Gr. 
 377. 
 
 Scene II. — 4. Deliver. Relate. Cf. iv. 4. 487 above and 25 below. 
 
 5. Afnazedness. Cf AI. W. iv. 4. 55 : "We two in great amazedness 
 will fly." 
 
 6. Only this, etc. The folio prints the passage thus : " onely this (me 
 thought) I heard the Shepheard say, he found the child." Some eds. 
 give it : " only this, methought I heard the shepherd say he found the 
 child." 
 
 17. Importance. Import (Malone and Schmidt). 
 
 18. Of the one. That is, of the one or the other. 
 
 19. Happily. Haply; as often. See T. N. p. 158 or Ham. pp. 175, 
 208. Gr. 42. 
 
 23. Ballad-makers. These writers were in the habit of turning any 
 extraordinary event to account. Cf. the subjects of the ballads that Au- 
 tolycus has for sale (iv. 4. 254 fol. above), and see note on iv. 4. 263. 
 
 29. Pregnant by circumstance. Made plausible by the circumstances 
 or the facts in the case. Pregnant is elsewhere used in a similar sense 
 =about to appear as truth, highly probable. Cf M.for M. ii. i. 2'^,0th. 
 ii. I. 239, A. and C. ii. i. 45, and Cymb. iv. 2. 235. 
 
 32. Jexvel. Used for any personal ornament of gold or precious stones. 
 See T. N. p. 154. 
 
 33. Character. Handwriting. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 53 : " 'T is Hamlet's 
 character," etc. 
 
 35. Affection. Disposition; as in Macb.'w.'^.']'] : "my most ill-com- 
 pos'd affection," etc. Affection of nobleness = 'm\-\7ite nobility. 
 
 46. Favour. Look, aspect. See Ham. p. 263 or M. N. D. p. 130. 
 
 51. Clipping. Embracing. Cf i^ y<^/^;z, v. 2. 34 : " Neptune's arms, 
 who clippeth thee about." See also Oth. p. 192. 
 
 52. Wec^ther-bitten. Changed to "weather-beaten" in the 3d folio. 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. 21 1 
 
 Henley remarks : " Conduits representing a human figure were here- 
 tofore not uncommon. One of this kind, a female form, and weather- 
 beaten, still exists at Hoddesdon in Herts." Cf R. and J. iii. 5. 129 : 
 " How now ! a conduit, girl ? what, still in tears ?" and see note in our 
 ed. p. 196. 
 
 55. To do it. That is, to describe it. Hanmer changed do to " draw," 
 and the Coll. MS. has "show." Sr. conjectures "do it justice." 
 
 Malone compares Tei7ip. iv. i. 10 : 
 
 " For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, 
 And make it halt behind her." 
 
 66. Wracked. For the spelling, see T. N. p. 162. 
 
 71. Another. The other. Cf. iii. 3. 20 and iv. 4. 176 above. 
 
 79. Angled. See on iv. 2. 41 above. On the passage, see p. 22 
 above. 
 
 85. Who -was most marble. Even those who were of the hardest nat- 
 ures, or least susceptible of emotion; not "most petrified with wonder," 
 as Steevens explained it. 
 
 92. Julio Romano. He was born in 1492 and died in 1546. For the 
 anachronism, see pp. 13, 17, and 35 above. ^^^rw/Zj = immortality ; as 
 in R. of L. 214 : " Or sells eternity to get a toy," etc. 
 
 93. Of her cnstojn. " That is, of her trade — would draw her customers 
 from her" (Johnson). 
 
 94. Is he her ape. Does he ape her. Cf. Cy77ib. ii. 2. 31 : "O sleep, 
 thou ape of death ! " 
 
 loi. Removed. Remote, retired. See A. V. L. p. 177. 
 
 102. Piece. Add to, increase. 
 
 106. Unthi'ifty to onr knowledge. " Not intent on increasing, and hence 
 not increasing, our knowledge" (Schmidt). 
 
 116. Relished. Schmidt makes relish here="have a pleasing taste." 
 The meaning may be, it would have counted as nothing in comparison 
 with my discredits, would not have served to give them even a "relish 
 of salvation" {Ham. iii. 3. 92). 
 
 120. Moe. See on i. 2. 8 above. 
 
 122. Denied. Refused. See R. and J. p. 159. 
 
 123. See you these clothes ? See p. 36 above. 
 
 139. Preposterous. The clown's blunder iox prosperous (Schmidt). 
 
 144. For we must be gentle, etc. The shepherd's expression of " No- 
 blesse oblige." See on iii. 3. 125 above. 
 
 152. Franklins. Freeholders, yeomen ; above villains or serfs, but not 
 gentlemen (Johnson). Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 79 : 
 
 "A riding-suit, no costHer than would fit 
 A franklin's housewife." 
 
 156, A tall fellow of thy hands. "An active, able-bodied man, who 
 will stand the test " (Schmidt). Cf. M. W. i. 4. 27 : " he is as tall a man 
 of his hands as any is between this and his head ; he hath fought with a 
 warrener.'' Cf. T. N. p. 123, note on Tall. Hallivvell cites Cotgrave, 
 Fr. Diet. : " Haul a la main, Homme a la main, Homme de main, — A 
 man of his hands ; a man of execution or valour ; a striker, like enough 
 
212 NOTES. 
 
 to lay about him;" and Palsgrave, Lesclaircissement, etc., 1530: "He is 
 a tall man of his handes, Oest 7ing habille homme de ses mains.'''' 
 160. To my power. To the best of my ability. 
 
 164. Picture. That is, painted statue. 
 
 165. Masters. Patrons. Cf. L. L. L. iv. i. 106: "From my Lord 
 Biron, a good master of mine." Whalley cites a letter from Fisher, 
 Bishop of Rochester, when in prison, to Cromwell : " Furthermore, I be- 
 seeche you to be gode master unto one in my necessities," etc. 
 
 Scene III. — 4. Home. In full. See on i. 2. 238 above, and cf. Ham. 
 p. 232, note on Tax hi?n home. 
 
 11. Content. Satisfaction, pleasure. See (9//^. p. 174. 
 
 12. Singularities. Rarities, curiosities. Cf. singular in iv. 4. 144 above. 
 
 18. Lonely. The 1st folio has " Louely," the later folios "Lovely;" 
 corrected by Hanmer. Warb. defended "lovely," explaining it as 
 " charily, with more than ordinary regard and tenderness." 
 
 19. Lively. To the life. Cf. T. G. of V. iv. 4. 174 : " so lively acted ;" 
 T. of S. ind. 2. 58 : " As lively painted as the deed was done," etc. 
 
 26. Ln thy not chiding. A "little instance of tender remembrance in 
 Leontes, which adds to the charming impression of Hermione's charac- 
 ter" (Mrs. Jameson). 
 
 32. As. As if. See Gr. 107. 
 
 34. Thtcs she stood, etc. Mrs. Jameson remarks : " The expressions 
 used here by Leontes, and by Polixenes [in 66 below], appear strangely 
 applied to a statue, such as we usually imagine it — of the cold colourless 
 marble ; but it is evident that in this scene Hermione personates one of 
 those images or effigies, such as we may see in the old Gothic cathedrals, 
 in which the stone, or marble, was coloured after nature. I remember 
 coming suddenly upon one of these effigies, either at Basle or at Fribourg, 
 which made me start : the figure was large as life ; the drapery of crim- 
 son, powdered with stars of gold; the face and eyes and hair tinted after 
 nature, though faded by time. It stood in a Gothic niche, over a tomb, as 
 I think, and in a kind of dim uncertain light. It would have been very 
 easy for a living person to represent such an effigy, particularly if it had 
 been painted by that 'rare Italian master, Julio Romano,' who, as we are 
 informed, was the reputed author of this wonderful statue." 
 
 That these painted statues were not unknown in the poet's time is evi- 
 dent from B. J., Magnetic Lady, v. 5 : 
 
 ''''Rut. I 'd have her statue cut now in white marble. 
 '•''Sir Moth. And have it painted in most orient colours. 
 '''' Rtd. That 's right! all city statues must be painted; 
 Else they '11 be worth nought in their subtle judgments." 
 
 The monumental bust of Shakespeare at Stratford was originally painted 
 in imitation of nature, " the hands and face flesh colour, the eyes of a light 
 hazel, the hair and beard auburn," etc. (Britton). Vasari states that Giu- 
 lio Romano built a house for himself in Mantua, the front of which " he 
 adorned with a fantastic decoration of coloured stuccoes." 
 - 42. Standing like stone. " The grief, the love, the remorse, and impa- 
 tience of Leontes are finely contrasted with the astonishment and ad- 
 
ACT V. SCENE III. 213 
 
 miration of Perdita, who, gazing on the figure of her mother like one en- 
 tranced, looks as if she were also turned to marble" (Mrs. Jameson). 
 
 56. Piece up. " Hoard up, so as to have his fill" (Schmidt). 
 
 58. Wrought. Wrought upon, agitated. Cf. Te7np. iv. i. 144 : 
 
 "your father 's in some passion 
 That works him strongly ;'' 
 
 Id. V. I. 17 : " Your charm so strongly works 'em," etc. See also Macb. 
 i. 3. 149 and 0th. v. 2. 345, 
 
 62. Would I were dead, etc. It has been suspected that a line is lost after 
 this one ; and the Coll. MS. inserts " I am but dead stone, looking upon 
 stone," An anonymous conjecture (quoted by Sr.) is "I 'm in heaven, 
 and looking on an angel." But, as Clarke remarks, the diction is in 
 keeping with that of Leontes throughout — "disjointed, and full of sud- 
 den starts." 
 
 St. takes Would I tvere dead but that, etc., as = May I die if I do not 
 think that already — she is alive, he would have said, had he not inter- 
 rupted himself. But it is doubtful whether but that ever follows a clause 
 of this kind, the simple but being regularly used. 
 
 (j*]. Fixure. " Direction" (Schmidt). Edwards says : "The meaning 
 is, though her eye be fixed (as the eye of a statue always is) yet it seems 
 to have motion in it : that tremulous motion which is perceptible in the 
 eye of a living person, how much soever one endeavour to fix it." In T. 
 and C. i. 3. loi, the only other instance of the word in S., it is = stability. 
 Fixture (=:setting) occurs only in AI. W. iii. 3. 67. 
 
 6S. As. Changed by Capell to "and." Mason conjectures "so." Ma- 
 lone and Steevens take as to be = as if. Clarke explains it better: 
 " Leontes refers to the contradiction in the first clause of his speech : 
 The immobility of eye proper to a statue seems to have the motion of a 
 living eye, as we are thus beguiled by art." With=hy ; as in v. i. 113 
 and V. 2. 60 above. 
 
 86. Resolve yoic. Prepare yourselves. 
 
 96. Ujilawful bjisijiess. For the old laws against the practice of magi- 
 cal arts, see A. V. L. p. 194, note on Not damnable. 
 
 100. Look upon. See on iv. 4. 435 above. 
 
 107. Double. For the adverlDial use, cf. A. W. ii. 3. 254, Macb. i. 6. 15, 
 iv. I. 83, etc. 
 
 109. Is she become the suitor? Rowe changed the interrogation mark 
 of the folio to a period, and has been generally followed, except by K., 
 v., and the Camb. editors. We do not see much to choose between the 
 readings, but on the whole prefer the old one. Paulina says in sub- 
 stance : Do not be afraid of her, but give her your hand ; you wooed her 
 once, is she become the suitor now ? This does not imply that Hermione 
 makes no advances, but rather indicates surprise that he who once wooed 
 her should now " shun" her when she approaches him and let her do all 
 the wooing. 
 
 III. She embraces him. On the silence of Hermione, see pp. 27 and 
 32 above. 
 
 122. Your sacred vials. Malone remarks that the expression seems to 
 have been suggested by Rev. xvi. i ; and Halliwell adds Isa. xlv. 8. 
 
214 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 129. Push. Impulse (Schmidt), or suggestion. Clarke explains it as 
 "emergency, special occasion." 
 
 131. Yojt precious winners. You who have gained what is precious to 
 you. 
 
 132. Partake. Impart. Cf. Per. i. i. 153 : 
 
 "our mind partakes 
 Her private actions to your secrecy." 
 
 Turtle. See on iv. 4. 154 above. 
 
 144. Whose. Referring to Camillo, not to her. 
 
 145. Is richly noted. The Var, of 1821 misprints "It richly noted." 
 y?/j-^^^^=avouched. Cf. v. 2. 62 above. 
 
 147. What! look upon my brother. "How exquisitely this serves to 
 depict the sensitively averted face of Hermione from Polixenes, recol- 
 lecting all the misconstruction that had formerly grown out of her purely 
 gracious attentions to him ; and also how sufficingly it shows the sincere 
 repentance of Leontes for bygone errors, that he has had sixteen years to 
 mourn and see in their true light ! No one better than Shakespeare knew 
 the nobleness of a candid avowal of previous mistake, the relief of heart 
 to its speaker, the elevated satisfaction to its hearers ; and with this 
 crowning satisfaction he leaves us at the close of this grandly beautiful 
 play" (Clarke). 
 
 \A^%. Holy. Blameless. Cf. v. i. 29, 31, and 169 above. 
 
 149. This is your son-in-law, etc. The folio reads thus : 
 
 " This your Son-in-law, 
 And Sonne vnto the King, whom heauens directing 
 Is troth-plight to your daughter." 
 
 D. adopts Walker's suggestion of "This' your"="This is your," which, 
 as the latter remarks, would not mar the metre, though he prefers the 
 other. The "Globe" ed. inserts the "is." It seems awkward to make 
 the leading sentence " This your son-in-law is troth-plight to your daugh- 
 ter" — the assertion being already implied in the subject — and to make 
 "whom heavens directing" merely parenthetical. What Leontes says 
 is rather, we think, " This is your son-in-law, and by heaven's direction 
 he is troth-plight," etc. " Whom heavens directing" is a "confusion of 
 construction" for "Who, heavens directing him." For many somewhat 
 similar ones, see Gr. 249, 410, and 415. Capell changed whom to "who," 
 as the " Globe " ed. does. 
 
 For froth-plight, cf. Hen. V.n. i. 21 : "you were troth-plight to her." 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
 EXPLAINED. 
 
 abide, i86. 
 
 aboard him, 207. 
 
 abused (=:deceived), 167. 
 
 access (accent), 168,208. 
 
 action, 166. 
 
 adheres (=pertains), 182. 
 
 adventure (verb), 149, 172, 
 
 201, 209. 
 afar off guilty, 166. 
 afeard, 200. 
 
 affection (=disposition),2io. 
 affection (=lust), 154. 
 affects (form), 200. 
 affront (=meet), 208. 
 aired, 182. 
 allow (of this), 182. 
 allowed (=allowable), 158. 
 allowing (=approving), 156. 
 amazedness, 210. 
 an it like (=if it please), 205. 
 ancient, 189. 
 ancientrj', iSo. 
 angle (^attraction), 183. 
 another ( =the other), 179, 
 
 195,211. 
 ape, 211. 
 ape-bearer, 186. 
 apparent (=heir apparent), 
 
 156. 
 appear (=appear so), 203. 
 appoint myself, 160. 
 apprehend, iSS. 
 approbation (=proof), 167. 
 approved (=proved), 183. 
 argument (=subject}, 182. 
 as (=as if), 160, 182, 212. 
 as (omitted), 205. 
 aspect (accent), 166. 
 at door, 199. 
 at friend, 209. 
 at palace, 205. 
 attach (=arrest), 209. 
 attorneyed, 148. 
 aunts (=mistresses), 184. 
 avoid (=begone), 163. 
 
 baits (=attacks), 170. 
 barne, 180. 
 
 basilisk, 161. 
 
 bawcock, 153. 
 
 bearing-cloth, 181. 
 
 becoming (=comely), 179. 
 
 benched, 159. 
 
 best in picture, 204. 
 
 Best, the ( = Christ), 162. 
 
 betwixt us three, 202. 
 
 bide upon, 158. 
 
 blank (=target), 168. 
 
 blench, 160. 
 
 bless me from, 198. 
 
 block, 157. 
 
 blood (^passions), 151. 
 
 blossom, 179. 
 
 Bohemia, 148, 179. 
 
 boiled brains, 180. 
 
 boot, to, 151, 204. 
 
 borrow (noun), 149. 
 
 bosom (=inmost thoughts), 
 
 203. 
 bourn, 154. 
 
 braid (=deceitful), 196. 
 brave (=fine), 196. 
 break up, 176. 
 break-neck, 160. 
 breed, 179. 
 
 bring (= accompany), 186. 
 bug (=bugbear), 176. 
 but (=but that), 209. 
 but (=only), 165. 
 but (peculiar use), 183, 195. 
 
 caddisses, 196. 
 callat, 170. 
 came home, 157. 
 cap-a-pe, 206. 
 carbonadoed, 198. 
 carnations, 189. 
 carriage (=conduct), 174. 
 case (=skin), 204, 207. 
 caught (=impressed), 174. 
 censure (=judgment), 164. 
 centre (=earth), 165. 
 chamber-counsels, 158. 
 changed (=exchanged), 151, 
 
 188. 
 changeling, 181, 205. 
 
 character, 179, 210. 
 
 charge (=value), 197. 
 
 charm your tongues, 197. 
 
 chase, 180. 
 
 cheat, 184. 
 
 child (=girl), 180. 
 
 childness, 156. 
 
 choughs, 204. 
 
 clap thyself my love, 152. 
 
 clerk-like, 161. 
 
 climate (verb), 209. 
 
 clipping, 210. 
 
 cock (=woodcock), 184. 
 
 collop, 154. 
 
 colour (=pretext), 202. 
 
 come into grace, 207. 
 
 comforting (^aiding), 169. 
 
 comforts ( = consolations ), 
 
 202. 
 commend it strangely, 173. 
 commission, 155. 
 commodity, 176. 
 compassed a motion, 186. 
 conceit, 157, 177. 
 conjure (accent), 161. 
 content, 212. 
 contract ( ^betrothal ), igg, 
 
 209. 
 contrary (accent), 208. 
 cop'st with, 200. 
 corse, 194. 
 counters, 185. 
 crack, 159. 
 
 cracks his gorge, 165. 
 credent (=credible), 155. 
 crown imperial, 193. 
 curious, 202. 
 curst, 181. 
 
 Cyprus (=crape), 196. 
 Cytherea, 192. 
 
 daffodils, 183, 192. 
 
 dam, 178. 
 
 damnable (adverb), 178. 
 
 dances (=throbs), 153. 
 
 dead (= deadly), 200. 
 
 dear, 172. 
 
 dear' St, 154. 
 
2i6 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 deliver (^report), 201, 210. 
 
 Delphos, 168. 
 
 denied, 211. 
 
 Deucalion, 2co. 
 
 dibble, 190. 
 
 die and drab, 184. 
 
 dildos, 195. 
 
 dim, 192. 
 
 disease 204. 
 
 discontenting, 202. 
 
 discovered, 165, 205. 
 
 discovery, 162. 
 
 disliken, 204. 
 
 dispute (=discuss), 199. 
 
 Dis's waggon, 191. 
 
 divine (=priest), 174. 
 
 divorce, 199. 
 
 do him love, 201. 
 
 doctrine, 151. 
 
 dole, 156. 
 
 double (adverb), 213. 
 
 doxy, 184. 
 
 dread, 159. 
 
 due (^appropriate), 175. 
 
 earnest (play upon), 204. 
 earth (=land), 179. 
 easier for advice, 201. 
 embracement, 209. 
 encounter (=befall), 164. 
 encounter with, 172. 
 encounters, 148, 175. 
 estate (=state), 199. 
 eternity, 211. 
 
 excrement (=beard), 205. 
 expedition, 163. 
 extremes, 187. 
 
 fact, 175. 
 
 fading, 195. 
 
 fail (noun), 172, 207. 
 
 falling (transitive), 160. 
 
 fancy (=love), 201. 
 
 far (=farther), 200. 
 
 fardel, 205. 
 
 favour (=^look), 210. 
 
 fearful, 158. 
 
 featly, 195. 
 
 federary, 165. 
 
 feeding, 195. 
 
 fellows, 172. 
 
 fetch off, 160. 
 
 fixure, 213. 
 
 flap-drag oiied, 180. 
 
 flatness, 176. 
 
 flaunts (=finery), 188. 
 
 flayed, 204. 
 
 flower-de-luce, 193. 
 
 fond (=foolish), 200. 
 
 fool, 166. 
 
 for (=because), 179, 189. 
 
 for because, 164. 
 
 for perpetuity, 149. 
 
 for that, 206. 
 
 for to, 162. 
 
 forced, 170, 188. 
 
 forceful, 167. 
 
 fore, 175. 
 
 forefend, 202. 
 
 forges (=;frames), 187. 
 
 forked (=horned), 156. 
 
 framed (=planned), 208. 
 
 franklins, 211. 
 
 fraught, 202. 
 
 free, 168, 169. 
 
 freedom of my knowledge, 
 
 149. 
 frequent to, 183. 
 fresh, 202. 
 friendships, 183. 
 furnished, 203. 
 fury, 179. 
 
 gallimaufry, 199. 
 
 gallows and knock, 184. 
 
 gap, 195- 
 
 garhc, 194. 
 
 gentle, 188. 
 
 gently considered, 207. 
 
 gentry, 161. 
 
 germane, 206. 
 
 gest, 150. 
 
 gillyvors, 189. 
 
 give line, 156. 
 
 give out (=show), 164, 208. 
 
 glass (= hour-glass), 159. 
 
 glisters, 177, 182. 
 
 gloves (perfumed), 196. 
 
 go about, 196,205. 
 
 good deed, 150. 
 
 good now, 207. 
 
 good sooth, 194. 
 
 gossips (=sponsors), 169. 
 
 grace to boot! 151. 
 
 graceful, 209. 
 
 grafted in my serious trust, 
 
 158. 
 growth untried, 182. 
 guilty to, 202. 
 gust (=perceive), 157. 
 
 had like, 205. 
 
 haled, 176. 
 
 hammered of, 168. 
 
 hand (verb), 169, 199. 
 
 hand-fast, 206. 
 
 hangman, 201. 
 
 happily (=haply), 210. 
 
 happy man be 's dole ! 155. 
 
 harlot (adjective), 16S. 
 
 hath (plural), 148. 
 
 have at it, 198. 
 
 have of, 196. 
 
 having (=property), 205. 
 
 heat (=run a heat), 152. 
 
 heavings, 169. 
 
 heavy matters, 180. 
 
 hefts, 165. 
 
 hence (adjective), 163. 
 
 hent, 186. 
 
 hold (=have), 155. 
 
 holy (=good), 209, 214. 
 
 home (adverbial), 158, 212. 
 
 honey-mouthed, 168. 
 
 hot (= ardent), 205. 
 
 hovering (=wavering), 159. 
 
 boxes, 158. 
 
 i' fecks ! 153. 
 
 i' the name of me, 186. 
 
 I list not prophesy, 182. 
 
 I '11 keep my stables, etc , 
 166. 
 
 immodest, 176. 
 
 importance (= import), 210. 
 
 imposition cleared, the, 151. 
 
 in breath, 208. 
 
 in good time, 195. 
 
 in post, 168. 
 
 in question, 209. 
 
 in skill, 167. 
 
 incense, 208. 
 
 incertain, 207. 
 
 incertainties, 177. 
 
 incidency, 161. 
 
 industriously, 158. 
 
 influences, 162. 
 
 inkles, 196. 
 
 insinuate, 206. 
 
 intelligencing, 170. 
 
 intelligent, i6i. 
 
 intention, 154. 
 
 into my note, 148. 
 
 is grown into an unspeaka- 
 ble estate, 183. 
 
 it (possessive), 155, 176. 
 
 it is, 148. 
 
 it own, 172. 
 
 it's, 155, 158. 
 
 jar (=tick), 150. 
 jewel, 159, 210. 
 Julio Romano, 211. 
 justified, 214. 
 
 kills my heart, 186. 
 kiln-hole, 197. 
 knack, 197, 200. 
 
 lady Fortune, 188. 
 land-damn, 167. 
 lasting wink, 159. 
 lavender, 190. 
 lays it on, 185. 
 leash, 201. 
 leave me solely, 169. 
 let him there, 150. 
 level, 168, 175. 
 lewd-tongued, 172. 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 217 
 
 limber (=weak), 150. 
 
 lively, 2 1 2. 
 
 longs ( = belongs), 176. 
 
 look upon, 200, 213. 
 
 look upon his removedness, 
 
 183. 
 looks on alike, 200. 
 lordings, 151. 
 loss, 173, 179. 
 loud weather, 179. 
 lower messes, 157. 
 lozel, 172. 
 lunes, 168. 
 
 made, i8r. 
 made fault, 178. 
 maidenheads, igi. 
 makes her blood look out, 
 
 194. 
 maliciously, i59._ 
 mankind (adjective), 169. 
 mannerly distinguishment, 
 
 165. 
 marigold, igr. 
 marjoram, 190. 
 marted, 199. 
 masters, 212. 
 material, 157. 
 me (=for me), 182. 
 me (=1), 161. 
 mean (noun), 190. 
 meaner form, 159. 
 means (=tenors), 185. 
 measure, 206. 
 medal, 159. 
 
 medicinal (accent), 169. 
 medicine (^physician), 203. 
 men of hair, 198. 
 mess, 157, 187. 
 methought, 155. 
 midwife, 173. 
 milliner, 195. 
 
 minded (=reminded), 178. 
 mints, 190. 
 missingly, 1B3. 
 moe, 149, 198. 
 moiety, 169, 175, 207. 
 money 's a meddler, 198. 
 mort o' the deer, 153. 
 most worst, 178. 
 motion (=puppet-show), 186. 
 
 neat, 153. 
 
 neb, 156. 
 
 necklace amber, 196. 
 
 next (=nearest), 181. 
 
 no more but, 186. 
 
 not (transposed), 187, 195, 
 
 199. 
 note, 148, 149, 158, 183, 185. 
 nuptial, 188, 199. 
 
 o' life, 197. 
 
 o'er-dyed blacks, 153. 
 
 o'erween, 183. 
 
 of, 148. 
 
 of a fool, 178. 
 
 officed, 156. 
 
 on ( = in consequence of), 
 
 168. 
 on (=of), 157, 187, 202. 
 one self-born, 182. 
 opportune (accent), 201. 
 oppose against, 208. 
 out, alas! 191. 
 out of circumstance, 208. 
 over, 204. 
 owe (=own), 174. 
 oxlips, 193. 
 
 pace softly, 186. 
 
 paddling palms, 153. 
 
 pale (=paleness), 1S4. 
 
 pale primroses, 192. 
 
 pantler, 188. 
 
 part (^depart), 149. 
 
 part (=divide), 149. 
 
 partake (=impart), 214. 
 
 parts (=actions), 161. 
 
 pash, 153. 
 
 passing (adverb), 198. 
 
 peer (=appear), 184, 187. 
 
 perfect (^certain), 179. 
 
 petition (=appeal), 178. 
 
 pettitoes, 204. 
 
 pheasant, 206. 
 
 physics the subject, 148. 
 
 picking on 's teelh, 206. 
 
 picture ( = painted statue), 
 
 212. 
 piece (=add to), 211. 
 piece up, 213. 
 piedness, 190. 
 pin and web, 158. 
 pinched, 165. 
 places (=honours), 162. 
 plucks, 183, 201. 
 point forth, 202. 
 points (=laces), 196. 
 poking-sticks, 196. 
 pomander, 203. 
 ponderous, 202. 
 posterns, 162. 
 pound (plural), 185. 
 practice (=plot), 177. 
 pranked up, 187. 
 predominant, 157. 
 pregnant by circumstance, 
 
 210. 
 preposterous, 211. 
 present (=instant), 173, 179. 
 presently, 168. 
 pretence (=intention), 174. 
 prig, 186. 
 professed, 163. 
 proper (=own), 172. 
 
 Proserpina, 191. 
 pugging, 185. 
 purgation, 174. 
 Puritan, 185. 
 push (=impulse), 214. 
 put us to 't, 149, 194. 
 putter-on, 167. 
 
 queen it, 200. 
 queens (figurative), 194. 
 question (=talk), 183. 
 quick ( = alive), 194. 
 quoifs, 196. 
 
 race (=root), 186. 
 raisins o' the sun, 186. 
 rash (=quick-acting), 159. 
 reared to worship, 159. 
 reason (= there is reason), 
 
 199. 
 red-looked, 168. 
 regard (=look>, 161. 
 relish, 167, 211. 
 remember thee, 178. 
 removed (=remote), 211. 
 repair (noun), 207. 
 replenished, 165. 
 require (=deserve), 173, 175. 
 resolve you, 212. 
 respecting, 207. 
 rest (=remain), 179. 
 review, 205. 
 rheums, 199. 
 rift, 208. 
 
 ripe (=urgent), 160. 
 rosemary, 189. 
 round (=whisper), 157. 
 royally attomeyed, 148. 
 rue, 189. 
 
 's (=us), 149. 
 
 sad (=serious), 198. 
 
 sap (=life), 203. 
 
 savory, 190. 
 
 scape, 180. _ 
 
 sealing the injury of tongues, 
 
 160. 
 sear (=brand), 165. 
 second (=helpful), 169. 
 seized (=fallen upon), 209. 
 seven-night, 149. 
 severals, 157. 
 shall 's, 156. 
 she (=her), 168. 
 she (=:woman), 199. 
 shed water out of fire, 178. 
 sheep-shearing feast, 185. 
 sheep-whistling, 207. 
 ship side, 180. 
 shoots, 153. 
 shore (verb), 207. 
 'shrew, 158. 
 shrewdly, 209. 
 
2i8 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 sighted like the basilisk, i6i. 
 
 silly (=poor, petty), 184. 
 
 since (=when), 210. 
 
 singularities, 212. 
 
 sir, 157, 199. 
 
 sir, my liege, 210. 
 
 sitting, 203. 
 
 skill (=reason), 194. 
 
 sleeve-band, 196. 
 
 sneaping, 149. 
 
 so (=as), 157. 
 
 so (omitted), 148, 203, 208. 
 
 so . . . whose, 156, 
 
 soaking, 157. 
 
 so-forth, 157. 
 
 something (adverb), 155, 207. 
 
 sooth, 195. 
 
 sped, 161, 179. 
 
 speed (=fortune), 177. 
 
 spices, 178. 
 
 spider (venomous), 164. 
 
 spirit (monosyllable), 173. 
 
 sprightly (adverb), 188. 
 
 springe, 184. 
 
 square, 196. 
 
 squared, 179, 208. 
 
 squash, 155. 
 
 squire, 156. 
 
 squire (=square), 199. 
 
 starred most unluckily, 176. 
 
 strained (=twisted), 175. 
 
 straited, 199. 
 
 strength of limit, 176. 
 
 stretch-mouthed, 195. 
 
 strike (of planets), 157. 
 
 stuffed sufficiency, 168. 
 
 subject (=peop]e), 148. 
 
 success (=succession;, 161. 
 
 such . . . that, 158. 
 
 such . . . which, 148, 206. 
 
 surprised (=overcame), 174. 
 
 swear by this sword, 172, 
 
 176. 
 swear over, 162. 
 sworn to show myself a glass, 
 
 187. 
 
 table-book, 204. 
 take (=captivate), 174. 
 take eggs for money, 155. 
 take in (= conquer), 203. 
 
 take your patience to you, 
 
 179. 
 taken with the manner, 205. 
 tall fellow of thy hands, 211. 
 tardied, 177. 
 tawdry-lace, 197. 
 tell (=count), 195. 
 tender (=present), 207. 
 that (af&x), 151. 
 that (=0 that), 149. 
 thereabouts, 161. 
 thereto (=besides), 161. 
 thick (verb), 156. 
 thorough (=through), 177. 
 those of your fact, 176. 
 three-man songmen, 1F5. 
 three-pile, 184. 
 thriving, 168. 
 throughly, 165. 
 tincture (=colour), 178. 
 to my power, 212. 
 tods, 184. 
 touze, 206. 
 toys. -79. 
 traitorly, 207. 
 tremor cordis, 153. 
 troll-my-dames, 186. 
 troth-plight, 214. 
 trumpet (=trumpeter), 168. 
 trunk (=body), 162. 
 tug, 201. 
 turtles (=doves), 194, 214. 
 
 unbraided, 196. 
 unclasped my practice, 177. 
 uncurrent, 175. 
 undergo, 202. 
 uneasy, 183. 
 unfurnish, 209. 
 unintelligent, 148. 
 imkindness, 202. 
 unrolled, 186. 
 unsphere the stars, 150. 
 unthought-on, 202. 
 unthrifty to our knowledge, 
 
 211. 
 utter (=cause to pass), 198. 
 
 valley, 170. 
 vast (noun), 148. 
 very sooth, 149. 
 
 vessel of like sorrow, 179. 
 vice (verb), 162. 
 villain, 154. 
 violets dim, 192. 
 virginalling, 153. 
 visible an enemy, 210. 
 visitation, 148, 202, 208. 
 vulgars, 165. 
 
 wafting his eyes, 160. 
 waits upon worn times, 209. 
 want (=be without), 183. 
 wanted less impudence, etc., 
 
 175- 
 ward, 149. 
 warden pies, 185. 
 watery star, 148. 
 weak-hinged, 172. 
 wearing (=dress), 187. 
 weather-bitten, 210. 
 weeds (=garments), 187. 
 welkin (adjective), 154. 
 well (of the dead), 207. 
 what lady she, 150. 
 whiles, 209. 
 
 whisper (transitive), 162. 
 whistle off', 197. 
 Whitsun pastorals, 194. 
 who (=^which), 203. 
 who (^whom), 204. 
 whoo-bub, 204. 
 wild (=rash), 167. 
 wilful-negligent, 158. 
 wit (=inventive power), 206. 
 wit (= wisdom), 168. 
 with (=by), 209, 213. 
 with a custom, 187. 
 without-door, 165. 
 without more overture, 167. 
 woe the while! 177. 
 woman-tired, 170. 
 wondering, 182. 
 worst, 169. 
 
 worth (^fortune), 210. 
 worthy (^valuable), 195. 
 wotting, 175. 
 wracked, 211. 
 wrought, 213. 
 
 yellow, 170. 
 yest, 180. 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 WITH NOTES BY WM. J. ROLFE, A.M, 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VEN 
 
 ICE. 
 THE TEMPEST. 
 JULIUS C^SAR. 
 HAMLET. 
 
 HENRY THE FIFTH. 
 MACBETH. 
 TWELFTH NIGHT. 
 AS YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 HENRY THE EIGHTH. 
 RICHARD THE SECOND. 
 A MIDSUMMER. NIGHT'S 
 
 DREAM. 
 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTH- 
 ING. 
 ROMEO AND JULIET. 
 OTHELLO. 
 WINTER'S TALE. 
 (In Press.) 
 
 Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 70 Cents per Volume; Paper, 
 50 Cents per Volume. 
 
 In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
 the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
 same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational purposes. 
 The chief requisites of such a work are a pure text (expurgated, if neces- 
 sary), and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 
 
 Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
 ceded by an Introduction containing the " History of the Play," the 
 " Sources of the Plot," and " Critical Comments on the Play." 
 
 Fro7n Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the '' N'ew 
 Va riorum Shakespeare. ' ' 
 
 In my opinion Mr. Rolfe's series of Shakespeare's Plays is thoroughly 
 admirable. No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed 
 with the conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which 
 they are edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are writ- 
 ten Mr. Rolfe never loses sight of, but like "a well-experienced archer 
 hits the mark his eye doth level at." 
 
Rolfe''s Shakespeare. 
 
 From F. J. Furnivall, Director of the New Shakspere Society^ London. 
 
 The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
 over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
 as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
 editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
 and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
 charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
 But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
 Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
 and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
 chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
 at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
 And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
 hard words from a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelped, 
 catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
 individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 
 
 From Prof. Edv^ard Dowden, LL.D., of the University of Dublin, 
 Author of '■'■ Shakspere : His Mind atid Art.'^ 
 I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
 home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
 tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
 study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make 
 a book " pleasant to the eyes " (as well as " to be desired to make one 
 wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 
 
 From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of '' Shakespearian Grammar:' 
 I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
 mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
 mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
 fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 
 
 Fro7n Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
 Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. 
 In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
 educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 
 
Rolfe's Shakespeare. 
 
 From Prof, F. J. Child, of Harvard University. 
 
 I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every 
 respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the 
 opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be 
 thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
 place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
 and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. 
 You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 
 
 Under date of July 25, 1879, Prof. Child adds : Mr. Rolfe's editions 
 of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether 
 for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
 students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They 
 show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in 
 scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
 have expressed of the excellence of these books. 
 
 From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. 
 
 I regard your own work as of the highest merit, while you have turned 
 the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
 higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
 then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- 
 vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, 
 or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
 will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
 pily begun. 
 
 From the Examiner and Chronicle, N. Y. 
 
 We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
 speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens 
 of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other 
 merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
 perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in 
 order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
 into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops 
 there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
 tionately grateful for it. 
 
Rolfe^s Shakespeare. 
 
 From the N. Y. Times. 
 This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
 better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
 and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
 the poet's moods and purposes. 
 
 From the Pacific School Journal, San Francisco. 
 This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
 aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- 
 poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
 and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained 
 by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
 cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books. 
 . . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love 
 for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in 
 cultivating a pure and refined taste. 
 
 From the Christian Union, N. Y. 
 Mr. W. J. Rolfe's capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
 tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
 in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the 
 necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. 
 
 From the Academy, London. 
 Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
 speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones 
 in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give 
 the Student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
 while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . 
 Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words 
 and Phrases explained." 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 [[1^^ Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the 
 United States, on receipt of the Price. 
 
OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 
 SELECT POEMS OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH. Edited, 
 with Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
 Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
 trated. i6mo, Paper, 50 cents ; Cloth, 70 cents. {^Uni- 
 form with Rolfe' s Shakespeare.) 
 
 The carefully arranged editions of " The Merchant of Venice " and 
 other of Shakespeare's plays prepared by Mr. William J. Rolfe for the 
 use of students will be remembered with pleasure by many readers, and 
 they will welcome another volume of a similar character from the same 
 source, in the form of the " Select Poems of Oliver Goldsmith," edited 
 with notes fuller than those of any other known edition, many of them 
 original with the editor. — Boston Transcript. 
 
 Mr. Rolfe is doing very useful work in the preparation of compact 
 hand-books for study in English literature. His own personal culture, 
 and his long experience as a teacher, give him good knowledge of what 
 is wanted in this way. — The Coiigregatiojialist, Boston. 
 
 Mr. Rolfe has prefixed to the Poems selections illustrative of Gold- 
 smith's character as a man and grade as a poet, from sketches by Ma- 
 caulay, Thackeray, George Colman, Thomas Campbell, John Forster, 
 and Washington Irving. He has also appended, at the end of the 
 volume, a body of scholarly notes explaining and illustrating the poems, 
 and dealing with the times in which they were written, as well as the 
 incidents and circumstances attending their composition. — Ckristiaji 
 Intelligencer^ N. Y. 
 
 The notes are just and discriminating in tone, and supply all that is 
 necessary either for understanding the thought of the several poems, or 
 for a critical study of the language. The use of such books in the school- 
 room cannot but contribute largely toward putting the study of English 
 literature upon a sound basis ; and many an adult reader would find in 
 the present volume an excellent opportunity for becoming critically ac- 
 quainted with one of the greatest of last century's poets. — Appleton''s 
 yoiirnal, N. Y. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, 07t receipt cf 
 the price. 
 
THOMAS GRAY. 
 
 SELECT POEMS OF THOMAS GRAY. Edited, with 
 Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
 Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
 trated. Square i6mo. Paper, 50 cents ; Cloth, 70 cents. 
 {^Uniform with Rolfe' s Shakespeare.) 
 
 Mr. Rolfe has done his work in a manner that comes as near to per- 
 fection as man can approach. He knows his subject so well that he is 
 competent to instruct all in it ; and readers will find an immense amount 
 of knowledge in his elegant volume, all set forth in the most admirable 
 order, and breathing the most liberal and enlightened spirit, he being a 
 warm appreciator of the divinity of genius. — Boston Traveller. 
 
 The great merit of these books lie in their carefully-edited text, and in 
 the fulness of their explanatory notes. Mr. Rolfe is not satisfied with 
 simply expounding, but he explores the entire field of English literature, 
 and therefrom gathers a multitude of illustrations that are interesting in 
 themselves and valuable as a commentary on the text. He not only in- 
 structs, but stimulates his readers to fresh exertion ; and it is this stimu- 
 lation that makes his labors so productive in the school-room. — Saturday 
 Evening Gazette, Boston. 
 
 Mr. William J. Rolfe, to whom English literature is largely indebted 
 for annotated and richly-illustrated editions of several of Shakespeare's 
 Plays, has treated the " Select Poems of Thomas Gray" in the same way 
 — ^just as he had previously dealt with the best of Goldsmith's poems. — 
 The Press, Phila. 
 
 Mr. Rolfe's edition of Thomas Gray's select poems is marked by the 
 same discriminating taste as his other classics. — Springfield Republican. 
 
 Mr. Rolfe's rare abilities as a teacher and his fine scholarly tastes ena- 
 ble him to prepare a classic like this in the best manner for school use. 
 There could be no better exercise for the advanced classes in our schools 
 than the critical study of our best authors, and the volumes that Mr. Rolfe 
 has prepared will hasten the time when the study of mere form will give 
 place to the study of the spirit of our literature. — Louisville Courier- 
 yournal. 
 
 An elegant and scholarly little volume. — Christian Intelligencer, N. Y. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, 071 receipt of tJu 
 price and one-sixth additional for postage.