[][]

CURSORY CRITICISMS ON THE EDITION OF SHAKSPEARE PUBLISHED BY EDMOND MALONE.

A FAULCON, TOW'RING IN HER PRIDE OF PLACE,
WAS BY A MOUSING OWL HAWK'D AT AND KILL'D.
MACBETH.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR HOOKHAM AND CARPENTER, NEW AND OLD BOND-STREET.

M DCC XCII.

TO THE MONTHLY AND CRITICAL REVIEWERS.

[]
GENTLEMEN,

I PREFIX this addreſs in order to induce you, before you paſs ſentence on the following pages, to read them through: "Strike, but hear!" To enable you to do this I have deſired my publiſhers to ſend each of you a copy; for, though you may have Jack the Giant-killers coat, it has never been ſuſpected that you poſſeſs Fortunatus's purſe; and the title of a book, read in a newſpaper, or through a ſhop-window, may not be always a ſufficient ground for unqualifyed condemnation and virulent abuſe.

On ſecond thoughts, however, I believe I might as well have ſaved them the trouble; ſince you will, moſt probably, allow Mr. Malone the grateful privilege of reviewing it himſelf: the virtue and honour [iv]of this literary hero frequently condeſcending to bring down an unſuſpicious enemy from the maſked battery of a Review. And yet, I ſee, one of your "gangs"* has the effrontery to boaſt that it

—Nothing extenuates,
Nor ſets down aught in malice.

That you "nothing extenuate," unleſs it be in favour of yourſelves or your employers, I can eaſily believe; but the next line certainly requires, if not a different reading, an oppoſite conſtruction. It ſuits your purpoſe, no doubt, to delude the unwary by falſe colours; as the devil, when he commences innkeeper, hangs out an angel for his ſign. The real meaning, however, is that you ‘—ſet down ALL in malice.’ Shakſpears morality, in the hands of a Reviewer, is to be read backward, like a witch's prayer.

[v]Accuſtomed as you are to every ſpecies of miſrepreſentation, you muſt by no means do me the injuſtice to ſay that I treat you with contempt. For, though a literary proſtitute be, in reality, a moſt deſpicable character, I cannot but conſider you in, if not a far ſuperior, at leaſt, a very different light;—as two formidable, in ſhort, and miſchievous gangs of nocturnal banditti, or inviſible footpads, equally cowardly and malignant, who attack when there can be no defence, and aſſaſſinate or deſtroy where you cannot plunder. And yet, ſurpriſing as it is, while offenders of comparative inſignificance are almoſt every day expoſed on pillories, or periſhing in dungeons, you have the luck to eſcape the reſentment of the injured, and the vengeance of the law! Upon my word, gentlemen, I admire your good fortune, though I cannot perſuade myſelf you deſerve it; and, indeed, as guilt is only hardened by impunity, the ſooner, I think, you are brought to juſtice the better. Nor is this event, perhaps, at ſo great a diſtance as you may imagine: even the Monſter, you know, was caught at laſt; and, though you poſſibly conceive this brother aſſaſſin to have been as inferior to you in cunning, as he certainly was in criminality, it will not be amiſs to let his fate be a warning to you.

I ſhall make no apology for having taken up ſo much of your time, which would, moſt probably, have been worſe employed. You may now proceed [vi]to gratify your malice, and take your revenge; and (as I know you are fond of Scripture quotations) the Lord reward you according to your works!

I am, Gentlemen,
Your humble ſervant.

PREFACE.

[]

MR. MALONE, in the year 1780, when publiſhing a Supplement to Shakſpeare of plays which he never wrote, modeſtly remarked that by a diligent collation of all the old copies thitherto diſcovered, and the judicious reſtoration of ancient readings, the text of this author ſeemed then finally ſettled. Since that period, however, he has been labouring "with unceaſing ſolicitude," for the ſpace of "eight years" to convince the public that he had, if not directly aſſerted the thing which was not, at leaſt gone a little further than was conſiſtent with the exact ſtate of the caſe. For, if the text had been already diligently collated with all the old copies, why ſhould he make ſuch a parade of having collated it himſelf? If it had not been ſo collated, why ſhould he ſay it had? This fact is therefor manifeſt, upon Mr. Malones own evidence, that the text of Shakſpeare had never been collated, whether diligently or not, with all or any of the old copies, by any perſon before Mr. Malone. To which one may add that even this great critics collation has not been either ſo diligent or ſo ſucceſsful as he would [viii]induce us to believe;* and alſo that it would have been much better for the ſaid text if he had never collated it at all. By a judicious reſtoration of ancient readings, Mr. Malone ſeems to underſtand the replacing of all the groſs and palpable blunders of the firſt folio, from which it has been the labour of ſuch [vii]critics as Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Warburton, and Hanmer to purge the text. Mr. Malone is a critic of a very different deſcription.

I have thought proper, in the following pages, to make a few obſervations on ſome of Mr. Malones notes. Now Mr. Malone will take this exceedingly ill; for Mr. Malone has a very high opinion of himſelf, and a very mean one of every body elſe. But I confeſs I do not ſeek to pleaſe Mr. Malone: I wiſh to reſcue the language and ſenſe of an admirable author from the barbariſm and corruption they have acquired in paſſing through the hands of this incompetent and unworthy editor. In a word, I mean to convict and not to convince him.

The total want of ear and judgement, under which Mr. Malone will be found to labour, is undoubtedly a natural defect, for which he would be an [viii]object rather of pity than of reprehenſion, if he had not forced himſelf into an employment for which ear and judgement were eſſential, and nature, of courſe, in depriving him of thoſe indiſpenſable requiſites, had utterly diſqualifyed him. Want of courage, in a common man, may be conſidered as mere weakneſs of nerves; in a commander, it is puniſhed with death.

But it is not the want of ear and judgement only of which I have to accuſe Mr. Malone: he ſtands charged with divers other high crimes and miſdemeanors againſt the divine majeſty of our ſovereign lord of the drama; with deforming his text, and degrading his margin, by intentional corruption, flagrant miſrepreſentation, malignant hypercriticiſm, and unexampled ſcurrility. Theſe charges ſhall be proved—not, as Mr. Malone proves things, by groundleſs opinion and confident aſſertion, but—by fact, argument, and demonſtration. How ſayeſt thou, culprit? Guilty or not guilty?

Whoever may think fit to cenſure the language of theſe "criticiſms," Mr. Malone has no ſuch right; having himſelf rifled the blooming beds of Billings-gate to grace his commentaries with the choiceſt rhetorical flowers.* It is ſurely lawful to return an [ix]enemy the ſhot of his own poiſoned arrows: and, as for the reſt, whatever reſpect may be due to the errors of genius, the blunders of ignorance and preſumption deſerve no quarter.

*⁎* Since theſe ſheets were printed off, Mr. Malone has iſſued propoſals for a new and ſplendid edition of the plays and poems of this admired author, IN FIFTEEN VOLUMES ROYAL QUARTO!!! The reciprocal good opinion which the public and Mr. Malone appear to entertain of each other does both parties infinite honour; the one from his ſingular confidence, the other from its refined taſte. Having ſufficiently, and, I truſt, ſatisfactorily, proved how peculiarly qualifyed this ingenious gentleman is for an editor of our great poet, I have only to add my ſincereſt wiſhes that completion of ſo magnificent a work may happen in time to afford me another equally favorable opportunity of giving my humble teſtimony to his very extraordinary merit.

O! while, along the ſtream of time, thy name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame,
Say, ſhall my little bark attendant ſail,
Purſue the triumph, and partake the gale?

CURSORY CRITICISMS, &c.

[]

VOL. I.

PART I.

PREFACE. PP. xix. xxi. &c.

THERE cannot well be a more flagrant proof of diſingenuity in the ſupport of a particular opinion than is here manifeſted by the editor in his treatment of the ſecond folio, in order to ſubſtantiate his poſition "that the editor of that book was intirely ignorant of our poet phraſeology and metre; and that various alterations were made by him, in conſequence of that ignorance, which render his edition of no value whatever." Many of the inſtances adduced in ſupport of this aſſertion are mere ſelf-evident errors of the preſs, the accidental omiſſion or inſertion of a ſingle word, or the inadvertent tranſpoſition of a couple of letters;* faults to which every copy is [2]equally ſubject; and conſequently prove that editors ignorance much leſs than his accuſers malice; which is the more remarkable as he has actually availed himſelf of a very conſiderable number of the corrections of the identical edition which he thus anxiously labours to depreciate as a ſink of ignorance and corruption. It muſt be evident, that by this partial mode of proceeding, the ſame charge might be brought home not only to the firſt folio, but to almoſt any edition of any author. A perſon who had only truth and juſtice in view would have exhibited a faithful ſtatement, a fair debtor and creditor account of the merits and defects of the two editions. But this method, Mr. Malone is conſcious, ſo far from anſwering his purpoſe, would have completely disproved and give the lye direct to his accuſation; ſince, in fact, for one inſtance of an alteration for the worſe it will be eaſy to produce ten inſtances of alterations for the better, and ſuch, at the ſame time, as not only no ignorant or capricious perſon, but not even a man of ſenſe and ſagacity would have hit upon, without the aſſiſtance of manuſcript corrections or perſonal information: and after all, it is not in the leaſt improbable that both editions were printed by one and the ſame perſon, there being only nine years difference in their dates, and the one, whether intentionally or otherwiſe, juſt as inaccurate as the other. Both editors, at leaſt, if two there were, were Shakſpeares contemporaries; probably [3]his acquaintance; poſſibly his friends; and, in all events, equally familiar with the language of his time and his peculiar phraſeology. But, leaving Mr. Malones partiality and ingratitude out of the queſtion, I am by no means diſpoſed to admit his judgement as to any ones ignorance of Shakſpeares phraſeology and metre: in neither of which, I believe, we ſhall find him a proficient. Some of theſe identical inſtances prove the direct reverſe of what they are brought to do, and convict the proſecutor of both ignorance and malignity.

I. "His[i. e. the ſecond editors] ignorance of Shakſpeares phraſeology" conſiſts in printing—

"I can go no further," inſtead of "I can not go no further;"

"I appointed him," inſtead of "I am appointed him," the ſyllable having ſlipped out in the preſs:

"The way to ſtudy death," inſtead of "the way to duſty death;" a mere accidental tranſpoſition of two letters; which is conſtantly happening. The following is of more conſequence.

"The ſeventh [fifth] ſcene of the fourth act of this play [Antony and Cleopatra] concludes with theſe words:—"Diſpatch,—Enobarbus!" Anthony, who, is the ſpeaker, deſires his attendant Eros to diſpatch, and then pronounces the name Enobarbus, who had recently deſerted him, and whoſe loſs he here laments. But there being no perſon in the ſcene but Eros, and the point being inadvertently omitted [4]after the word diſpatch, the editor of the ſecond folio ſuppoſed that Enobarbus muſt have been an error of the preſs, and therefore reads; ‘"Diſpatch, Eros."’

Such is Mr. Malones account of the matter, in which it is only neceſſary to ſupply a ſmall omiſſion of the very accurate writer, viz. that the line, of which the two words in queſtion are part, is intended for metre, of which he is too good a judge for the omiſſion to have been deſigned. This intention, however, would be defeated by the word Enobarbus; unleſs we are to accent it thus:

—my fortunes have
Corrupted honeſt men. Diſpatch.—Enōbārbūs?

Antony is continually repeating the name of Eros; he does it no leſs than five times in the preceding ſcene, and once before in this. The manuſcript, it is probable, had, in this place, only an E. of which the original printer improperly made Enobarbus: this miſtake muſt have been ſome how or other made known to the editor of the ſecond folio, moſt likely by a MS. correction in the copy he printed from; he has therefor rightly corrected the word, but, at the ſame time, has neglected to obſerve the tranſpoſition which had been made by his predeceſſor (ſuppoſing the printer of each copy two different perſons). Take the line, therefor, as Shakſpeare [5]gave it, and let us acknowlege our obligation to the ſecond folio, for ſo valuable an alteration: ‘Corrupted honeſt men.—Eros! diſpatch. If he had meant that Anthony ſhould apoſtrophiſe his abſent officer, he would have given it thus: ‘Corrupted honeſt men.—O Enobarbus! The editor of the ſecond folio was therefor right in ſuppoſing, if indeed he was not ſure, "that Enobarbus muſt have been an error of the preſs."

"In K. Henry VIII. are theſe lines

"—If we did think
"His contemplation were above the earth,—"

Not underſtanding this phraſeology, and ſuppoſing that were muſt require a noun in the plural number, he reads:

"—If we did think
His contemplations were above the earth, &c."

Now, one would be glad to know where there is a ſingle perſon to be found, ſetting aſide this petulant dogmatiſt, who ever heard of ſuch a phraſeology, or who does not know "that were muſt require a noun in the plural number."

It would be well if charges of no better foundation or greater ſtrength could be brought againſt the ignorance of M. Malone.

[6]II. "Let us now examine how far he was acquainted with the metre of theſe plays." Ay marry, now for it; this is a ſubject upon which we are quite at home.

"In the Winter's Tale, we find,—
"What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling?
"In leads, or oils?"—

"Not knowing that fires was uſed as a diſſyllable he added the word burning at the end of the line."

He did ſo; and it will be evident to every one who can read that the addition was abſolutely neceſſary, in point of quantity, to the perfection of the line. Mr. Malone can not read, and is totally ignorant of the conſequences of his own abſurd ideas; he could never elſe have thought ſuch a line as the following conſiſtent with the laws of metre: ‘"What wheels? racks? fi-ers? what flaying? boiling? Thus, however, he inſiſts that Shakſpeare intended us to read—ſwor-en, cha-rums, inſtead of ſworn, charms; ſu-ar, for ſure, &c. &c. converting one ſyllable into two, two into three or four and ſo on.

Inſtead of ‘"And ſo to arms, victorious noble father,"’ with the ſecond folio, we are to read [7] ‘"And ſo to a-rums, vic-to-rī-ous father,"’ becauſe noble, or ſome other word of equal quantity, has been omited by the printer of the firſt.

Inſtead of ‘"But prove it, Henry, and thou ſhalt be king."’ As given by the editor of the ſecond folio, "not knowing Henry to be uſed as a triſyllable," we are to read: ‘"Prove it He-nē-ry, and ſhalt be king."’

Inſtead of ‘"Pours into captains wounds! ha! baniſhment.’ pours being a diſſyllable, we are to adopt the following harmonious line: ‘"Po-ūrs in-tō cap-tāins wounds! baniſhment.’

Inſtead of ‘She's tickled now, her fume can need no ſpurs.’ he thinks it more in the authors manner to read: ‘"She's tickclēd now; hēr fume needs no ſpurs,"’

Inſtead of

"The body of the city, country, court:"
"The body of ci-ty, coun-tē-ry, court."

[8]And Inſtead of

"Burn hotter than my faith. O but dear ſir.
"Bu-ūrn hot-tēr than mȳ faith. O but ſir."

"The editor, indeed" he ſays, "was even ignorant of the author's manner of accenting words, for in the Tempeſt, where we find,

"—Spirits, which by mine art
"I have from their confines call'd to enact
"My preſent fancies,"—

he exhibits the ſecond line thus: ‘"I have from all their cònfines call'd to enact."’ It is ſomewhat lucky, however, for the editor of the ſecond folio, that we are able to produce in his defence no leſs deciſive a teſtimony than that of Shakſpeare himſelf. The word in queſtion occurs in Julius Caeſar:

"And Caeſar's ſpirit, ranging for revenge,
"Shall, on theſe cònfines, with a monarch's voice,
"Cry havock, and let ſlip the dogs of war."

The reader will now judge for himſelf which of theſe two editors, the proſecutor or defendant, is moſt ignorant of his authors "phraſeology, metre," and "manner of accenting words."

"Had he conſulted the original quarto," ſays M. Malone, "he would have found that the poet [9]wrote"—ſo and ſo. Well, but how if he could not get, or never heard of the original quarto? how then? Had he not, in common with every other editor, the right of ſupplying imperfections or correcting miſtakes, according to the beſt of his judgement? It is no imputation upon the ſagacity of Dr. Thirlby or ſir Thomas Hammer that they have ſuggeſted readings, which, however plauſible, are diſproved by the more recent diſcovery of the old quartos: all of which have not been yet ſeen, even by Mr. Malone; who has, at the ſame time, been indebted to chance or favour for many of the others; for which he has not, on every occaſion, made the moſt grateful or liberal return.

I ſhall now proceed to make the editor of the ſecond folio ſome amends for the injuſtice, malevolence, and perſonal abuſe of his Hibernian adverſary, by diſplaying a few inſtances not only of his actual ſuperiority to his predeceſſor (if, in fact, either edition had any other editor than the compoſitor of the preſs), but alſo where that ſuperiority is admitted by Mr. Malones own adoption. The latter caſe is diſtinguiſhed by an aſteriſk. It was once my intention to have given, what Mr. Malone ought to have done, a fair and faithful collation of the various readings of the two editions; but the ſpace and preſs-work required even by the following ſpecimen and the neceſſity I ſhould have thought myſelf under of going through them a ſecond time, which no one [10]needs to be told is a word of time and patience, will be a ſufficient apology for not having carryed it into effect at preſent. However, as Mr. Malone has preſerved all the errors of the ſecond folio, and I ſhall exhibit a conſiderable number, at leaſt, of its emendations, the reader will, between us, have a tolerably complete view of the controverſy. The firſt reading is that of the folio 1623, the other that of the folio 1632.

TEMPEST.
I'll ſhew thee every fertile inch o'th' iſland.

I'l ſhew thee every fertile inch o'th' ile.
—who t'advance and who To traſh for overtopping.

—whom t'advance and whom To traſh for overtopping.
If I ſhould ſay I ſaw ſuch iſlands.

If I ſhould ſay I ſaw ſuch iſlanders. *
Earths increaſe, foiſon plenty.

Earths increaſe, and foiſon plenty.
You brother mine that entertaine ambition.

You brother mine that entertain'd ambition.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
[11]
You conclude then that may maſter is a ſhepherd, and I ſheep.

You conclude then that my maſter is a ſhepherd, and I a ſheep. *
You have ceſtern'd me.

You have teſtern'd me. *
I ſee you have a months mind to them.

I ſee you have a monthes mind to them.
With Valentinus in the emperors court.

With Valentino in the emperors court.
If thou wilt go to the alehouſe.

If thou wilt go to the alehouſe, ſo, *
And inſtances of infinite of love.

And inſtances as infinite of love. *
That they ſhould harbour where their lord ſhould be.

That they ſhould harbour where their lord would be.
Who would'ſt thou ſtrike.

Whom would'ſt thou ſtrike. *
Who Silvia?

Whom Silvia? *
Therefore know thee for this I entertain thee.

Therefore know thou for this I entertain thee. *

[12]

It ſeems you lov'd not her not leave her token.

It ſeems you lov'd not her to leave her token.
Which of you ſaw Eglamour of late.

Which of you ſaw ſir Eglamour of late.*
For ſuch is a friend now, treacherous man.

For ſuch is a friend now thou treacherous man.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.
Hold ſirrah, bear theſe letters tightly.

Hold ſirrah, bear theſe letters rightly.
We cannot miſuſe enough.

We cannot miſuſe him enough.*
Let him ſtrike the old woman.

Let him not ſtrike the old woman.*
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
Where youth and coſt witleſs bravery keeps.

Where youth and coſt and witleſs bravery keeps.*
More reaſons in this action.

More reaſons for this action.
May call it again. Well believe this.

May call it back again. Well, believe this.

[13]

Than the ſoft myrtle, but man proud man.

Than the ſoft myrtle, O but man, proud man.
Bring them to ſpeak where I may be conceal'd.
Bring them to ſpeak where I may be conceal'd.
Yet near them.
The prenzie Angelo.

The princely Angelo.*
In prenzie guards.

In princely guards.*
That age ache periurie and impriſonment.

That age ache penurie and impriſonment.*
Was affianced to her oath.

Was affianced to her by oath.*
From our faults as faults from ſeeming free.

Free from our faults, as faults from ſeeming free.
Firſt let her ſhew your face.

Firſt let her ſhew her face.*
Although by confutation they are ours.

Although by confiſcation they are ours.*
COMEDY OF ERRORS.
[14]
And by me had not our hap been bad.

And by me too had not our hap been bad.*
A mean woman was delivered.

A poor mean woman was delivered.*
Which being violently born up.

Which being violently born upon.*
Gave healthful welcome to their ſhipwreck'd gueſts.

Gave helpful welcome to their ſhipwreck'd gueſts.*
What have befall'n of them and they till now.

What hath befall'n of them and thee till now.*
That his attendant (ſo his caſe was like).

That his attendant (for his caſe was like).*
Look when I ſerve him ſo he takes it.

Look when I ſerve him ſo he takes it ill.
Would that a love he would detain.

Would that alone he would detain.*
Here is no time for all things.

There is no time for all things.*
In no time to recover hair loſt by nature.

No time to recover hair loſt by nature.*

[15]

We talk with goblins owls and ſprites.

We talk with goblins owls and elves [elviſh] ſprites.*
I'll meet you at that place ſome hour hence.

I'll meet you at the place ſome hour ſir hence.
Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.

Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.
To drown me in thy ſiſter flood of tears.

To drown me in thy ſiſters flood of tears.
And as a bud I'll take thee and there lie.

And as a bed I'll take thee and there lie.*
Making war againſt her heir.

Making war againſt her hair.*
And then, ſir, ſhe bears away our fraughtage, ſir.

Then, ſir, ſhe bears away our fraughtage, ſir.
Oh his hearts meteors tilting in his face.

Of his hearts meteors tilting in his face.
Thus he, unknown to me, ſhould be in debt.

That he unknown to me ſhould be in debt.
Maſter, if do, expect ſpoon meat.

Maſter, if you do, expect ſpoon meat.*
LOVES LABOUR LOST.
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms.

Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms.*

[16]

Well, I will love, write, ſigh, pray, ſue, groan.

Well, I will love, write, ſigh, pray, ſue and groan.
The prayful princeſs—

The praiſeful princeſs.*
With men like men, of inconſtancy.

With men like men, of ſtrange inconſtancy.
It mourns that painting uſurping hair.

It mourns that painting and uſurping hair.
And ſhape his ſervice wholly to my device.

And ſhape his ſervice wholly to my beheſts.*
As gravitys revolt to wantons be.

As gravitys revolt to wantonneſs.*
But, while 'tis ſpoke, each turn away his face.

But while 'tis ſpoke each turn away her face.*
The reſt will e'er come in if he be out.

The reſt will ne'er come in if he be out.
They were all in lamentable caſes.

O they were all in lamentable caſes.
This jeſt is dry to me.—Gentle ſweet.

This jeſt is dry to me.—fair, gentle ſweet.
MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM.
[17]
This man hath bewitched the boſom of my child.

This hath bewitch'd the boſom of my child.*
Unto his lordſhip whoſe unwiſh'd yoke.

Unto his lordſhip to whoſe unwiſh'd yoke.
For I am ſick when I do look on you.

For I am ſick when I do look on thee.*
Tranſparent Helena, Nature ſhews art.

Tranſparent Helena, Nature here ſhews art.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
If a Chriſtian do not play the knave and get thee.

If a Chriſtian did not play the knave and get thee.*
So begone, you are ſped.

So begone ſir, you are ſped.*
There is no voice ſo ſimple.

There is no vice ſo ſimple.*
More rich than onely to ſtand high in your account.

More rich than to ſtand high in your account.
And ne'er a true one. In ſuch a night.

And ne'er a true one. And in ſuch a night.
AS YOU LIKE IT.
After my flight. Now go in we content.

After my flight. Now go we in content.*

[18]

To that which had too muſt.

To that which had too much.*
Know you not maſter to ſeeme kind of men

Know you not maſter to ſome kind of men.*
Wearing thy hearer in thy miſtreſs praiſe

Wearying thy hearer in thy miſtreſs praiſe.*
—ſearching of they would.

—ſearching of they [thy] wound.*
And I remember the kiſſing of her batler.

And I remember the kiſſing of her batlet.
Good even to your friend.

Good even to you friend.*
Thou art right welcome as thy maſters is.

Thou art right welcome as thy maſter is.*
Have more cauſe to hate him than to love him.

I have more cauſe, &c.
Let me better acquainted with thee.

Let me be better acquainted with thee.*
In which by often rumination.

In which my often rumination.*
Like a ripe ſiſter: the woman low.

Like a ripe ſiſter: but the woman low.
My gentle Phebe did bid me give you this.

My gentle Phebe bid me give you this.
TAMING OF THE SHREW.
[19]
Were ſhe is as rough.

Were ſhe as rough.*
Of all thy ſuitors here I charge tell.

Of all thy ſuitors here I charge thee tell.*
No ſuch ſir, as you, if me you mean.

No ſuch jade ſir, as you, if me you mean.*
Much more a ſhrew of impatient humour.

Much more a ſhrew of thy impatient humour.*
As before imparted to your worſhip.

As I before imparted to your worſhip.*
As much news as wilt thou.

As much news as thou wilt.*
I fear it is too cholerick a meat.

I fear it is too phlegmatick a meat.
Then at my lodging, an it like you.

Then at my lodging, an it like you, ſir.
I cannot tell, expect they are buſied in a counterfeit aſſurance.

I cannot tell, expect they are buſied in a counterfeit aſſurance.

[20]

He will make the man mad to make the woman of him.

He will make the man mad to make a woman of him.*
Whither away or whither is thy abode.

Whither away or where is thy abode.*
Didſt thou never ſee thy miſtreſs father?

Didſt thou never ſee thy maſters father?*
Well, I ſay no: and therefore, ſir, aſſurance.

Well, I ſay no: and therefore for aſſurance.*
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
It blots thy beauty as froſts do bite the meads.

It blots thy beauty as froſts bite the meads.*
Yet in this captious and intemible ſieve.

Yet in this captious and intenible ſieve.*
And would not have knaves thrive long under.

And would not have knaves thrive long under her.*
TWELFTH NIGHT.
Yet you will be hang'd to be turn'd away.

Yet you will be hang'd, or be turned away.
Enter Violenta.

Enter Viola.
That methought her eyes had loſt her tongue.

That ſure methought her eyes had loſt her tongue.*

[21]

Let thy tongue langer with arguments of ſtate.

Let thy tongue tang with arguments of ſtate.*
WINTERS TALE.
—clear ſtores.

—clear ſtones.
With hey, the thruſh and the jay.

With hey, with hey, the thruſh and the jay.*
Digeſt with a cuſtom.

Digeſt it with a cuſtom.
Burn hotter than my faith. O but ſir.

Burn hotter than my faith. O but dear ſir.
Before this ancient ſir, whom, it ſhould ſeem.

Before this ancient ſir, who, it ſhould ſeem.*
Of excellent witchcraft, whom perforce muſt know.

Of excellent witchcraft, who, perforce muſt know.*
You know my fathers temper.

You know your fathers temper.*
With her who here I cannot hold on ſhore.

With her whom here I cannot hold on ſhore.*
MACBETH.
Of kernes and gallow-groſſes

Of kernes and gallow-glaſſes

[22]

Shipwrecking ſtorms and direful thunders.

Shipwrecking ſtorms and direful thunders breaking [break].
Is execution done on Cawdor or not
Thoſe in commiſſion yet return'd?

Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Thoſe in commiſſion yet return'd.*
Whom we to gain our peace have ſent to peace.

Whom we to gain our place have ſent to peace.*
Whether, in deed, before they here approach.

Whether, indeed, before thy here-approach.
K. JOHN.
It would not be ſir Nob in any caſe.

I would not be ſir Nob in any caſe.
Say, ſhall the current of our right roam on.

Say ſhall the current of our right run on.*
Strong reaſons make ſtrange actions.

Strong reaſons make ſtrong actions.
'Tis true to hurt his maſter, no mans elſe.

'Tis true to hurt his maſter, no man elſe.*
FIRST PART OF K. HENRY IV.
[23]
With ſuch a heady currance.

With ſuch a heady current.*
To furniſh with all appertinents.

To furniſh him with all appertinents.*
Which in ſufferance heartily will rejoice.

Which I in ſufferance heartily will rejoice.*
To his full height. On, on, you nobliſh Engliſh.

To his full height. On, on, you nobleſt Engliſh.*
Of headly murder.

Of heady murder.*
Poor we call them in their native lords.

Poor we may call them in their native lords.
Pales in the flood with men, wives, and boys.

Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys.*
FIRST PART OF K. HEN. VI.
Shall be whipt out in the next parliament.

Shall be wip'd out in the next parliament.*
If Richard will be true, not that all alone.

If Richard will be true, not that alone.
Yes, my lord, her father is a king.

Yes, my good lord, her father is a king.*

[24]

She's tickled now, her fume needs no ſpurs.

She's tickled now, her fume can need no ſpurs.
Truſt nobody, for fear you betray'd.

Truſt nobody for fear you be betray'd.*
When I return with victory to the field.

When I return with victory from the field.*
To Lynn, my lord; and ſhip from thence to Flanders.

To Lynn, my lord; and ſhipt from thence to Flanders.
HENRY VIII.
Good man, thoſe joyful tears ſhew thy true hearts.
Good man, thoſe joyful tears ſhew thy true hearts.
JULIUS CAESAR.
Are then in council, and the ſtate of a man.

Are then in council, and the ſtate of man.
Paſſion I ſee is catching from mine eyes.

Paſſion I ſee is catching, for mine eyes.
For I have neither writ, nor words nor worth.

For I have neither wit, nor words nor worth.
CORIOLANUS.
Our beſt friends made, our means ſtretch'd.
Our beſt friends made, and our beſt means ſtretch'd out.
ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA.
[25]
—my fortunes have
Corrupted honeſt men. Diſpatch Enobarbus.

—my fortunes have
Corrupted honeſt men. Diſpatch Eros. [Eros, diſpatch!]
Let him come in. What a poor inſtrument.

Let him come in. How poor an inſtrument.
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
Was none in Rome to make a ſtale.

Was there none elſe in Rome to make a ſtale of.*
Even from Eptons riſing in the eaſt.

Even from Hyperions riſing in the eaſt.*
ROMEO AND JULIET.

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My niece.

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My ſweet.

Misſhapen chaos of well-ſeeing forms.

Misſhapen chaos of well-ſeeming forms.
Among freſh fennell buds—

Among freſh female buds—
A dimne ſaint, an honorable villain.

A damned ſaint, an honorable villain.

[26]

But which a rear-ward following Tybalts death.

But with a rear-ward following Tybalts death.
The roſes in thy lips and cheeks ſhall fade
To many aſhes—

The roſes in thy lips and cheeks ſhall fade
To mealy aſhes—
HAMLET.
this purſy times.

theſe purſy times.*
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy Starre.

Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy ſphere.
The inobled queen.

The mobled queen.
OTHELLO.
Out ran my purpoſe; and I return'd then rather

Out ran my purpoſe and I return'd the rather—*
Did Michael Caſſio, when you woo'd my lady
Know of your love?
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

Did &c.
Know &c.
I did not think he had been acquainted with it.
P. 249.
[27]

"The Quip Modeſt, &c."

☜ "THE author of this pamphlet, after a few copies had got abroad, had the modeſty to ſuppreſs it. Some time afterwards, repenting as it were of his repentance, he iſſued it out. One inſtance may be ſufficient to ſhew his profound ignorance of the poet whom he attempted to illuſtrate; he ſuppoſed the words ignomy and intergatory, in a late edition of Shakſpeare, to be errours of the preſs! So, when the clown in Meaſure for Meaſure ſays "there were but two ſtew'd prunes in the houſe, which at that very diſtant time ſtood, as it were in a fruit-diſh, &c. this Remarker for diſtant would read inſtant."

The veracity of this note is no leſs remarkable than its decency. That the author of the pamphlet in queſtion ever "had the modeſty to ſuppreſs it" is an abſolute falſehood, known to his printer, his bookſeller, and all who bought it. The truth is that, "after a few copies were got abroad," the further ſale was delayed till a leaf could be reprinted, in which ſome erroneous references had been detected, and an expreſſion uſed which was thought too ſtrong for the perſon alluded to, even if that perſon had been Mr. Malone, and another added to convict the [28]editor or reviſer of the "late edition" of a groſs and wilful miſrepreſentation. All this might take up a week, when the publication was continued. As to the reſt, both Mr. Malone and the author of that pamphlet may have ſufficient reaſon to wiſh that neither of them had ever betrayed more profound ignorance of this great poet than in barely prefering the reading of one edition to that of another. That ignominy, the correction of the ſecond folio, and of which ignomy is every where either a contraction or a corruption, is requiſite in the preſent inſtance will be evident to all, except Mr. Malone, and perhaps the editor (or reviſer) of the edition in queſtion, from the line itſelf: "Ignòminy in ranſom and free pardon."’

Intergatories, is likewiſe nothing more than a contraction of interrogatories, as Shakſpeare would always have written it, if his metre had not required the ſacrifice of a ſyllable, which proſe does not. So, in K. John: ‘"What earthly name to interrògatories."’

Inſtant is alſo the reading of the ſecond folio, and of every other edition before that of 1785. As however it was thought diſtant might be intentional, the inſtance was omitted in the cancel.

After all, if the "Quipſters ignorance" of his author was ſo "profound," why has this infallible [29]judge adopted any of his remarks or ſuggeſtions, ſometimes word for word, and elſewhere with ſneaking approbation, or at ſecond-hand. See vol. ii. 11. 256. 491. 507. iii. 27. 77. 316. 394. iv. 497. 504. vi. 146. 273. v. 495. viii. 634. &c. &c. How ſay you to this M. Malone?

VOL. I. PART II.

P. 293.

"Richard the Confeſſor."

"THIS piece," Mr. Malone obſerves, "ſhould ſeem to have been written by the tinker in The Taming of the Shrew, who talks of Richard Conqueror." Unfortunately, however, the obſervation is but one out of many inſtances of our "half-informed" editors pleaſantry being occaſioned by his ignorance. He ſuppoſes Richard a blunder for Edward; becauſe he does not know that there is ſuch a perſonage as Richard the Confeſſor; whereas there are no leſs than four Confeſſors of that name, any of whom might have been, and one certainly was, the hero of the above play. In the firſt place there is ſaint Richard the Confeſſor, an imaginary king of England, ſuppoſed to be buried at Lucca, where he is ſaid to have dyed on his return from a pilgrimage to Rome. Another was biſhop of Chicheſter; a [30]third of St. Andrews in Calabri; and the fourth hermit of Hampole near Doncaſter, whoſe ſomniferous lucubrations have contributed in no ſmall degree to the bulk of Mr. Wartons Hiſtory of Engliſh Poetry. All of theſe are expreſsly ſtiled Confeſſors in the Engliſh Martyrologe, 1608, and other books of the ſame caſt: ſo that the editors "attempt at jocularity" is as "feeble" as his "ignorance" is "profound."

TEMPEST.
P. 21.
Pro.
Go make thyſelf like a nymph o'the ſea; be ſubject
To no ſight but thine and mine; inviſible
To every eye-ball elſe.

The elder folio regulates the paſſage thus:

Go make thyſelf like a nymph o'th' ſea:
Be ſubject to no ſight but thine and mine; inviſible
To every eye-ball elſe.

The ſecond reads: ‘—like to nymph o'th' ſea.’

And now comes our Iriſh editor, and pronounces as poſitively as if he had been at the copyiſts or compoſitors elbow that the words be ſubject were transfered to the ſecond line "by the careleſsneſs of [31]the tranſcriber or printer." "The regulation that I have made," ſays he, "ſhews that the addition [of the ſecond folio] was unneceſſary."

The only difference between the editor of the ſecond folio and Mr. Malone is that the former perfected the metre of the only defective line, and the latter has deſtroyed that of each. Had this "very fond and ſkill-leſs" editor poſſeſſed one thouſandth part of the ſenſe and ſagacity he aſſumes the credit of, he would have perceived that the blunder of the tranſcriber or printer conſiſted, not in tranſpoſing the words be ſubject, but, in the inſertion of two other ſyllables which certainly have no buſineſs there, and could not poſſibly have come from Shakſpeare, unleſs Shakſpeare had written like Mr. Malone. "The regulation that I have made ſhews that the addition was neceſſary:" I appeal to thoſe who have ears:

Go make thyſelf like to a nymph o'th' ſea,
Be ſubject to no ſight but mine, inviſible
To every eye-ball elſe.

If this alteration have been made already, it is more than I know.

P. 24.
Curſ'd be I that I did ſo!—all the charms.

"The latter word (charms)" we are told "like many others of the ſame kind is here uſed as a diſſyllable."

[32]How other words "of the ſame kind" may be uſed is of little conſequence: all we want to know is why the word charms ſhould be ſo uſed; or, in ſhort, how one ſyllable comes to be two. The metre of the line is manifeſtly and ſimply perfect, as conſiſting of ten monoſyllables, alternately ſhort and long: ſo that it is abſolutely impoſſible to conceive a leſs exceptionable inſtance of heroic verſe. Is this laborious octennial editor ignorant that his authors meaſure conſiſts of ten ſyllables? or is he, like many of his wild countrymen, unable to reckon to ten, or to count his fingers? The only reaſon, I can perceive, for his making charms a word of two ſyllables, is that it cannot poſſibly be more than one.

P. 37.
—the fair ſoul herſelf
Weigh'd, between lothneſs and obedience, at
Which end o'the beam ſhe'd bow.

The old edition reads—ſhould—and Mr. Pope, by the omiſſion of a ſingle ſuperfluous letter— ‘Which end the beam ſhould bow;’ an eaſy and appoſite ſenſe, which our ingenious and conſiſtent critic, who thinks that "an omiſſion of any word in the old copy," however nonſenſical or abſurd, "without ſubſtituting another in its place, is ſeldom ſafe," has rejected for a much more violent alteration, and no ſenſe at all.

P. 39.
[33]
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none.

"Bourn," the editor ſays, "might have been uſed as a diſſyllable."

Certainly,—by ſuch a judge of harmony as himſelf. Bo-urn, bound òf land, tilth, vi-nè-yard, nòne. He could not perceive that there are two ſyllables wanting to complete the meaſure. Shakſpeare might have written: ‘Bourn, limit, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none.’

P. 52.

Stephano here aſks Trinculo how he eſcaped, and the latter ſays that he "ſwam aſhore like a duck;" adding, "I can ſwim like a duck, I'll be ſworn:" than which nothing can be more ſimple. Our Iriſh editor, however, in the profundity of his conceit, believes that "Trinculo is ſpeaking of Caliban, and that we ſhould read—"a' can ſwim, &c." than which nothing can be more abſurd.

P. 55.

All former editions reading

—moſt poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean taſk
[34]Would be as heavy to me as odious; but
The miſtreſs whom I ſerve quickens what's dead
And makes my labours pleaſures,—

our notable critic, for the improvement of the metre, of which he is a complete judge, alters it thus:

—moſt poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean taſk would be
As heavy to me as odious, but
The miſtreſs, &c.

And juſtifies the alteration by gravely telling us that "our author and his contemporaries generally uſe odious as a triſyllable." How then, will he tell us, do he and his contemporaries uſe it?

It is evident that all we get by this capricious change is a transfer to one line of the defect of another; at leaſt, to make any metre of the ſecond we muſt read it thus: ‘"As heavy to me as o-dì-ous, but;"’ as, the editor will undoubtedly pretend, our author and his contemporaries generally pronounced it.

The inſertion of a ſingle ſyllable perfects the meaſure:

—moſt poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean taſk would be
[35]As heavy to me as 'tis odious; but
The miſtreſs, &c.
P. 65.
Trin.
The ſound is going away: let's follow it, And after do our work.
Ste.
Lead monſter, we'll follow,—I wou'd I could ſee this taborer: he lays it on.
Trin.
Wilt come? I'll follow Stephano.

The words Wilt come, our ſagacious editor believes, are addreſſed to Stephano, who, from a deſire to ſee the "taborer" lingers behind. Will you come or not (ſays Trinculo)? If you will not, I'll follow Caliban without you."

Such an "idle conjecture" could only, one would think, proceed from a dabbler equally ignorant of our authors manner and unconſcious of his meaning. It is, notwithſtanding, very much in character. The muſic is going away, and Stephano lingers behind to ſee the performer: this is Paddy from Cork with a vengeance! Suppoſe now we were to treat the paſſage thus: Ste. Lead monſter; we'll follow,—I would I could ſee this taborer: he lays it on. Wilt come? Trin. I'll follow, Stephano. It is Trinculo who "lingers behind."

TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
[36]
P. 120.
O how this ſpring of love reſembleth.

The editor has inſerted both Mr. Tyrwhitts notes, without taking the leaſt notice of the concluſive reply already made to the latter, and which it is unneceſſary here to repeat. In return for this piece of candour, I ſhall only ſay that I do not in the leaſt wonder to find him as ignorant of the principles of Engliſh orthography, as he is of the ſenſe and language of the author he has had the preſumption to think himſelf qualifyed to illuſtrate. Mr. Tyrwhitt was a man of indiſputable learning and critical abilities; but, perhaps on that very account could not, like Cicero, be expected to

—follow any thing
That other men begin.
P. 133.
Pro.
I'll die on him that ſays ſo but yourſelf.
Sil.
That you are welcome.
Pro.
That you are worthleſs.

Dr. Johnſon, finding the meaſure defective, prefixed the word No to the latter hemiſtich, "But perhaps," ſays Mr. Malone, "the particle which he [37]has ſupplyed is unneceſſary. Worthleſs was, I believe, uſed as a triſyllable. See Mr. Tyrwhitt's note, p. 120."

The gentleman, as his friend Bottom obſerves, has "a reaſonable good ear in muſic," and "the tongs and the bones" would be no improper accompaniment for ſuch kind of harmony as he thus makes of our all-excellent poets verſification. If worthleſs be a triſyllable, it will be neceſſary to inſert a vowel in order to receive the accent, which it muſt be evident can neither fall upon worth nor leſs. One muſt therefore read:

That you are welcome.
That you are worth-ì-leſs.

The editor ſeems to have acquired the ſecret of multiplying ſyllables from a well-known ſtory in Joe Millers Jeſts, where an equally ingenious Oxford ſcholar proves two capons to be three, and gets the third for his pains.

They who look for information upon the ſubject in Mr. Tyrwhitts note will be as much diſappointed as that learned gentleman would have been ſurpriſed to find them ſent thither for it.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.
P. 265.
Farewell, gentle miſtreſs; farewell Nan.

"Miſtreſs" the editor ſays, "is here uſed as a [38]triſyllable." The accent, of courſe, falls as uſual upon the ſecond: e. g.

Farewell, gentle miſ-tè-reſs; farewell Nan.
P. 261.
—to be compaſs'd like a good bilbo in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point.—

"Thus," ſays our editor, "the folio. The old 4to reads—of a pack, and perhaps rightly. Pedlars packs are ſometimes of ſuch a ſize as to admit of Falſtaffs deſcription; but who but a Lilliputian could be "compaſſed in a peck."

O feeble, ſhallow, profoundly ignorant annotator! It is the bilbo, not Falſtaff, that is "compaſſ'd in a peck:" He was in a ſimilar condition in the buck-baſket.

VOL. II.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

P. 101.
Ere twice the ſun hath made his daily greeting
To yond generation, you ſhall find, &c.

If the editor had followed the practice he imputes to the editor of the ſecond folio, "of altering whatever he did not underſtand," we ſhould ſcarcely have had a ſingle word of Shakſpeares left. It is therefor [39]rather fortunate that he has ſo frequently affected to underſtand, not only what he was perfectly ignorant of, but what in fact is utterly unintelligible and abſolute nonſenſe.

Yond, in the above paſſage, being an evident miſprint for the under, which had been written in the copy Ye vnd', and is requiſite both to the ſenſe and to the metre, our notable Hibernian explains it to mean "the without door generation." The metre of the line will therefor be very properly in uniſon with the ſenſe.

To yond ge-ne-ra-tì-on, you ſhall find.
P. 140.

And live if not then thou art doom'd to die:—"if not,] Old copy—no. Corrected in the ſecond folio."

The ſecond folio, now under my eye, does not differ from the firſt. Is this a ſpecimen of the editors accuracy or of his veracity?

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

P. 269.
Leon.
What do you mean my lord?
Claud.
Not to be marry'd, Not to knit my ſoul to an approve [...] wanton.
Leon.
Dear my lord, if you in your own proof.

Theſe lines have been differently regulated; but [40]let that paſs; "Dear," our editor ſays, "like door, fire, hour, and many ſimilar words, is here uſed as a diſſyllable. "We muſt therefor read: De-àr, my lord, if you, in your own proof:’ which, it muſt be confeſſed, is one of the beſt diſſyllable lines throughout this harmonious edition.

LOVES LABOUR LOST.

P. 414.
Taffata phraſes, ſilken terms preciſe,
Three-pil'd hyperboles, ſpruce affection,
Figures pedantical, theſe ſummer-flies
Have blown me full of maggot oſtentation.

"The modern editors," it ſeems, "read affectation;" but "there is no need of change. The word was uſed by our author and his contemporaries, as a quadriſyllable."

In the Devils name (God forgive me for ſwearing!) what has the number of ſyllables to do here? It is the rime we are at a loſs for, not the metre. Surely, ſurely, if ever man was peculiarly diſqualifyed by nature for an editor of Shakſpeare, or, in ſhort, for a reader of poetry, it was this identical Mr. Malone! Could it have been imagined that a writer in the eighteenth century would be ſo profoundly ignorant of the commoneſt rules of verſification, ſo totally [41]deſtitute of every idea of harmony and arithmetic, as to propoſe ſuch a ſtanza as the following?

Taf-fa-ta phraſ-es, ſilk-en terms pre-ciſe,
Three-pil'd hy-per-bo-les, ſpruce af-fec-tì-on,
Fi-gures pe-dan-ti-cal; theſe ſum-mer flies,
Have blown me full of mag-got oſ-ten-tà-ti-on.

Perhaps, however, he will contend that hyperboles is a triſyllable, as nothing can be improbable, in reference to ſuch a genius, on the ſcore of abſurdity. Let it be ſo, it will make no ſort of difference: ‘Three-pil'd hy-per-boles, ſpruce af-fec-ti-òn. Only, in the one caſe, we ſee that on will be the rime to ātion; in the other, īon.

MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM.

P. 459.
—Are you not he
That fright the maidens of the villagery;
Skim milk; and ſometimes labour in the quern,
And bootleſs make the breathleſs houſewife churn.

"Perhaps," obſerves our ſagacious editor, "the conſtruction is—and ſometimes make the breathleſs houſewife labour in the quern, and bootleſs churn. This," he adds, "would obviate the objection made [42]by Dr. Johnſon, viz. that "the mention of the mill ſeems out of place, for ſhe is not now telling the good but the evil that he does." Such a conſtruction may be perfectly natural to the maker, whoſe ideas ſeem to ſport in a moſt lovely confuſion, but how is it poſſible for any other perſon to approve it? Nothing can be more eaſy and intelligible than the paſſage as it now ſtands; and the objection taken by Dr. Johnſon does not ſeem well founded: as the fairy may have enumerated miſchievous acts only. Pucks labour in the quern might be either to diſturb the family with the noiſe, or, if he actually ground the corn, when it was not wanted, or to throw the flour about the houſe.

P. 464.
The human mortals want their winter here.

The poſition too haſtily advanced by Mr. Steevens of the mortality of fairies has been ſo fully and completely refuted, that I do not at all wonder to find our preſent candid and liberal editor continuing that gentlemans note, tho' I own I am not a little ſurpriſed to ſee the ſwaggering comment in the edition of 1785 reduced to half a dozen words—

"See the Faery Queen B. II. c. 10; and Wartons OBSERVATIONS on Spenſer, vol. i. p. 55. REED."

And why not likewiſe to "Tickell's poem, called Kenſington Gardens," which was to ſhew "that the [43]opinion prevailed in the preſent century?"* But the reduction and omiſſion are ſufficient to prove that our modeſt editor was himſelf convinced of the fallacy of Mr. Steevens's aſſertion, and Mr. Reeds authorities, though he has not had the candour to acknowledge it. See the Quip Modeſt. pp. 11. 33.

The paſſage three quoted from Arioſto is thus tranſlated by Sir J. Harington:

"But (either auncient folke beleeu'd a lie,
"Or this is true) a fayrie cannot die."

The following inſtances, from this very play, were accidentally omited:

"But ſhe, being mortal, of that boy did die."
"I am a ſpirit of no common ſort."

If ever any poſition was or can be demonſtrated by literary evidence it is that the fairies of Shakſpeare were not ſubject to mortality. There is no evidence whatever on the other ſide.

P. 499.
[44]
So, with two ſeeming bodies, but one heart
Two of the firſt, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one creſt.

"According to the rules of heraldry," it is the editors note, "the firſt houſe only, (e. g. a father who has a ſon living, or an elder brother as diſtinguiſhed from a younger,) has a right to bear the family coat. The ſon's coat is diſtinguiſhed from the father's by a label; the younger brother's from the elder's by a mullet. The ſame creſt is common to both. Helena therefore means to ſay, that ſhe and her friends were as cloſely united, as much as one perſon, as if they were both of the firſt houſe; as if they both had the privilege due but to one perſon, (viz. to him of the firſt houſe,) the right of bearing the family coat without any diſtinguiſhing mark."

Every reader of this incomparable edition will have frequent occaſion to obſerve that the editor "draweth out the thread of his verboſity finer than the ſtaple of his argument." The preſent inſtance, indeed, is nothing in compariſon to pages of inanity with which the work abounds, and which, on account of their "true no-meaning," are actually incapable of refutation or diſcuſſion. What, in the name of Shakſpeare, of ſenſe or reaſon, has either the father or his eldeſt ſon to do with the paſſage in queſtion? [45]The two ſeeming bodies united by one heart are reſembled to coats in heraldry, crowned with one creſt. And this happens either where the heir keeps his paternal and maternal coats, or the huſband his own and his wifes, in ſeparate ſhields, as is done on the continent; or, as at preſent with us, in the quarterings of the ſame ſhield; in both caſes there are two coats, due but to one, and crowned with one creſt: which is clearly the authors alluſion. But I am ſorry to add that he muſt have entirely miſunderſtood, ſince he has ſo ſtrangely miſapplyed, the expreſſion, Two of the firſt; which, in heraldical jargon, always means two objects of the firſt colour mentioned; that is the field. For inſtance: in blazoning a coat they will ſay, Argent, upon a feſſe gules, two mullets of the firſt, that is, argent, the colour of the field. Theſe words are therefor a melancholy proof that our great author ſometimes retained the phraſe after he had loſt the idea, or up the former without ſufficient precaution as to the latter. It is not indeed the only one; but "quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus." With reſpect to the note, as it is the offspring of ignorance, it becomes naturally the parent of contempt.

P. 473.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows.

"Where," Mr. Malone informs us, "is here [46]uſed as a diſſyllable. The modern editors," he ſays, unneceſſarily read—whereon."

We muſt therefor, it ſeems, neceſſarily read: ‘"I know a bank whe-àr the wild thyme blows.’

This, to be ſure, is no deſpicable line; Mr. Malone is a very pretty harmoniſt, in his way. But, if we muſt have a diſſyllable, why not bank? ‘"I know a bà-ank where the wild thyme blows."’ Or thyme, ſtill better, as old Geoffrey might have had it?

"I know a bank where the wild thymé blows."

VOL. III.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

P. 25.
away, ſays the fiend, for the heavens; rouſe up a brave mind and run.

Away for the heavens, that is, as our editor explains it, "Begone to the heavens." Now was it poſſible to imagine that a man who has been labouring for eight years, "with unceaſing ſolicitude, to give a faithful and correct edition of Shakſpeare" ſhould be ſo profoundly and completely ignorant of [47]his meaning in this very ſimple paſſage? Can any thing be ſo unnatural and abſurd as for the Devil to adviſe the perſon he is tempting to go to heaven? But why to the heavens? or how get thither? Mr. Malone, it is believed, will find the journey ſomewhat more difficult than he ſeems to apprehend it would have been to honeſt Launcelot. In the mean time, every one, but this floundering commentator, knows that for the heavens is nothing more than an adjuration, or, as we now ſay, for the heavens ſake.

P. 33.
If a Chriſtian do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived.

"If a Chriſtian (ſays Launcelot, on receiving a love-letter for Lorenzo,) do not play the knave, and carry thee away from thy fathers houſe, I am much deceived." Such is the ingenious editors explanation, which he "would not have attempted of ſo eaſy a paſſage, if the ignorant editor of the ſecond folio, thinking probably that the word get muſt neceſſarily mean beget, had not altered the text, and ſubſtituted did in the place of do, in which he has been copied by every ſubſequent editor." Every ſubſequent editor muſt therefor be, at leaſt, equally ignorant; and I dare ſay, if Mr. Malone is to be the judge, there never was editor, commentator or critic of Shakſpeare who had a grain of ſenſe beſide himſelf. A [48]refutation cannot be expected of ſuch peculiar abſurdity. "Launcelot," he ſays, "is not talking about Jeſſica's father, but about her future huſband." But how does he know this? who told him ſo? can he be better acquainted with the ſubject of Launcelots converſation than the man himſelf? He is aware, at the ſame time, that, in a ſubſequent ſcene, he ſays to Jeſſica, "Marry, you may partly hope your father got you not;" but he is now, it ſeems, on another ſubject. That, however, is but the idle opinion of Mr. Malone; the editor of the ſecond folio, and all his ſucceſſors, and, I will venture to add, Shakſpeare himſelf, and all his readers, think very differently.

P. 38.
Shut doors after you: faſt bind, faſt find.

Former editors had ſupplyed a ſyllable, which is equally neceſſary to the ſenſe and to the metre. But the delicate ear and critical acumen of their Hibernian ſucceſſor have enabled him to diſcover that "doors is here uſed as a diſſyllable." A previous acquaintance with the Iriſh howl muſt be of infinite ſervice in the peruſal of this harmonious edition.

Ibi.
How like a younker, and a prodigal.

This elegant and judicious emendation of the old copies, which read younger, was made by Mr. Rowe. Our more ingenious editor, however, with becoming [49]diffidence and profound knowlege, doubts "whether younker was a word of our authors time." It, however, happens, a little unluckily, not only to be a word of our authors time, but to be elſewhere uſed by our author himſelf. "What!" ſays Falſtaff, in the Second part of King Henry IV. "will you make a younker of me?" Again in the Third part of K. Henry VI.

Trim'd like a younker prancing to his love.

If he has elſewhere doubted of his doubt, it only proves how little he is any where to be depended on.

P. 59
For fear I ſurfeit!
Baſſ.
What find I here.

"The latter word is here employed as a diſſyllable."

Of this there can be no doubt, as the line itſelf will prove:

For fear I ſurfeit.
What find I he-àr.
P. 92.
As far as Belmont.
Jeſ.
In ſuch a night, did
Young Lorenzo ſwear he lov'd her well.

[50]"Swear is here, as in many other places, a diſſyllable."

This as uſual is confirmed by the metre:

As fār as Bēlmont. In ſŭch ā nĭght dīd
Young Lō-rĕn-zō ſwĕ-ār he lōv'd her wēll.

Who can ſay that our harmonious editor has not employed his eight years labour to advantage when he produces ſuch lines as theſe?

AS YOU LIKE IT.

P. 141.
—Now go we in content.

Go in we, an accidental tranſpoſition of the firſt folio, being thus properly corrected in the ſecond, our editor, who will not allow that edition the merit or liberty of correcting the moſt glaring typographical blunder, is "not ſure that the tranſpoſition is neceſſary;" for, as he ſagaciously obſerves, "our author might have uſed content as an adjective:" Whence, I preſume, we muſt neceſſarily infer that the correction has rendered it a ſubſtantive, pronoun, verb, participle, adverb, conjunction, prepoſition or interjection. He ſeems a very pretty grammarian.

P. 145.
The body of country, city, court.

Every one who has either ear or eye, will inſtantly [51]perceive here the want of a ſyllable, which was ſupplyed by the editor of the ſecond folio, who reads ‘The body of the country, city, court;’ a reading which is eſſential to the ſenſe and meaſure of the verſe, and which one may therefor reckon indiſputably Shakſpeares. The preſent editor, however, who is in fact, what he would have the other thought to be, "utterly ignorant of our authors phraſeology and metre," omits the article, under pretence that "Country is here uſed as a triſyllable." To reaſon with a man who has no more ear for poetry than Dr. Johnſon had for muſic, and he ſcarcely "knew a drum from a trumpet, or a bagpipe from a guitar," would be abſurd: every other perſon will ſee it was utterly impoſſible for Shakſpeare to write ſuch a line as this, or indeed for any one but Mr. Malone to conceive it: ‘"The body of coun-tè-ry, city, court.’ What a pity it is that the public cannot have the pleaſure of hearing Mr. Malone read his own text! I ſay pleaſure, becauſe undoubtedly it would be a moſt laughable performance.

P. 195.
Over the wretched? What though you have mo beauty.

The old copies reading—no beauty, the editor [52]will have it to be a miſprint for mo, or more, as he has every where elſe thought proper to write it. This, he ſays, "appears clearly from the paſſage in Lodge's Roſalynde, which Shakſpeare has here imitated:—"Becauſe thou art beautiful, be not ſo coy, &c." A paſſage which, as it contains neither no nor mo, can not certainly prove what it is brought to do. The conſtruction adopted by this penetrating critic is that though a woman has more beauty than her lover ſhe is not on that account to inſult him: an idea which one can eaſily ſuppoſe never entered into any head but his own; one would not, therefor, wiſh to deprive the preſent edition of an emendation ſo worthy of it. But, however, Mr. Malone may read, his author certainly wrote ‘Over the wretched? what though you have beauty.’ He could not perceive that no or mo was as injurious to the metre, as his quotation from Lodge might have led him to ſuſpect it was to the ſenſe: though I believe he underſtands both equally well. But, I well know that "my learned friend is above taking notice of ſuch ſlender criticiſm."

P. 205.
—I will weep for nothing like Diana in the fountain.

[53]Our perſpicacious editor had ſome years ago conjectured that theſe words had an alluſion to ſome well-known conduit; he has ſince found his conjecture confirmed, and elſewhere obſerved "that our author without doubt alluded to the ancient Croſs in Cheapſide," in which was an alabaſter image of Diana, and water prilling from her naked breaſts." So that, unfortunately, the very inſtance which he has adduced in confirmation of the above ſagacious conjecture totally deſtroys it; unleſs the tears of his Cheapſide Diana flowed from her breaſts, inſtead of her eyes. This would have done well enough in Dublin.

P. 214
Ah, ſir, a body would think this was well counterfeited.

"The old copy reads—Ah, Sirra, &c. Corrected by the editor of the ſecond folio."

It ought, indeed, to have been ſo corrected by that editor: but the fact is that the ſecond folio reads—Ah, Sirra.

TAMING OF THE SHREW.

P. 258.
Vincentio's ſon brought up in Florence.

"Vincentio's" according to Mr. Malone, "is [54]here uſed as a quadriſyllable. Mr. Pope," he adds, "not perceiving this, unneceſſarily reads—Vincentio his ſon, which has been too haſtily adopted by the ſubſequent editors."

Mr. Malone, no doubt, is able to perceive a great many thing which neither Mr. Pope nor any body elſe would dream of; though, if Mr. Pope did not perceive that a word of four ſyllables was a word of four ſyllables, he muſt have been a more extraordinary perſon than he is generally reputed. No, no, Mr. Malone, it was not becauſe he did not perceive Vincentio's to be uſed as a quadriſyllable, that he read Vincentio his, but becauſe, not having had the advantage of an Iriſh education, he perceived that ſuch a line as the following could not have been written by Shakſpeare: ‘Vin-cēn-ti-ō's ſon, brōught up īn Florēnce.’

Whatever people may chooſe to ſay of Mr. Malones edition, no one will deny him the excluſive merit of deforming his authors verſe in the moſt ridiculous and aſinine manner poſſible.

P. 295.
But, wrangling pedant, this is.

"Probably," the editor admits," our author wrote—this lady is, which," he ſays, "completes the metre, wrangling being uſed as a triſyllable.' [55]Now, in my humble opinion, it rather completes the evidence that the editor does not know what metre is. He ſhould have accented his lines. What delectable harmony is here! ‘But, wrāng-gle-īng pedānt, this lady is.’

There is a poem, intitled Teiſa, which was publiſhed a few years ago, entirely written in this way, and on that account a ſort of curioſity. If it had not born the name of the author (Anna Fiſher) and been upon a different ſubject, I ſhould have been poſitive that is was the production of our muſical editor. The ſaid poem, however, and his own Shakſpeare are, ſo far as I know, the only ſpecimens of this kind of metre extant either in the Engliſh or any other language.

P. 315.
Where be theſe knaves? What no man at door.

"Door is here, and in other places, uſed as a diſſyllable." Right; you have told us ſo once before: let us therefor read the line, as it ſhould be, in the Iriſh way:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Where1 be2 theſe3 knaves4? What5 no6 man7 at8 do9-oo10r.

A dealer in diſſyllables, poſſeſſed of the ſlighteſt notion of harmony, would rather have made one of knaves; but an editor of common ſenſe would read—the door.

PERICLES.

[56]
P. 556.
To pleaſe the fool and death.

"The Fool and Death," Mr. Malone obſerves, "were principal perſonages in the old Moralities." Mr. Malone is hereby called upon to mention one ſingle Morality in which there is any ſuch character as either the Fool or Death. If he can not, what are we to think of the morality of Mr. Malone?

VOL. IV

TWELFTH NIGHT.

P. 25
With adoration's fertile tears.

"Tears," the editor ſays, "is here uſed as a diſſyllable;" and diſſyllable are the moſt convenient things in the world for patching up a broken verſe. Now, what, for inſtance, can run more ſmoothly than the following? ‘With ā-do-rā-ti-ōns fer-tīle te-ārs.’ Ah, to be ſure Mr. Malone is not a very good judge of harmony; to be ſure he isn't!

P. 42.
[57]
Mar.
My purpoſe is indeed a horſe of that colour.
Sir And.
And your horſe now would make him an aſs.
Mar.
Aſs, I doubt not.

Mr. Tyrwhitt believing that this conceit, which, though bad enough, ſhews, he thought, too quick an apprehenſion for ſir Andrew, ſhould be given to ſir Toby; "An anonymous writer" aſks, if the ingenious critic imagined it "probable that Maria would call ſir Toby," whom, according to his own account, ſhe adored, and aſs; upon which our truly affable and diffident Hibernian, after premiſing that his "learned friend is above taking notice of ſuch ſlender criticiſm," roundly aſſerts that "Maria is not ſpeaking of ſir Andrew, or ſir Toby, but of Malvolio!" I ſhould inſult the reader by deſcending to refute an aſſertion ſo wantonly confident, and extravagantly abſurd.

P. 37.
And thanks, and ever thanks: Oft good turns.

Theobald inſerted the ſecond thanks, and added likewiſe the word and to perfect the metre. Mr. Malone, who is a much better judge of metre, ſuffers the former word to remain, but rejects the latter; [58]having no doubt that turns was uſed as a diſſyllable. We muſt therefor take care to read: ‘And thanks, and ever thanks: oft good tu-ùrns. But why, Mr. Malone, ſhould not good be a diſſyllable, ſince a diſſyllable there muſt be, as well as turns, and then, you ſee, we ſhall have no need of interpolating the true original reading of the only ancient authentic copy?

WINTERS TALE.

P. 138.

Mr. Malone reads

—(for cogitation
Reſides not in that man that does not think)

which being, as Fabian ſays, "exceeding good ſenſe-leſs," is judiciously prefered to the correction of former editors: ‘—that does not think it. This is not, however, as he aſſerts, the reading of the ſecond folio. But certainly it ought to have been ſo, which, in Iriſh, may be the ſame thing.

P. 164.
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek, his ſmiles.

[59] Dimples, according to our metrical Procruſtes, as well as of his, is here employed as a monoſyllable; which is muſt be confeſſed will make one of the prettyeſt namby pamby lines that we can any where meet with.

‘The pretty dimp's of's chin, and cheek, his ſmiles.’ Shakſpeare had no conception of theſe little Malonian beauties: he only wrote the line thus: ‘The pretty dimples of his cheek, his ſmiles;’ leaving it for ſuch ſuperior geniuſes as Mr. Malone to improve and finiſh off.

P. 200.
Burn hotter than my faith.
Per.
O but ſir.

The editor of the ſecond folio, who, ignorant as he was, ſeems to have had the uſe his ears, eyes, and fingers, reads— ‘O but dear ſir.’ This addition, however, our infallible metre-maſter pronounces unneceſſary, "burn in the preceding hemiſtic being," he ſays, "uſed as a diſſyllable." A diſſyllable! nay then, all will be right enough, as we have only to read this moſt beautiful and harmonious line: [60] "Bu-ùrn hot-tèr than my faith. O but ſir.’ Ah, well! and who finds fault with it? For

"Dare you think your clumſy lugs ſo proper to decide as
"The delicate ears of juſtice Midas?"
P. 242
Here where we are.
Leon.
The bleſſed Gods.

"Unleſs both here and where were employed as diſſyllables, the metre is defective." O by all means let them be employed as diſſyllables: they are moſt uſeful and excellent things, and make the ſweeteſt verſification imaginable. For inſtance: He-àr, whe-àr we arè. The bleſſed Gods.’ Or thus, more ſoftly: He-rèe whe-rèe we are. The bleſſed Gods.’

Here is again "employed as a diſſyllable in Macbeth, p. 270,

Who comes he-àr? The worthy thane of Roſs.

KING JOHN.

P. 454.
Kneel thou down, Philip, but riſe more great.

"More is here uſed as a diſſyllable."

[61]To be ſure it is: and this Mr. Tyrwhitt might have thought an additional proof that our poet "had not forgotten his Chaucer:" ‘Kneel thou down, Philip, but riſe moré great.’ What an admirable thing is it to have a delicate ear! A plain hobbling fellow unbleſſed with that advantage would have only thought the little word up wanting, and ſpoiled, of courſe, a moſt excellent mono-diſſyllable.

P. 468.
It lies as ſightly on the back of him
As great Alcides' ſhoes upon an aſs:

"i. e. upon the hoofs of an aſs."

This comment is at leaſt in uniſon with the text. The idea of Hercules's ſhoes (N. B. Hercules wore no ſhoes) lying upon the hoofs of an aſs is every way worthy of ingenious Hibernian, from whom alone it could proceed.

VOL. V.

KING RICHARD II.

P. 46.
My lord, my anſwer is—to Lancaſter.

The editors note on this paſſage has been already [62]refuted; but if ignorance would ſuffer him to perceive his error, obſtinacy would not permit him to confeſs it.

P. 72.
I would the plants thou graft'ſt may never grow.
Gard.
Poor queen! ſo that thy ſtate might be no worſe,
I would my ſkill were ſubject to thy curſe.

"An anonymous writer ſuggeſts that the queen perhaps meant to wiſh him childleſs. The gardeners anſwer ſhews that this was not the authors meaning."

The gardeners anſwer ſhews no ſuch thing: he merely purſues the alluſion.

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.

P. 114.
Mordake earl of Fife, and eldeſt ſon.

"The word earl," our editor tells us, " is here uſed as a diſſyllable;" but "Mr. Pope, not perceiving this," reads—the earl. ‘"Mordake e-àrl of Fife, and eldeſt ſon.’ Mr. Pope could no more have conceived Shakſpeare capable of writing ſuch a line, than he could have [63]written it himſelf: theſe diſcoveries were reſerved for a ſecond-ſighted Hibernian.

P. 142.
Fal.
A baſtard ſon of the kings?

Dr. Johnſon, having obſerved that the improbability of this ſcene is ſcarcely balanced by the humour, our Iriſh editor perceives no improbability: aſſerting roundly that Falſtaff does NOT miſtake the prince for a baſtard of the kings, but means to inform him at once that he knows him a Poins, notwithſtanding their diſguiſe.

The text, which is too plain to be miſunderſtood by a reader of common ſenſe, will ſpeak for itſelf, and clearly prove that neither Falſtaff nor the hoſteſs knows the prince till he ſays he is "come to draw him out by the ears." Falſtaff himſelf allows that he did not know the prince was within hearing: but this perſpicacious critic, who can ſee into the midſt of a millſtone, would be thought to know what paſſes better than either Falſtaff, or Falſtaffs creator.

P. 162.
Eaſtcheap. A room in the boars head tavern.

"Shakſpeare," ſays the editor, "has hung up a ſign that he ſaw daily; for the Boars head tavern [64]was very near Blackfriars playhouſe. See Stows Survey, 4to. 1618. p. 686.

No doubt there might be many ſigns of the Boars head, in and about London, beſides that in Eaſt-cheap; but why need Shakſpeare be at the trouble of carrying a ſign from Blackfriars and hanging it up in Eaſtcheap, where, he muſt know, it exiſted already? If the Boars head were not the ſign of the Boars head Tavern, in Eaſtcheap, let the editor tell us what it was. If it were not, Shakſpeare might have looked long enough about Blackfriars playhouſe before he had found either the Boars head or the Boars head Tavern. The ſign which Stow mentions was a Beares head, and he ſpeaks of it—not as hanging at the time he wrote, but—as having formerly been one of the ſigns of the ſtew-houſes, which had been long ſuppreſſed, and which, every one knows, were not near Blackfriars playhouſe. See his Survay, 1598, p. 332.

P. 188.
Fal.
I deny your major: if you will deny the ſheriff, ſo.

"An anonymous writer," we are informed, "ſuppoſes, that Falſtaff here intends a quibble. Major, which ſheriff brought to his mind, ſignifies as well one of the parts of a logical propoſition, as the principal officer of a corporation."—"To render this [65]ſuppoſition probable," ſays the editor, "it ſhould be proved, that the mayor of a corporation was called in Shakſpeares time ma-jor."

The ſuppoſition would appear ſufficiently probable although the pronunciation contended for could not be eſtabliſhed by a quotation. Every one knows that Mayor is Major in Latin, which would be enough for the preſent purpoſe. The proof required can only be neceſſary for one who has every where betrayed the profoundeſt ignorance of his authors language, and who pretends to have collated editions, which, if we may judge from the blunders of his own, he has never looked into. The identical pronunciation in queſtion happens, fortunately enough, to be preſerved in one of our authors own plays, the Firſt part of K. Henry VI. as printed in the "only ancient authentic edition," the folio of 1623.

Major farewell: thou doo'ſt but what thou may'ſt.

KING HENRY V.

P. 508
Flu.
Gots ploot! up to the preaches, &c.

Nothing need or can be added to what has been already urged againſt this corrupted text and prevaricating comment. See the Quip Modeſt, &c. p. 27.

How unfortunate is it, how injurious to the memory [66]of this great and admirable writer, that his beſt ſcenes ſhould be thus mangled and deformed by a reſtoration, equally impudent and fooliſh, of what he himſelf has thought fit to alter or reject! Such conduct deſerves a pillory rather than a pamphlet.

P. 584.
Toward Calais: grant him there; there ſeen.

"If Toward," the editor obſerves, "be not abbreviated, our author with his accuſtomed licence uſes one of theſe words as a diſſyllable, while to the other he aſſigns only its due length."

Arrah! my dear, this will be after mending the matter by making bad worſe. The line already wants one ſyllable, if toward be abbreviated it will want two—and then there will be ten. So that take two from ten, and there remains ten. Our editor is a notable arithmetician in his way: he can multiply one ſyllable into two or three, reduce two or three to one, and play a thouſand ſuch tricks, which neither Cocker nor Breſlaw ever once dreamt of. I am apt to ſuſpect, however, after all, that the above obſervation labours under a capital error of the preſs; and that, inſtead of the words "our author with his accuſtomed licence," we ſhould read "our editor with his accuſtomed ignorance."

VOL. VI.

[67]

FIRST PART OF KING HENRY VI.

P. 22.
Gloſter, we'll meet to thy coſt, be ſure.

"The latter word" being "here uſed as a diſſyllable," we are to read the line thus: ‘Gloſ-ter, we'll meet to thy coſt be ſu-ùre, than which nothing can be more Malonious—harmonious I would ſay.

P. 30
A ſtatelier pyramis to her I'll rear
Than Rhodope's or Memphis every was.

Mr. Steevens having propoſed to read—of Memphis, as Shakſpeare unqueſtionably wrote, this ſagacious Hibernian obſerves "Rhodope was of Thrace, not of Memphis." Well! and whoever ſuppoſed ſhe was of Memphis? But her pyramis was there; which is ſufficient authority for the correction.

P. 44.
Enter Mortimer.

Mr. Steevens, from the MS. notes of Mr. Edwards, [68]having obſerved "that Shakſpeare has varied from the truth of hiſtory, to introduce this ſcene between Mortimer and Richard Plantagenet," "a half-informed Remarker on this note" (they are the words of the gentle Edmond) "ſeems to think that he has totally over-turned it, by quoting the following paſſage from Hall's Chronicle: "During which parliament [held in the third year of Henry VI. 1425.] came to London Peter Duke of Quimber,—which of the Duke of Exeter, &c. was highly feſted.—During which ſeaſon Edmond Mortymer, the laſt Erle of Marche of that name, (whiche long tyme had bene reſtrayned from hys liberty and finally waxed lame) diſceaſed without yſſue, whoſe inheritance deſcended to Lord Richard Plantagenet," &c. as if a circumſtance which Hall has mentioned to mark the time of Mortimer's death, neceſſarily aſcertained the place where it happened alſo. The fact is, that this Edmund Mortimer did not die in London, but at Trim in Ireland." So far, ſo good.

This teſty critic ſeems to ſmart ſo much from ſome corrections of that ſame "half-informed Remarker," that he may be readily allowed to avail himſelf of every opportunity of abuſing him, particularly where he happens to anticipate a quotation which an all-informed editor would have been glad to produce. The paſſage in Hall (and it is copyed by Hollinſhed) would be ſufficient, it was ſaid, to juſtify Shakſpeare "even if the fact were otherwiſe;" and [69]ſo it undoubtedly is, notwithſtanding either the great learning or little ſcurrility of Edmond Malone. The hiſtorian does not, to be ſure, expreſsly ſay that the Earl of March dyed in the Tower; but no perſon of common ſenſe can think that he meant to relate an event which happened to a ſound, free man in Ireland, as happening to a lame priſoner during the time a particular perſon was feaſting in London. In fact, he does ſay that this nobleman dyed in priſon, and that by ſuch priſon he meant either the Tower, or ſome place of confinement at no great diſtance, is almoſt certain, not only from the circumſtance already mentioned, but from a paſſage in the preceding part of his book, where he expreſsly tells us that "the Erle of Marche was euer kepte in the courte vnder ſuch a keper that he could nether doo or attempte any thyng agaynſte the king without his knowledge, and dyed without iſſue." If he did not mean the Tower, let Mr. Malone ſay what priſon he did mean. To what purpoſe is it that the actual truth was otherwiſe? Our author had neither Rymer, nor Dugdale, nor Sandford, to conſult, and it cannot ſurely be expected that he ſhould have gone to examine the record office: He naturally took for fact what he found in Hiſtory, and if the hiſtorian were but half-informed, how could he help it? He was writing a play, not a chronicle. I know, much better, I am perſuaded, than Mr. Malone, how little either Hall or Hollinſhed is to be depended on in [70]matter of fact. Is the death of Edmond Mortimer of greater conſequence than the intended marriage of lady Bona, or the capture, impriſonment and eſcape of K. Edward IV. both which are abſolutely fabulous and without the ſlighteſt poſſible foundation. And why is not Shakſpeare, who has adopted theſe two lying ſtories, charged with having in theſe inſtances "varyed from the truth of hiſtory?" The remark was natural enough to Mr. Edwards, who did not know what ſort of hiſtories our author conſulted; neither indeed is the editors defence of it otherwiſe, being a pedantic parade of hiſtorical knowledge picked up for the occaſion, to faſten Shakſpeare with a charge which every one muſt think frivolous, and which he knew to be unjuſt.

SECOND PART OF K. HENRY VI.

P. 134.
She's tickled now, her fume needs no ſpurs.

"Tickled," it ſeems, "is here uſed as a triſyllable. The editor of the ſecond folio, not perceiving this, reads—"her fume can need no ſpurs;" in which he has been followed by all the ſubſequent editors."

The editor of the ſecond folio, then, has had the uſe of his ears, which is more than can be ſaid of his Hibernian ſucceſſor. It requires a certain degree of folly, peculiar to this all-accompliſhed critic, not to [71]perceive—that whether tickled be a diſſyllable, or a triſyllable or a quadriſyllable, cannot make the ſlighteſt difference; the defect of the line being in another quarter.—According to the hypotheſis of our Boeotian editor, we ought to read the line as follows: ‘She's tic-kle-èd now, hèr fume needs no ſpurs.’ What a pity it is that Mr. Malone does not appear upon the ſtage!

THIRD PART OF K. HENRY VI.

P. 267.
Prove it, Henry, and thou ſhalt be king.

"Henry," being "frequently uſed by Shakſpeare and his contemporaries as a word of three ſyllables," muſt be thus pronounced: ‘Prove it, He-nè-ry, and thou ſhalt be king.’

P. 272.
When I return with victory from the field.

"Folio—to the field. The true reading is found in the old play."

The true reading is found in the ſecond folio; which affords one out of many proofs that this edition is not what the editors malice or ignorance has choſen to repreſent it.

P. 276.
[72]
Mſ.
The queen will all the Northern earls and lords
Intend here to beſiege you in this caſtle.

"An anonymous Remarker," we are told, "very confidently aſſerts that "this ſcene, ſo far as reſpects Yorks oath and his reſolution to break it, proceeds entirely from the authors imagination. His oath," however, "is in record, and what his reſolution was when he marched from London at the head of a large body of men, and ſent the meſſage aboveſtated to his ſon, it is not very difficult to conjecture."

A little ſuperficial reading, and a conſummate ſtock of aſſurance authoriſe this hypercritical commentator to abuſe what he does not underſtand. The "anonymous Remarker," confidently if it muſt be, aſſerts that the ſcene in queſtion, in which Edward and Richard perſuade their father to break his oath, had no foundation in hiſtory; and gives this reaſon for it, that, "neither the Earl of March nor Richard was then at Sandal; the latter being likewiſe a mere child, ſcarcely more than (if indeed ſo much as) nine years old:" in fact he was but juſt turned of eight. How, therefor, does the Iriſh editor, with all his pitiful caviling and malignity, pick out from theſe words that York had never taken an oath? And, though he and Warwick did leave London [73]with 5 or 6,000 men, and might ſend a meſſage to his ſon to follow them, it was with the kings own authority, to ſuppreſs an inſurrection againſt the eſtabliſhed government: nor could either his attacking, or his defending himſelf againſt, the queen or prince be any breach of his oath. So that the Remarkers aſſertion, however confident, is ſtrictly true; which is more than this ingenuous Hibernian can always ſay of his own, which are at the ſame time very ſeldom diſtinguiſhable by diffidence.

It is not true that the queen and prince were at York, nor do we find from any good authority that they were ſent to by the King. Though, if they had been ſent to, and, inſtead of obeying the requiſition, had employed themſelves in raiſing a rebellion, it would have been perfectly conſonant with the dukes oath and duty to have prevented or quelled it. But in fact, whatever concern the queen might have in the Yorkſhire inſurrection, ſhe did not return from Scotland till after the battle of Wakefield.

What ſort of hiſtories the Iriſh editor conſults I am at a loſs to imagine; and as he does not chooſe to cite them, I ſhall for once follow his example.*

[74]The abſurd note at p. 278. being founded in groſs miſapprehenſion, or profound ignorance, is unworthy of more particular notice.

P. 289.
So many years ere I ſhall ſheer the fleece.

"Mr. Rowe," we are told, "changed years to months; which was followed by the ſubſequent editors; and in the next line inſerted the word weeks, not obſerving that hours is uſed as a diſſyllable. Years," it ſeems, "is in that line likewiſe uſed as a word of two ſyllables."

The reaſon of Mr. Rowes changing years to months, and inſerting weeks was not, as this equally ſuperficial and blundering commentator imagines, purely on account of the meaſure, but becauſe the king has already mentioned weeks and years, and afterward enumerates months. Theſe two curious diſſyllables it muſt be confeſſed, help the metre prodigiously: but, in fact, the editor ſhould be expected to rehearſe his text to the purchaſer, as no one will ever be able to read it without his inſtructions. The line in queſtion would ſeem to be accented thus: ‘So mi-nutes, hou-ers, days, months, and ye-àrs.

P. 360.
Now brother Richard, lord Haſtings, and the reſt.

[75]One of the former commentators having, very judiciously, propoſed to omit the word lord, our ingenious editor obſerves that brother, like many ſimilar words, is here uſed by Shakſpeare as a monoſyllable, and the metre was to his ear perfect. He ſhould rather have ſaid, that it is ſo to his own: which indeed, I can as eaſily believe as pardon; ſince the gentleman unfortunately labours under a natural defect, to which whoever interpolated the word muſt have been alſo ſubject, though not in an equal degree. The ears of Shakſpeare were formed very differently from Mr. Malones. Obſerve how ſmoothly the verſe will run! ‘Now brò'r Ri-chàrd, lord Haſtings, and the reſt.’

The editor is unable to perceive the conſequences of his own ſyſtem. The luminous arrangement of his ideas is altogether wonderful!

K. RICHARD III.

P. 569.
When didſt thou ſleep when ſuch a deed was done?
Q. Mar.
When holy Harry dy'd, and my ſweet ſon.

"The editor of the ſecond folio," ſays our acute critic, "changed When to Why, which has been [76]adopted by all the ſubſequent editors; though Margarets anſwer evidently refers to the word found in the original copy."

The editor of the ſecond folio ſeems to have underſtood his authors meaning, which is by no means the caſe with his "flimſy" antagoniſt. Why is "evidently" right. How happens it, exclaims the queen, that Heav'n ſlept when ſuch a deed was done! Margaret, catching at the words ſuch a deed, adds when holy Henry and my ſon were murdered.

If When were right the queen would be guilty of a manifeſt abſurdity, as the queſtion would anſwer itſelf. But an Iriſh editor muſt have an Iriſh text.

P. 588.
What heir of York is there alive, but we?
And who is Englands king, but great Yorks heir?

"Richard," ſays the editor, "aſks this queſtion in the plenitude of power, and no one dares to anſwer him. But they whom he addreſſes, had they not been intimidated, might have told him, that there was a male heir of the houſe of York alive, who had a better claim to the throne than he; Edward earl of Warwick the only ſon of the uſurpers elder brother George duke of Clarence; and Elizabeth, the eldeſt daughter of Edward IV. and all her ſiſters, had a better title than either of them."

[77]Either this frivolous commentator is "profoundly ignorant" of the hiſtory of the monarch whom he chooſes to call uſurper, or wilfully miſrepreſents it. King Richard, it is well known, had as good a title to the crown as the late king William or queen Anne, or the reigning houſe of Hanover. The iſſue of King Edward had been baſtardized, the duke of Clarence attainted, and himſelf declared the undoubted heir of Richard duke of York, BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT: and what better title has the preſent king? It might as well be ſaid that, when he, by his champion, challenged all the world to diſpute his right, he did it "in the plentitude of power;" and that they whom he addreſſed, "had they not been intimidated, might have told him that there was a male heir of the houſe of 'STUART' alive, who had a better claim to the throne than he!" An act of parliament is of no more force in the 17th or 18th century than it was in the 15th.

VOL. VII.

CORIOLANUS.

P. 193.

"The etymology which Dr. Johnſon has given in his dictionary—"MALKIN, from Mal or Mary, and kin, the diminutive termination,"—is, I apprehend, erroneous." MALONE.

[78]Mr. Malones apprehenſion ariſes from his ignorance of the Engliſh language. The diminutives Wilkin, Tomkin, Jenkin, Perkin, Simkin, &. &c. ſufficiently corroborate Dr. Johnſons etymology; and they who know to what the diminutive of Margaret has given a name can be at no loſs to account for the reaſon of Malkin being degraded to ſignify a mop of clouts, or a ſcarecrow: neither of which ſignifications, by the way, has anything to do with the text. But ſuch is the abſurd conſequence of an Iriſh editor attempting the illuſtration of an Engliſh author.

P. 159.

Corioli.] As the editor makes an uncommon fuſs with his pretenſions of adhering to the old copy, let him give reaſon why he has choſen to read Corioli, not only in oppoſition to his original, but to Shakſpeares authority,—Norths Plutarch. This, however, is not mentioned as the only inſtance he has given us of his want of truth, fidelity, candour, and conſiſtency.

P. 220.
Sic.
You ſhew too much of that.

"This ſpeech is given in the old copy to Cominius. It was rightly attributed to Sicinius by Mr. Theobald."

Having neither Theobalds edition nor the firſt [79]folio at preſent before me, I ſhall leave the above aſſertion to its credit. But this I can ſay, that the ſecond folio, which, if it is not to be called an "old copy," is clearly not a very modern one, gives the ſpeech to Sicinius; and I, for one, do not believe that the firſt gives it to any body elſe. If it does, the ſecond folio is good for ſomething; which is more than any one will be found to ſay of Mr. Malones edition, at the end of a century and a half, ſhould it ſo long have the unmerited good fortune to eſcape the figs and pepper to which it is deſtined.

P. 237.
Becauſe that now it lies you on to ſpeak,
To the people; not by your own inſtruction,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
But with ſuch words that are but roted in
Your tongue, though but baſtards and ſyllables
Of no allowance to your boſoms truth.

The editor being as devoid of harmony as one of the long ear'd fraternity, naturally thinks, if he be capable of thinking,—for, as he elſewhere makes his author obſerve,

—cogitation
Reſides not in the man who does not think,—

that all his readers muſt be as defectively organized as himſelf. How elſe could he have printed ſuch [80]execrable hobbling lines as coming from Shakſpeare? He will not have ſenſe to perceive the ſuperiority of the following arrangement;—it is not intended for him. To offer him harmonious verſes would be literally throwing pearls to ſwine.

Becauſe
That now it lies you on to ſpeak to th' people,
Not by your own inſtruction, nor by th' matter
Which your heart prompts you to, but with ſuch words
That are but roted in your tongue, but baſtards,
Of no allowance to your boſoms truth.

Prompts you to is the reading of the ſecond folio. The words Though and and ſyllables have been interpolated by ſuch another editor as himſelf; as they only ſerve to make nonſenſe of the paſſage. But, indeed, ſenſe or nonſenſe, harmony or diſcord, verſe or proſe are all the ſame to him.

P. 283.
If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,
My name hath touch'd your ears.

A lot, here, Dr Johnſon ſays, is a prize. It certainly is ſo; though our ſagacious Hibernian believes him miſtaken. Menenius, he imagines, only means to ſay that it is mo [...] [...] an equal chance that his [81]name had touch'd their ears: which is preciſely the effect of Dr. Johnſons explanation. But, adds he, if lot ſignifyed prize, there being in every lottery many more blanks than prizes, Menenius muſt be ſuppoſed to ſay, that the chance of his name having reached their ears was very ſmall: a criticiſm exactly calculated for the meridian of Tipperary. Menenius ſays it is prizes to blanks, ſomething to nothing, 20,000l. to a piece of waſte paper, &c. A lot is what one gains in the lottery; and our learned editor, no doubt, if he got a blank, would ſay he had gain'd a loſs. Neither Shakſpeare, however, nor Menenius was an Iriſhman.

JULIUS CAESAR.

P. 334.
Are then in council and the ſtate of a man.

Such, it ſeems, is the reading of the elder copy. "The editor of the ſecond folio omitted the article, probably from a miſtaken notion concerning the metre; and all the ſubſequent editors have adopted his alteration. Many words of two ſyllables," however, "are uſed by Shakſpeare as taking up the time of only one; as whether, either, brother, lover, gentle, ſpirit; &c. and I ſuppoſe," concludes this profound critic, "council is ſo uſed here."

There can be no occaſion, I ſhould think, to make [82]any remark upon a note of which the premiſſes are ſo falſe, and the concluſion ſo fooliſh. Neither our author nor any other author in the world ever uſed ſuch words as either, brother, lover, gentle, ſpirit as monoſyllables; and though whether is ſometimes ſo contracted, the old copies on that occaſion uſually print where. It is, in ſhort, morally impoſſible that two ſyllables ſhould be no more than one.

P. 356.
—If this be known,
Caſſius or Caeſar never ſhall turn back,
For I will ſlay myſelf.

The editor believes that Shakſpeare wrote ‘Caſſius on Caeſar never ſhall turn back,’ And ſays, the next line ſtrongly ſupports this conjecture. He muſt mean, it is preſumed, in the Iriſh way; as a mere Engliſh reader would conclude that the next line totally deſtroys it. If, adds he, the conſpiracy was diſcovered, and the aſſaſſination of Caeſar rendered impracticable by "prevention," Caſſius could have no hope of being able to prevent Caeſar from "turning back; and in all events this conſpirators "ſlaying himſelf" could not produce that effect.

It is much to be lamented that the legiſlature has not prevented this miſconceiving, blundering foreigner [83]from diſhonouring and debaſing the margin of Shakſpeare by ſuch palpable abſurdities. Caſſius ſays, if the plot be diſcovered, at all events either he or Caeſar ſhall never return alive, for, if the latter cannot be killed, he is determined to ſlay himſelf. The ſenſe is as plain, as the alternative is juſt and neceſſary, or the propoſed reading ignorant and abſurd.

P. 376.
Even at the baſe of Pompeys ſtatue.

If even, ſays the editor, be conſidered as a monoſyllable, the metre, of which to be ſure he is an admirable judge, will be defective. But though it is not our authors practice to make this adverb a diſſyllable, yet clearly if we treat it as one, the defect is removed, and the metre exactly ſuited to "the delicate ears" of this Iriſh Midas; whoſe admirers are to read the line thus: ‘E-vēn ăt thēe băſe ōf Pŏmpēyes ſtă-tūe,’

P. 377.
For I have neither writ, nor words, nor worth.

The firſt folio, by an evident blunder, having writ, is followed by our congenial editor, who does not like to ſee a blunder corrected. Wit, the reading of the ſecond folio, will receive the approbation of every one who has ſenſe.

P. 383.
[84]
Our beſt friends made, our means ſtretch'd to the utmoſt.

We are indebted for the three laſt words to the conceit of the preſent editor, who has had the modeſty to advance them to the honour of a place in the text. The ſecond folio, from ſome good authority, no doubt, reads: ‘Our beſt friends made, and our beſt means ſtretch'd out. Which, whether he underſtand it or not, has an evident and eaſy ſenſe, and is perfectly in our authors manner. ‘—ſtretch'd tò the utmoſt’ is much too Maloniſh for ſo correct and elegant a writer.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

P. 466.
Go to then; your conſiderate ſtone.

Sir W. Blackſtone having remarked that the metre of this line is deficient, the editor, with his uſual modeſty obſerves that "Your, like hour, is uſed as a diſſyllable; the metre therefore is not defective." [85]Defective? no, certainly; nothing can be more harmonious: ‘Go tō then; yōu-er cōn-ſi-dē-rate ſtōne.’ However, as Enobarbus, to whom it belongs, generally ſpeaks in plain proſe, there is no occaſion for any further attempt to harmonize it.

P. 474.
—Good night dear lady.—
Good night, ſir.

"Theſe laſt words, which in the only authentick copy of this play are given to Antony, the modern editors," according to Mr. Malone, "have aſſigned to Octavia. I," however, he adds, "ſee no need of change." He addreſſes himſelf to Caeſar, who immediately replies, Good night." The firſt of theſe "modern editors" happens to be his old friend the editor of the ſecond folio (which he pretends to have collated with ſo much care), who appears, from this and numberleſs other inſtances, to have had a copy of the firſt folio corrected by the players who publiſhed it, or ſome other well-informed perſon. That Mr. Malone ſees "no need of change" is the ſtrongeſt poſſible reaſon for believing that a change is abſolutely neceſſary. And ſo it certainly is: Antony has already ſaid "Good night, ſir," to Caeſar, in the three firſt words of his ſpeech: the repetition would be abſurd.

P. 479.
[86]
Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Though the firſt word is evidently a miſprint for Rain, as it has been given by Sir T. Hanmer and others, the editor ſuſpects no corruption. "The term employed in the text," he ſays, "is much in the ſtyle of the ſpeaker;" (what he means by that is difficult to ſay;) "and is ſupported inconteſtably by a paſſage in Julius Caeſar," which inconteſtably does not ſupport it at all, the idea being perfectly diſtinct. The term employed, however, as well as the note upon it, is much in the ſtyle of the editor; and it would be a pity to loſe any opportunity of laughing at his bulls and blunders; which, it muſt be nevertheleſs admitted, are as impertinent in the margin of Shakſpeare as a buffoon would be in a church.

Ram is likewiſe a vulgar word, never uſed in our authors plays, but once by Falſtaff, where he deſcribes his ſituation in the buck-baſket. Though if, in the Tempeſt, the negligence of a preſs-man had left. ‘—Heavens ram grace,’ this judicious critic would have ſupported that authentic reading in the ſame way. For, as he has elſewhere juſtly obſerved, "If ſuch capricious innovations were to be admitted, every line in theſe plays [87]might be changed." Some people are too ignorant to innovate.

P. 499.
Spake you of Caeſar? How? the nonpareil!

"How, I believe, was here printed by miſtake for ho!" MALONE.

It was not; and ho, which this ingenuous annotator found in the ſecond folio, is nothing more than an accidental tranſpoſition of oh. Oh Antony! oh thou Arabian bird!’ The editor can pilfer, though he cannot praiſe.

P. 508
Then, world, thou haſt a pair of chaps no more,
And throw between them all the food thou haſt,
They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?

Dr. Johnſons emendation certainly deſerved a place in the text; and a very ſlight alteration would prevent its deſtroying the metre, which any but our aſinego of an editor will inſtantly perceive. ‘—grind the one the other—’ will never do. The meaſure is perfect in the old reading, which requires only one ſyllable for another. Shakſpeare wrote: ‘They'll grind each other. Where is Antony?’

P. 575.
[88]
Being ſo fruſtrate, tell him he mocks us by
The pauſes that he makes.

The two laſt words of the firſt line are added by the preſent Iriſh editor, who obſerves that "the defect of the metre," of which he knows as much as a ſuperannuated jack-aſs, "ſhews that ſomething was omitted." Former editors ſupplyed the meaſure by reading ‘Being ſo fruſtrated, tell him he mocks;’ which, it muſt be confeſſed, does not afford an eaſy ſenſe. Shakſpeare, however, would never have written the above hobbling line, which has no ſort of pretenſions to metre. We may read: ‘Being ſo fruſtrated, he mocks us by.’

VOL. VIII.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

P. 27.
The ear, taſte, touch, ſmell, all pleas'd from thy table riſe.

"The ear," it ſeems, "was intended to be contracted into one ſyllable; and table alſo was probably [89]uſed as taking up only the time of a monoſyllable." This nonſenſe is to juſtify the retention of all, which better judges had found it neceſſary to omit, or rather to change for ſmell. Mr. Malone reads the line thus, that is, if he can read at all: ‘Th'ear, taſte, touch, ſmell, all pleas'd from thy tāil riſe.’

P. 40.
The clamorous demands of date-broken bonds.

The old editions read: ‘—of debt, broken bonds.’ Hanmer and others omit the ſyllable, which the preſent editor has thus judiciously reſtored; being unable to perceive that he was injuring the metre, without improving the ſenſe.

P. 52.
—This ſlave
Unto his honour has my lords meat in him.

The modern editors have concurred in reading— ‘Unto this hour— as unqueſtionably Shakſpeare wrote. But the corruption, being manifeſt nonſenſe, is properly replaced in the preſent text, where it will find nothing to put it out of countenance.

P. 61.
[90]
The devil knew not what he did, when he made man politick; he croſs'd himſelf by't: and I cannot think but in the end, the villanies of man will ſet him clear.

The meaning, as elucidated by this perſpicacious critic is as follows: The devil did not know what he was about when he made man crafty and intereſted; he thwarted himſelf by it; and I cannot but think that at laſt the enormities of mankind will riſe to, ſuch a height as to make even Satan himſelf, in compariſon appear (what he would leaſt of all wiſh to be) ſpotleſs and innocent; which ſeems much more obſcure than the text itſelf. The editor has omitted three very weak notes of Warburton, Johnſon and Tollett, to make way for his own nonſenſe; but why the paſſage ſhould have required a note, except to inform us that the commentator did not underſtand it, is not eaſy to conceive. The devils folly in making man politic is to appear in this, that he will at the long run be too many for his old maſter, and get free of his bonds. The villanies of man are to ſet himſelf clear, not the devil, to whom he is, by ignorant enthuſiaſts, ſuppoſed to be in thralldom.

P. 63.
Your maſters confidence was above mine,
Elſe, ſurely, his had equall'd,

[91]Our modeſt Hibernian, after giving an interpretation, which he profeſſes to think wrong, becauſe "a ſhallow Remarker" has endeavoured to repreſent it as unintelligible, allows it may be ſo to him, as the wit of ſome men (meaning, of courſe, his own) like Falſtaffs deſert "is too thick to ſhine, and too heavy to mount." "This Remarker, however," he proceeds to relate, "after a feeble attempt at jocularity, and ſaying that he ſhall take no further notice of this editors ſee-ſaw conjectures, with great gravity propoſes a comment evidently formed on the latter of them, as an original interpretation of his own, on which the reader may ſafely rely."

Friend Butler ſomewhere tells us, there is no argument like matter of fact: we ſhall preſently ſee who is the thief.

In the edition of 1778, the latter of this ingenious gentlemans "ſee-ſaw conjectures" is as follows: "The paſſage however may be explained thus:—His may refer to mine; as if he had ſaid: Your maſter's confidence was above my maſters; elſe ſurely his, i. e. the ſum demanded from my maſter (for that is the laſt antecedent) had been equal to the ſum demanded from yours."

The Remark is: "Your maſter, it ſeems, had more confidence in lord Timon than mine, otherwiſe, his (i. e. my maſters) debt (i. e. the ſum due to him from Timon) would, certainly, have been as great as your maſter (i. e. as the money which Timon owes [92]to your maſter); that is, my maſter, being as rich as yours, could and would have advanced Timon as large a ſum as your maſter has advanced him, if he (i. e. my maſter) had thought it prudent to do ſo."

Very well: now comes "the true explication," which the editor ſays he "alſo formerly propoſed;" an aſſertion, if he mean in the edition of 1778, which is evidently untrue. The reader may compare them.

"His may refer to mine. "It ſhould ſeem that the confidential friendſhip ſubſiſting between your maſter and Timon was greater than that ſubſiſting between Timon and my maſter; elſe ſurely his ſum, i. e. the ſum borrowed from my maſter, [the laſt antecedent] had been as large as the ſum borrowed from yours."

It muſt be perfectly clear, that the Remarker could not be indebted to a note which, ſo far as it is intelligible, ſeems diametrically oppoſite to his idea. It is equally ſo, that the editor has availed himſelf of the above "ſhallow" Remark, to vary the expreſſion of his "ſee-ſaw conjecture," and give it a ſenſe it would otherwiſe never have had. Q. E. D.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

P. 145.
And ſkill-leſs as unpractis'd infancy.

Dr. Johnſon ſays that "Mr. Dryden, in his alteration [93]of this play, has changed ſkill-leſs to artleſs, not for the better, becauſe ſkill-leſs refers to ſkill and ſkilful. "A very fond and ſkill-leſs Remarker, on this note," adds the editor, "aſks and does not artleſs refer to art and artful."

Without intereſting myſelf at all in what I do not profeſs to underſtand, I ſhall only beg leave to ſay that if Mr. Malone meant, by this piece of inſolent vulgarity, to aſſert that there was any ſuch queſtion in the "Remarks on the laſt edition, &c. 1785, the aſſertion is a groſs falſehood. He ſeems to commit forgery for the ſake of abuſe.

K. LEAR.

P. 583.

Here our learned editor, incapable of diſtinguiſhing hiſtory from romance, quotes Geoffrey of Monmouth for "an hiſtorical fact." In a ſubſequent page (601) he aſſures us that "Nero is introduced in the preſent play above 800 years before he was born." He ſhould therefor ſeem to have ſome ſecret method for aſcertaining the aera of perſons that never exiſted, and of events that never happened. It cannot, however, be by means of the black art, as he is certainly no conjurer.

P. 587.
[94]
Your old kind father, whoſe frank heart gave you all.

Father, brother, rather, he has already obſerved, he ſays, were ſometimes uſed by Shakſpeare as monoſyllables: ‘Your old kind fa'r, whoſe frank heart gave you all.’

The folios read: ‘Your old kind father, whoſe frank heart gave all.’

The poetical reader will judge which line is moſt likely to have fallen from Shakſpeare.

VOL. IX.

ROMEO AND JULIET.

P. 66.
Jul.
Romeo!
Rom.
Madam.

"Thus," ſays Mr. Malone, "the original copy of 1597. In the two ſubſequent copies and the folio we have—My niece. What word was intended by it is difficult," for him, "to ſay. The editor of the [95]ſecond folio," he adds, "ſubſtituted—My ſweet:" which, being an emendation equally juſt and beautiful, and, by his own admiſſion, more "tender" than what he calls "the original word," he rejects as an arbitrary ſubſtitution, "all the alterations in that copy" being "made at random;" not excluding thoſe which this candid commentator has elſewhere thought fit to adopt.

Madam, which is given to Romeo, in the firſt copy, by a mere miſtake of the compoſitor, evidently belongs to the nurſe, who is ſuppoſed to call Juliet from within. Shakſpeare, however, thought proper to alter the word to ſweet, and give it to Romeo; or indeed one of the ſpeeches may have dropped out at the preſs. Neece is a palpable miſprint.

P. 100.
Hood my unmann'd blood.

"To hood a hawk, that is to cover its head with a hood," we are here told, "was an uſual practice, before the bird was ſuffered to fly at its quarry."

If ſuch a practice ever prevailed, I conclude it muſt have been in our luminous editors native country. It will appear a very ſtrange doctrine to the amateurs of this ſavage amuſement, that the hawk ſhould be flown at game which it was not ſuffered to ſee. The fact is that they, on this occaſion, took the hood off.

P. 113.
[96]
But thou ſtew'ſt Tybalt; there are thou happy too.

"Thus," he ſays, "the firſt quarto. In the ſubſequent quartos, and the folio too is omitted."

Now, reader, be pleaſed to mark the candour, the integrity of this ingenuous critic. The editor of the ſecond folio, who, he pretends, has been the moſt arbitrary, ignorant and capricious of the whole ſet, reads exactly with the firſt quarto. What ſay you to this, M. Malone? Is this too an alteration made at random and ſuggeſted by ignorance and caprice?

P. 123.
When the ſun ſets the air doth drizzle dew.

The reading of ſome editions is—the earth doth drizzle dew—which our editor ſays is philoſophically true, and ought to be preferred.

No one I believe ever before heard of the earths drizzleing dew. The editor ſeems to have got his philoſophy our of Dr. Hills Inſpector, which, to be ſure, is a very proper ſchool for ſuch a novice. That Shakſpeare, however, thought it was the air and not the earth that drizzled dew is evident from other paſſages.

So in K. John: ‘Before the dew of evening fall.

[97]Again in K. Henry VIII.

His dews fall every where.

Again, in the ſame play: ‘The dews of heaven fall thick in bleſſings on her.’

Again, in Hamlet: Dews of blood fell.

I ſuppoſe we are in theſe places to read earth for heaven and riſe or roſe inſtead of fall or fell.

HAMLET.

P. 217.
Lends the tongue vows: theſe blazes, daughter.

Some epithet, he ſays, has been omitted in conſequence of which the metre is defective. There is not the ſmalleſt ground for ſuch a ſuppoſition: Blazes is a quadriſyllable. We may therefor read: ‘Lends the tongue vows: theſe bla-a-à-zes, daughter.’

P. 426.
Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts.

"A feeble Remarker," as this Herculean commentator elegantly obſerves, "aſks "was the relationſhip [98]between the uſurper and the deceaſed king a ſecret confined to Horatio?" "No," he anſwers, "but the murder of Hamlet by Claudius was a ſecret which the young prince had imparted to Horatio alone; and to this it is he principally, though covertly alludes."

And, pray, what is all this to the ſignification of the word carnal? But it is natural enough for a feeble Remark to produce a pitiful cavil from a half-informed hypercritic.

OTHELLO.

P. 445.
—muſt be belee'd and calm'd.

"The lee-ſide of a ſhip," we are told, "is that on which the wind blows. To lee, or to be lee'd may," therefor "mean, to fall to leeward, or to loſe the advantage of the wind."

Alexander the great, after liſtening to the laboured oration of a pedantic philoſopher on the art of war, obſerved that he had never heard a fool talk ſo learnedly. This compliment cannot poſſibly be applyed to our editor, who always talks like himſelf; pretending to know every thing and knowing nothing. One would have thought that every fool knew that the lee ſide of a ſhip is that—not on which, but from which the wind blows. The editor has read in the [99]newſpapers of a lee-ſhore, which would be there rightly interpreted, a ſhore on which the wind blows; but it is ſo termed in reference to the ſhip, as being a ſhore on its lee ſide. Belee'd is a word formed like becalm'd, &c. and means, as other perſons have rightly explained it, that Caſſio intercepted the wind of favour or preferment.

P. 537.
Keep leets and lawdays.

"The leet," our learned editor obſerves, "according to Lambard, was a court or juriſdiction above the wapentake or hundred, comprehending three or four hundreds. The juriſdiction of this court is now in moſt places merged in that of the county court."

There is, I am perſuaded, ſome miſrepreſentation as well as ſome ignorance in this note. As to the firſt charge, he may acquit himſelf of it by producing a paſſage in which Lambard has any ſuch aſſertion. Upon the ſecond count, Ignorance, he muſt be clearly convicted. The Leet being a criminal court as well as a court of record never had, nor poſſibly could have, the ſlighteſt connection with the county court, which is neither the one nor the other, and conſequently cannot have merged in it. You ſee, therefor, M. Malone, that your friend Minſhew is not always to be depended upon.

VOL. X.

[100]

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

P. 388.
Was there none elſe in Rome to make a ſtale of.

"The words, there, elſe, and of, are not found in the old copies. This conjectural emendation was made by the editor of the ſecond folio."

Since our critic has elſewhere ſhewn (as he ſays) "that all the alterations in this edition were made at random," and that the editor was entirely ignorant of our authors phraſeology and metre, how comes i [...]; that his arbitrary innovation of no leſs than three words ſhould have been honoured with a place in our authors text? Becauſe, for once, he has omitted to perceive that Shakſpeare uſed the words none Rome, and other words of that kind, as diſſyllables and conſequently the metre "was to his ear perfect."

Was noné in Romè to make a ſtale.

P. 451.
Even from Hyperion's riſing in the eaſt.

"The [firſt] folio," ſays Mr. Steevens, "reads Epton's; the quarto Epion's: to which Mr. Malone, [101]without bluſhing, adds, "the correction was made in the ſecond folio;" moſt inconſiſtently deſerting the only true ancient authentic copies for the arbitrary emendation of an ignorant editor in an edition of no value whatever?

P. 467.

It is obſervable that our equally modeſt and conſiſtent critic thinks it "highly probable" that the ſecond ſcene of the third act of this play "was added by our author:" an opinion for which he has here attempted to ridicule a much more reſpectable character than himſelf; and one whoſe judgment ſeems, from this inſtance, at leaſt, to have been altogether upon a par with his own. See the Preface, p. lix.

APPENDIX.

P. 599.

Vol. iv. Tw. N. p. 46. He has obſerved, he ſays, that lover is elſewhere uſed by our poet as a word of one ſyllable. So, in A Midſummer Night's Dream: ‘"Tie up my lover's tongue; bring him ſilently."’

Again, in King Henry VIII. ‘"Is held no great good lover of the archbiſhops,"’ [102]As to the firſt of theſe pretended inſtances, it proves nothing; being only (whatever he may ſay to the contrary) a miſprint for love's. And every one but this ſagacious critic will perceive that the other is to be pronounced like what it is, a word of two ſyllables: ‘Is held no great good lover of th' archbiſhops.’

P. 643.

H. V.

P. 492. His noſe was as ſharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields.

On this difficult paſſage our editor had one conjecture which had luckily, it ſeems, eſcaped him when the play was printing, but he unfortunately recollected it in time for his appendix. It is that the word table is right, and the corrupted word and, which may have been miſprinted for in; and thus then the paſſage will mean—"and his note was as ſharp as a pen in a table of green fields." A pen may have been uſed for a pin-fold, and a table for a picture. The pointed ſtakes, he adds, of which pinfolds are ſometimes formed were perhaps in the poets thoughts.

Riſum teneatis? If Shakſpeare had had the pointed ſtakes of a pinfold in his minds eye he would have mentioned it, for though the ſtake may be ſharp, the pinfold is not. But why waſte a moment in the [103]conſideration of ſuch miſerable nonſenſe? Whoever knew the word pen uſed for pinfold, or a pinfold placed amidſt a parcel of green fields? We have pens for geeſe, indeed, and pens for ſheep; but no one ever before heard of the pen of an aſs.

P. 643.

P. 495. "An anonymous writer," we are told, "ſuppoſes that by the words—keep cloſe, Piſtol means keep within doors. That this was not the meaning," it ſeems, "is proved deciſively by the words of the quarto."

That this is not the meaning in the quarto may be proved deciſively by the words of that edition, but the meaning of the folio is to be aſcertained by its own: ſo that the ſuppoſition may be right enough.

Such are the obſervations which I have had to make upon this moſt ſagacious of editors, and his unparalleled edition. I muſt not, however, be underſtood to ſay that I have paid equal attention to all his abſurdities. His pages abound with examples of profound ignorance, idle conjectures, crude actions, feeble attempts at jocularity, ſlender criticiſm, ſhallow, half-informed, fond, ſkill-leſs, taſteleſs and unfounded remarks, no leſs, or poſſibly much more, worthy of contempt and deriſion than thoſe expoſed in the preſent ſheets. They can only, therefor, ſerve as a [104]haſty or imperfect ſketch of what may be done by others; if indeed either Mr. Malone or his edition be intitled to any further notice. It will be eaſily ſeen that, in the courſe of this inveſtigation, "I have endeavoured, as much as poſſible, to avoid all controverſy;" and Mr. Malone, I am ſure, has too exalted an opinion of his peculiar merits, and too ſovereign a contempt for thoſe who dare call them in queſtion, to permit that the ſerenity of his mind ſhould ſuffer a moments diſcompoſure by the appearance of an inſignificant pamphlet; well knowing that "of ſuch flimzy materials are many of the hyper-criticiſms compoſed to which the labours of the editors and commentators on Shakſpeare have given riſe."

THE END.
Notes
*
Theſe ſocieties of gentlemen (as they modeſtly intitle themſelves) are, with equal juſtice and ability, characteriſed by Dr. Brown as—"two notorious gangs of monthly and critical book-thieves, hackney'd in the ways of wickedneſs, who, in the rage of hunger and malice, firſt plunder, and then abuſe, maim, or murder, every honeſt author who is poſſeſſed of ought worth their carrying off; yet ſkulking among other vermin in cellars and garrets, keep their perſons tolerably out of ſight, and thus eſcape the hands of literary juſtice." ESTIMATE OF THE MANNERS AND PRINCIPLES OF THE TIMES, vol. II. p. 75.
*

Of this the following inſtances, occaſionally noticed, in the two firſt vols. may ſerve as the ſpecimen of a proof:

  • Vol. I. p. 80. "If thou be pleas'd"—Both the folios read—you.
  • Vol. I. p. 140. "For love is ſtill more precious in itſelf."—The old editt. agree in reading—moſt.
  • Vol. I. p. 154. "Speed. Item, ſhe can ſew.
  • "Launce. That's as much as to ſay, can ſhe ſo." Both the folios read ſow, which is manifeſtly requiſite. Probably, however, the editor may ſuppoſe ſew and ſo to have the ſame pronunciation.
  • Vol. I. p. 155. "And that I cannot help." In the old editions—cannot I.
  • Vol. I. p. 174. "As eaſily as I do tear this paper." Both folios read—his.
  • Vol. II. p. 70. "But grace being the ſoul of your complexion ſhould keep the body of it ever fair."—In the folios—ſhall.
  • Vol. II. p. 71. "Let me hear you ſpeak further." Both editions—farther; a word entirely different from further, though too frequently confounded with it by ignorant perſons: the one being the comparative of forth; the other a corruption of farer.
  • Vol. II. p. 143. "In what ſafe place you have diſpos'd my money." The old editions read—beſtow'd
  • Vol. II. p. 151. "If it be, ſir, pray eat none of it." In the folio—I pray.
  • Vol. II. p. 157. "Ay let none enter"—The old copies—Ay, and let.
  • Vol. II. p. 190. "And much different from the man he was," The folios read: "And much much different;"—the additional ſyllable being neceſſary to the metre, which the editor could not perceive.
  • Vol. II. p. Ibi. "And therefore came it that the man was mad." In the old copies—"And thereof came it."
  • Vol. II. p. 477. "Through the foreſt have I gone, "But Athenian found I none." All the old editions read—find, which is not only more elegant but more grammatical.

There is not reaſon to believe that each of the remaining volumes would not have contributed an equal number of theſe damning proofs; but in fact the ſearch required too large a portion of both time and patience.

*
He ſeldom introduces the author of the Remarks, &c. without a compliment on his profound ignorance or crude notions, the feebleneſs of his attempts at jocularity, the ſlenderneſs of his criticiſm, and the like; or the favourite epithet of a ſhallow or half-informed remarker. "And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges."
*

One paſſage of this kind is very remarkable. The firſt folio reading.

Is ſtraightway calm and boarded with a pirate

The editor of the ſecond edition, or ſome one for him, had added the d; and the printer made it claim'd. So where, inſtead of Car [...]at, in the firſt folio, the ſecond has Raccat; and inſtead of vigilance, viligance, we are to impute the compoſitors careleſsneſs to ignorance or intentional corruption.

Thus alſo the old quarto. Tightly, however, being ſtark nonſenſe, is judiciouſly preferred by Mr. Malone.
This, ſays Malone, "like all the other emendations of that copy, is the worſt and moſt improbable that could have been choſen." Ipſe dixit! He propoſes—"but man, weak, proud man."
Confutation, however, he thinks, "may be right, by his being confuted." If that is the caſe Mr. Malone himſelf may be right.
This word, he ſays, which the rime ſeems to countenance, was furniſhed, &c. Q. If the rime does not abſolutely require it, or he can find another to ſupply its place.
"One of the very few corrections of any value to be found in that copy." MALONE.
So Malone. Phebe muſt therefor be a monoſyllable.
It is a neats foot, which cannot be thought to engender choler. Beſides, the word cholerick, which Malone prefers, occurs three lines lower.
Malone, in this, as in other places, prefers the nonſenſe of the firſt edition to the ſenſe of the ſecond.
*

This poem is printed in Dodſleys Collection, of which the editor or reviſer of the edition of 1785 had been a very few years before employed in the republication. He muſt therefor know that it proved the direct reverſe of that for which he refered to it, and conſequently that he was aſſerting an untruth.

I ſhould like to know from the gentleman concerned, or any other able caſuiſt, the exact difference between aſſerting that a book proves what the aſſerter knows it diſproves, and producing, like Lauder, ſuppoſititious extracts for the purpoſe.

*
I collect from another note (p. 321) where he ſays that "neither of his daughters was married at the time when Warwick was in France negotiating a marriage between lady Bona and the king," that the learned gentleman is content either with the ſame hiſtorians whom Shakſpeare uſed, or with thoſe who have followed them: Warwick never was in France for any ſuch purpoſe: as no one but ſuch a "half-informed" note-writer can be ignorant.
Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3732 Cursory criticisms on the edition of Shakspeare published by Edmond Malone. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5997-6