”He lieth in the truckle-bed.
”While his young master lieth o’er his head.”
IV.v.21 (291,4) [Bohemian-Tartar] The French call a Bohemian what we call a Gypsey; but I believe the Host means nothing more than, by a wild appellation, to insinuate that Simple makes a strange appearance.
IV. v. 29 (291, 5) [mussel-shell] He calls poor Simple mussel-shell, because he stands with his mouth open.
IV. v. 104 (293, 6) [Primero] A game at cards.
IV. v. 122 (294, 7) [counterfeiting the action of an old woman] [T: a wood woman] This emendation is received by Sir Thomas Hammer, but rejected by Dr. Warburton. To me it appears reasonable enough.
IV. v. 130 (294, 8) [sure, one of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so cross’d] The great fault of this play, is the frequency of expressions so profane, that no necessity of preserving character can justify them. There are laws of higher authority than those of criticism.
V. v. 28 (300, 3) [my shoulders for the fellow of this walk] Who the fellow is, or why he keeps his shoulders for bin, I do not understand.
V. v. 77 (304, 9) [Fairies use flowers for their charactery] For the matter with which they make letters.
V. v. 84 (304, 1) [I smell a man of middle earth] Spirits are supposed to inhabit the ethereal regions, and fairies to dwell under ground, men therefore are in a middle station.
V. v. 99 (305, 4) [Lust is but a bloody fire] So the old copies. I once thought it should be read,
Lust is but a cloudy fire,
but Sir T. Hammer reads with less violence,
Lust is but i’ the blood a fire.
V. v. 172 (308, 8) [ignorance itself is a plummet o’er me] Though this be perhaps not unintelligible, yet it is an odd way of confessing his dejection. I should wish to read:
— ignorance itself has a plume o’ me;
That is, I am so depressed, that ignorance itself plucks me, and decks itself with the spoils of my weakness. Of the present reading, which is probably right, the meaning may be, I am so enfeebled, that ignorance itself weighs me down and oppresses me. (see 1765, II, 554, 1)
V. v. 181 (309, 1) [laugh at my wife] The two plots are excellently connected, and the transition very artfully made in this speech.
V. v. 249 (311, 2) [Page. Tell, what remedy?] In the first sketch of this play, which, as Mr. Pope observes, is much inferior to the latter performance, the only sentiment of which I regret the omission, occurs at this critical time, when Fenton brings in his wife, there is this dialogue.
Mrs. Ford. Come, mistress Page. I must be bold with you.
’Tis pity to part love that is so true.
Mrs. Page. [Aside] Although that I have miss’d in my intent,
Yet I am glad my husband’s match is cross’d.
— Here Fenton. take her. —
Eva. Come, master Page, you must needs agree.
Ford. I’ faith, Sir, come, you see your wife is pleas’d.
Page. I cannot tell, and yet my heart is eas’d;
And yet it doth me good the Doctor miss’d.
Come hither, Fenton, and come hither, daughter. (1773)
General Observation. Of this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, that it was written at the command of queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more plays; but suspecting that it might pall by continued uniformity, directed the poet to diversify his manner, by shewing him in love. No task is harder than that of writing to the ideas of another. Shakespeare knew what the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, that by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff must have suffered so much abatement, that little of his former cast would have remained. Falstaff could not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He could only counterfeit love, and his professions could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, but of money. Thus the poet approached as near as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having perhaps in the former plays completed his own idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff all his former power of entertainment.
This comedy is remarkable for the variety and number of the personages, who exhibit more characters appropriated and discriminated, than perhaps can be found in any other play.
Whether Shakespeare was the first that produced upon the English stage the effect of language distorted and depraved by provincial or foreign pronunciations, I cannot certainly decide. This mode of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise only on him, who originally discovered it, for it requires not much of either wit or judgment: its success must be derived almost wholly from the player, but its power in a skilful month, even he that despises it, is unable to resist.
The conduct of this drama is deficient; the action begins and ends often before the conclusion, and the different parts might change places without inconvenience; but its general power, that power by which all works of genius shall finally be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had reader or spectator, who did not think it too soon at an end.
Vol. II
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
Persons Represented: Varrius might be omitted, for he is only once spoken to, and says nothing.
There it perhaps not one of Shakespeare’s plays more darkened than this by the peculiarities of its authour, and the unskilfulness of its editors, by distortions of phrase, or negligence of transcription.
I.i.6 (4,4) [lists] Bounds, limits.
I.i.7 (4,5) [Then no more remains,
But that your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work]
This is a passage which has exercised the sagacity of the editors, and is now to employ mine. [Johnson adds T’s and W’s notes] Sir Tho. Hammer, having caught from Mr. Theobald a hint that a line was lost, endeavours to supply it thus.
— Then no more remains,
But that to your sufficiency you join
A will to serve us, as your worth is able.
He has by this bold conjecture undoubtedly obtained a meaning, but, perhaps not, even in his own opinion, the meaning of Shakespeare.
That the passage is more or less corrupt, I believe every reader will agree with the editors. I am not convinced that a line is lost, as Mr. Theobald conjectures, nor that the change of but to put, which Dr. Warburton has admitted after some other editor, will amend the fault. There was probably some original obscurity in the expression, which gave occasion to mistake in repetition or transcription. I therefore suspect that the authour wrote thus,
— Then no more remains. But that to your sufficiencies your worth is abled, And let them work.
Then nothing remains more than to tell you, that your virtue is now invested with power equal to your knowledge and wisdom. Let therefore your knowledge and your virtue now work together. It may easily be conceived how sufficiencies was, by an inarticulate speaker, or inattentive hearer, confounded with sufficiency as, and how abled, a word very unusual, was changed into able. For abled, however, an authority is not wanting. Lear uses it in the same sense, or nearly the same, with the Duke. As for sufficiencies, D. Hamilton, in his dying speech, prays that Charles II. may exceed both the virtues and sufficiencies of his father.
I.i.11 (6,6) [the terms For common justice, you are as pregnant in]
The later editions all give it, without authority,
— the terms
Of justice, —
and Dr. Warburton makes terms signify bounds or limits. I rather think the Duke meant to say, that Escalus was pregnant, that is, ready and knowing in all the forms of law, and, among other things, in the terms or times set apart for its administration.
I.i.18 (7,7) [we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply] [W: roll] This editor is, I think, right in supposing a corruption, but less happy in his emendation. I read,
— we have with special seal Elected him our absence to supply.
A special seal is a very natural meton
ymy for a special commission.
I.i.28 (8,8)
[There is a kind of character in thy life,
That to the observer doth thy history
Fully unfold]
Either this introduction has more solemnity than meaning, or it has a meaning which I cannot discover. What is there peculiar in this, that a man’s life informs the observer of his history? Might it be supposed that Shakespeare wrote this?
There is a kind of character in thy look.
History may be taken in a more diffuse and licentious meaning, for future occurrences, or the part of life yet to come. If this sense be received, the passage is clear and proper.
I.i.37 (8,1) [to fine issues] To great consequences. For high purposes.
I.i.41 (9,2) [But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advertise] I know not whether we may not better read,
One that can my part to him advertise,
One that can inform himself of that which it would be otherwise my part to tell him.
I.i.43 (9,3) [Hold therefore, Angelo] That is, continue to be
Angelo; hold as thou art.
I.i.47 (9,4) [first in question] That is, first called for; first appointed.
I.i.52 (9,5) [We have with a leaven’d and prepared choice Proceeded to you] [W: a levell’d] No emendation is necessary. Leaven’d choice is one of Shakespeare’s harsh metaphors. His train of ideas seems to be this. I have proceeded to you with choice mature, concocted, fermented, leavened. When bread is leavened it is left to ferment: a leavened choice is therefore a choice not hasty, but considerate, not declared as soon as it fell into the imagination, but suffered to work long in the mind. Thus explained, it suits better with prepared than levelled.
I.i.65 (10,6) [your scope is as mine own] That is, Your amplitude of power.
I.ii.22 (12,7) [in metre?] In the primers, there are metrical graces, such as, I suppose, were used in Shakespeare’s time.
I.ii.25 (12,9) [Grace is grace, despight of all controversy] [Warbarton had suspected an allusion to ecclesiastical disputes.] I am in doubt whether Shakespeare’s thoughts reached so far into ecclesiastical disputes. Every commentator is warped a little by the tract of his own profession. The question is, whether the second gentleman has ever heard grace. The first gentleman limits the question to grace in metre. Lucio enlarges it to grace in any form or language. The first gentleman, to go beyond him, says, or in any religion, which Lucio allows, because the nature of things is unalterable; grace is as immutably grace, as his merry antagonist is a wicked villain. Difference in religion cannot make a grace not to be grace, a prayer not to be holy; as nothing can make a villain not to be a villain. This seems to be the meaning, such as it is.
I.ii.28 (12,1) [there went but a pair of sheers between us] We are both of the same piece.
I.ii.35 (13,2) [be pil’d, as thou art pil’d, for a French velvet?] The jest about the pile of a French velvet alludes to the loss of hair in the French disease, a very frequent topick of our authour’s jocularity. Lucio finding that the gentleman understands the distemper so well, and mentions it so feelingly, promises to remember to drink his health, but to forget to drink after him. It was the opinion of Shakespeare’s time, that the cup of an infected person was contagious.
I.ii.50 (13,3) [To three thousand dollars a year] [A quibble intended between dollars and dolours. Hammer.] The same jest occured before in the Tempest.
I.ii.83 (15,5) [what with the sweat] This nay allude to the sweating sickness, of which the memory was very fresh in the time of Shakespeare: but more probably to the method of cure then used for the diseases contracted in brothels.
I.ii.124 (16,6)
[Thus can the demi-god, Authority,
Make us pay down, for our offence, by weight. —
The words of heaven; — on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still ’tis just]
[Warburton had emended the punctuation of the second line] I suspect that a line is lost.
I.ii.162 (18,8) [the fault, and glimpse, of newness] Fault and glimpse have so little relation to each other, that both can scarcely be right: we may read flash for fault or, perhaps we may read,
Whether it be the fault or glimpse —
That is, whether it be the seeming enormity of the action, or the glare of new authority. Yet the sane sense follows in the next lines, (see 1765, I, 275, 4)
I.ii.188 (19,2) [There is a prone and speechless dialect] I can scarcely tell what signification to give to the word prone. Its primitive and translated senses are well known. The authour may, by a prone dialect, mean a dialect which men are prone to regard, or a dialect natural and unforced, as those actions seem to which we are prone. Either of these interpretations are sufficiently strained; but such distortion of words is not uncommon in our authour. For the sake of an easier sense, we may read,
— In her youth There is a pow’r, and speechless dialect, Such as moves men.
Or thus,
There is a prompt and speechless dialect.
I.ii.194 (20,3) [under grievous imposition] I once thought it should be inquisition, but the present reading is probably right. The crime would be under grievous penalties imposed.
I.iii.2 (20,4) [Believe not, that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a compleat bosom] Think not that a breast compleatly armed can be pierced by the dart of love that comes fluttering without force.
I.iii.12 (21,5) [(A man of stricture and firm abstinence)] [W: strict ure] Stricture may easily be used for strictness; ure is indeed an old word, but, I think, always applied to things, never to persons.
I.iii.43 (22,9) [To do it slander] The text stood,
So do in slander. —
Sir Thomas Hammer has very well corrected it thus,
To do it slander. —
Yet perhaps less alteration might have produced the true reading,
And yet my nature never, in the fight,
So doing slandered. —
And yet my nature never suffer slander by doing any open acts of severity. (see 1765, I,279,3)
I.iii.51 (23,2) [Stands at a guard] Stands on terms of defiance.
I.iv.30 (24,3) [make me not your story] Do not, by deceiving me, make me a subject for a tale.
I.iv.41 (26,5)
[as blossoming time
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foyson, so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry]
As the sentence now stands, it is apparently ungrammatical. I read,
At blossoming time, &c.
That is, As they that feed grow full, so her womb now at blossoming time, at that time through which the feed time proceeds to the harvest, her womb shows what has been doing. Lucio ludicrously calls pregnancy blossoming time, the time when fruit is promised, though not yet ripe.
I.iv.51 (26,6) [Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, In hand, and hope of action] To bear in hand is a common phrase for to keep in expectation and dependance, but we should read,
— with hope of action.
I.iv.56 (26,7) [with full line] With full extent, with the whole length.
I.iv.62 (27,8) [give fear to use] To intimidate use, that is, practices long countenanced by custom.
I.iv.69 (27,9) [Unless you have the grace] That is, the acceptableness, the power of gaining favour. So when she makes her suit, the provost says,
Heaven give thee moving graces. (1765, I,282,1)
I.iv.70 (27,1) [pith Of business] The inmost part, the main of my message.
I.iv.86 (28,4) [the mother] The abbess, or prioress.
II.i.8 (29,7) [Let but your honour know] To know is here to examine, to take cognisance. So in Midsummer-Night’s Dream,
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;
Know of your truth, examine well your blood.
II.i.23 (29,8)
[’Tis very pregnant,
The jewel that we find, we stoop and take it,
B
ecause we see it; but what we do not see,
We tread upon, and never think of it]
’Tis plain that we must act with bad as with good; we punish the faults, as we take the advantages, that lie in our way, and what we do not see we cannot note.
II.i.28 (30,8) [For I have had such faults] That is, because, by reason that I have had faults.
II.i.57 (31,9) [This comes off well] This is nimbly spoken; this is volubly uttered.
II.i.63 (32,1) [a tapster, sir; parcel-bawd] This we should now express by saying, he is half-tapster, half-bawd. (1773)
II.i.66 (32,2) [she professes a hot-house] A hot-house is an English name for a bagnio.
Where lately harbour’d many a famous whore,
A purging-bill now fix’d upon the door,
Tells you it it a hot-house, so it may.
And still be a whore-house. Ben. Jonson.
II.i.85 (32,3) [Ay, sir, by mistress Over-done’s means] Here seems to have been some mention made of Froth, who was to be accused, and some words therefore may have been lost, unless the irregularity of the narrative may be better imputed to the ignorance of the constable.
II.i.180 (35,4) [Justice or Iniquity?] These were, I suppose, two personages well known to the audience by their frequent appearance in the old moralities. The words, therefore, at that time, produced a combination of ideas, which they have now lost.
II.i.183 (35,5) [Hannibal] Mistaken by the constable for Cannibal.
II.i.215 (36,6) [they will draw you] Draw has here a cluster of senses. As it refers to the tapster, it signifies to drain, to empty; as it is related to hang, it means to be conveyed to execution on a hurdle. In Froth’s answer, it is the same as to bring along by some motive or power.
II.i.254 (37,7) [I’ll rent the fairest house in it, after three pence a bay] A bay of building is, in many parts of England, a common term, of which the best conception that I could ever attain, is, that it is the space between the main beams of the roof; so that a barn crossed twice with beams is a barn of three bays.
Complete Works of Samuel Johnson Page 579
