Chapter CXXVIII: Act IV: SCENE 2. Page 209

ALE. Humanity must perforce _prey on itself_,
Like monsters of the deep.

"Fishes," says Dr. Johnson, "are the _only_ animals that are known to prey upon their own species." But Shakspeare did not mean to insinuate this; for he has elsewhere spoken of "cannibals that each other eat." He only wanted a comparison. Many of the insect tribes prey on their own species, as spiders, scorpions, beetles, earwigs, blattæ, &c.

SCENE 4. Page 233.

LEAR. That fellow handles his bow like a _crow keeper_.

The notes on this passage serve only to _identify the character_ of a crow-keeper; but the _comparison_ still remains to be explained. On this occasion we must consult our sole preceptor in the manly and too much neglected science of archery, the venerable Ascham. In speaking of awkward shooters he says, "Another coureth downe and layeth out his buttockes, as thoughe hee should _shoote at crowes_."

SCENE 4. Page 234.

LEAR. O well-flown bird!

The notes are at variance as to whether Lear allude to archery or falconry. Certainly to the latter. In an old song on hawking, set for four voices by Thomas Ravenscroft, _O well flown_ is a frequent address to the hawk.

SCENE 4. Page 239.

LEAR. Hark, in thine ear: change places: and _handy-dandy_, which
is the justice, which is the thief?

Mr. Malone's explanation of this children's sport is confirmed by the following extract from _A free discourse touching the murmurers of the tymes_, MS. "They hould safe your childrens patrymony, and play with your majestie as men play with little children at _handye dandye, which hand will you have_, when they are disposed to keep any thinge from them." The above _discourse_ is a very bold and libellous address to King James I. on his pacific character, written, anonymously, with great powers of composition.

SCENE 4. Page 240.

LEAR. There thou might'st behold the great image of authority: a dog's
obey'd in office.----
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand:
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind,
For which thou whip'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear:
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all.

This admirable speech has a remarkable coincidence with the following passage from "Parke's _Curtaine-drawer of the world_," 1612, 4to, p. 16, a work of very considerable merit. "The potency and power of magnificence and greatnesse dare looke sinne openly in the face in the very market place, and the eye of authority never takes notice thereof: the poore harlot must be stript and whipt for the crime that the courtly wanton and the citie-sinner ruffle out, and passe over and glory in, and account as nothing. The poore thiefe is hanged many times that hath stolne but the prise of a dinner, when sometimes hee that robbes both church and commonwealth is seene to ride on his footecloth." If this book was written according to its date, and Mr. Malone be right as to that of Lear, a fact which is not meant to be controverted, the merit of originality will rest with Shakspeare.

SCENE 4. Page 241.

EDG. O, matter and _impertinency_ mix'd.

This word was not used in its modern and corrupted sense of _sauciness_ or _intrusion_, but merely to express _something not belonging to the subject_. Thus, an old collection of domestic recipes, &c., entitled, _The treasurie of commodious conceits_, 1594, is said to be "not _impertinent_ for every good huswife to use in her house amongst her own familie." It does not seem to have been used in the sense of _rude_ or _unmannerly_ till the middle of the seventeenth century; nor in that of _saucy_ till a considerable time afterwards.

SCENE 4. Page 241.

LEAR. ... we came crying hither.
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,
We _wawl and cry_:----

Evidently taken from Pliny as translated by Philemon Holland. "Man alone, poor wretch [nature] hath laid all naked upon the bare earth, even on his birth day _to cry and wrawle_ presently from the very first houre that he is borne into this world."--_Proeme_ to book 7.

THE FOOL.

The fool in this play is the genuine domestic buffoon: but notwithstanding his sarcastical flashes of wit, for which we must give the poet credit, and ascribe them in some degree to what is called stage effect, he is a mere _natural_ with a considerable share of cunning. Thus Edgar calls him _an innocent_, and every one will immediately distinguish him from such a character as Touchstone. His dress on the stage should be parti-coloured; his hood crested either with a cock's comb, to which he often alludes, or with the cock's head and neck. His bauble should have a head like his own with a grinning countenance, for the purpose of exciting mirth in those to whom he occasionally presents it.

The kindness which Lear manifests towards his fool, and the latter's extreme familiarity with his master in the midst of the most poignant grief and affliction, may excite surprise in those who are not intimately acquainted with the simple manners of our forefathers. An almost contemporary writer has preserved to us a curious anecdote of William duke of Normandy, afterwards William I. of England, whose life was saved by the attachment and address of his fool. An ancient Flemish chronicle among the royal MSS. in the British Museum, 16, F. iii., commences with the exile of Salvard lord of Roussillon and his family from Burgundy. In passing through a forest they are attacked by a cruel giant, who kills Salvard and several of his people; his wife Emergard and a few others only escaping. This scene the illuminator of the manuscript, which is of the fifteenth century, has chosen to exhibit. He has represented Emergard as driven away in a covered cart or waggon by one of the servants. She is attended by a female, and in the front of the cart is placed her fool, with a countenance expressive of the utmost alarm at the impending danger. Nor would it be difficult to adduce, if necessary, similar instances of the reciprocal affection between these singular personages and those who retained them.

ON THE STORY OF THIS PLAY.

To the account already given of the materials which Shakspeare used, nothing perhaps of any moment can be added; but for the sake of rendering this article more complete, it may be worth while to add that the _unpublished Latin Gesta Romanorum_ contains the history of Lear and his daughters under different names, and with some little variety of circumstance. As it is not tedious, and has never been printed, at least as far as we know at present, it is here subjoined in its English form. The manuscript used on this occasion is No. 7333, in the Harleian collection.

"Theodosius regned, a wys emperour in the cite of Rome and myghti he was of power; the whiche emperour had thre doughters. So hit liked to this emperour to knowe which of his doughters lovid him best. And tho he seid to the eldest doughter, how moche lovist thou me? fforsoth, quod she, more than I do myself, therfore, quod he, thou shalt be hily avaunsed, and maried her to a riche and myghti kyng. Tho he cam to the secund, and seid to her, doughter, how moche lovist thou me? As moche forsoth, she seid, as I do myself. So the emperour maried her to a duc. And tho he seid to the thrid doughter, how moche lovist thou me? fforsoth, quod she, as moche as ye beth worthi, and no more. Tho seid the emperour, doughter, sith thou lovist me no more, thou shalt not be maried so richely as thi susters beth. And tho he maried her to an erle. Aftir this it happid that the emperour held bataile ayend the king of Egypt. And the kyng drove the emperour oute of the empire, in so moche that the emperour had no place to abide ynne. So he wrote lettres ensealed with his ryng to his first doughter that seid that she lovid him more than herself, for to pray her of socouryng in that grete nede, bycause he was put oute of his empire. And when the doughter had red thes lettres, she told hit to the kyng her husbond. Tho, quod the kyng, it is good that we socour him in this nede. I shal, quod he, gadern an host and help him in all that I can or may, and that will not he do withoute grete costage. Yee, quod she, hit were sufficiant if that we wold graunt him V knyghts to be in felashyp wᵗ him while he is oute of his empire. And so hit was ydo indede. And the doughter wrote ayen to the fader, that other help myght he not have but V knyghts of the kyng to be in his felashyp at the cost of the kyng her husbond. And when the emperour herd this, he was hevy in his hert, and seid, alas! alas! all my trust was in her, for she seid she lovid me more than herself, and therfore I avaunced her so hye.

"Then he wrote to the seconde that seid she lovid him as moche as hirself, and when she had herd his lettres, she shewid his erand to hir husbond, and yaf him in counseil that he shuld fynde him mete and drink and clothing honestly, as for the state of such a lorde during tyme of his nede. And when this was graunted, she wrote lettres agein to hir fadir. The emperour was hevy wᵗ this answere, and seid, sith my two doughters have thus yhevid me, sothely I shal preve the third. And so he wrote to the thrid that seid she lovid him as moche as he was worthi, and praied her of socour in his nede, and tolde her the answere of her two sustris. So the thrid doughter when she had considered the myschief of her ffader, she told her husbond in this fourme: my worshipfull lord do socour me now in this grete nede, my fadir is put oute of his empire and his heritage. Then spake he, what were thi will I did therto. That ye gadre a grete oste, quod she, and helpe him to fight ayens his enemys. I shal fulfill thi will, seide the erle, and gaderid a grete oste and yede with the emperoure at his owne costage to the bataile, and had the victorye, and set the emperour ayen in his heritage. And then seid the emperour, blessed be the hour I gate my yongist doughter: I lovid her lesse than eni of the othir, and now in my nede she hath socoured me, and the othir have yfailed me; and therefore aftir my deth she shal have myn empire. And so hit was ydo in dede; for aftir the deth of the emperour, the yongist doughter regned in his sted and ended pesibly."

The same story is to be found in the formerly celebrated English chronicle erroneously supposed to have been written by Caxton, the early part of which was copied from Geoffrey of Monmouth. The circumstance of its having been printed by Caxton more than once, with a continuation to his own time, probably by himself, seems to have occasioned the mistake. See what has been said of it before, p. 261.

FOOTNOTES:

[21] This country has been humorously described by an old French fablier, from whose work an extract may be found in Mons. Legrand's entertaining collection of _Fabliaux_, tom. i. p. 251; and which verifies Mr. Tyrwhitt's conjecture, that the old English poem first published by Hickes, _G. A. Sax_. p. 231, was a translation from the French. See _Cant. tales_, vol. iv. p. 254.

ROMEO AND JULIET.