Chapter VII: Part 7

The true state of this speech cannot from all these notes be discovered. As it now stands it is collected from two editions: the lines which I have distinguished by Italics are found in the folio, not in the quarto; the following lines inclosed in crotchets are in the quarto, not in the folio. So that if the speech be read with omissions of the Italics, it will stand according to the first edition; and if the Italics are read, and the lines that follow them omitted, it will then stand according to the second. The speech is now tedious, because it is formed by a coalition of both. The second edition is generally best, and was probably nearest to Shakespeare's last copy, but in this passage the first is preferable; for in the folio, the messenger is sent, he knows not why, he knows not whither. I suppose Shakespeare thought his plot opened rather too early, and made the alteration to veil the event from the audience; but trusting too much to himself, and full of a single purpose, he did not accommodate his new lines to the rest of the scene.--The learned critic's [Warburton] emendations are now to be examined. _Scattered_ he has changed to _scathed_; for _scattered_, he says, gives _the idea of an anarchy, which was not the case_. It may be replied that _scathed_ gives the idea of ruin, waste, and desolation, _which was not the case_. It is unworthy a lover of truth, in questions of great or little moment, to exaggerate or extenuate for mere convenience, or for vanity yet less than convenience. _Scattered_ naturally means _divided, unsettled, disunited_.--Next is offered with great pomp a change of _sea_ to _seize_; but in the first edition the word is _fee_, for _hire_, in the sense of having any one in _fee_, that is, at _devotion for money_. _Fee_ is in the second quarto changed to _see_, from which one made _sea_ and another _seize_.

III.ii.4 (398,1) thought-executing] Doing execution with rapidity equal to thought.

III.ii.19 (399,4) Here I stand, your slave] [W: brave] The meaning is plain enough, he was not their _slave_ by right or compact, but by necessity and compulsion. Why should a passage be darkened for the sake of changing it? Besides, of _brave_ in that sense I remember no example.

III.ii.24 (399,5) 'tis foul] Shameful; dishonourable.

III.ii.30 (399,6) So beggars marry many] i.e. A beggar marries a wife and lice.

III.ii.46 (400,1) Man's nature cannot carry/The affliction, nor the fear] So the folio: the later editions read, with the quarto, _force_ for _fear_, less elegantly.

III.ii.56 (401,3) That under covert and convenient seeming] _Convenient_ needs not be understood in any other than its usual and proper sense; _accommodate_ to the present purpose; _suitable_ to a design. _Convenient seeming_ is _appearance_ such as may promote his purpose to destroy.

III.ii.53 (401,4) concealing continents] _Continent_ stands for that which _contains_ or _incloses_.

III.ii.72 (401,(5) Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart,/ That's sorry yet for thee] Some editions read,

--_thing_ in my heart;

from which Hanmer, and Dr. Warburton after him, have made _string_, very unnecessarily; both the copies have _part_.

III.ii.74 (402,7)

_He that has a little tiny wit,--
With heigh ho, the wind and the rain;
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
Though the rain it raineth every day_]

I fancy that the second line of this stanza had once a termination that rhymed with the fourth; but I can only fancy it; for both the copies agree. It was once perhaps written,

With heigh ho, the wind and the rain _in his way_.

The meaning seems likewise to require this insertion. "He that has wit, however small, and finds wind and rain in his way, must content himself by thinking, that somewhere or other _it raineth every day_, and others are therefore suffering like himself." Yet I am afraid that all this is chimerical, for the burthen appears again in the song at the end of _Twelfth Night_, and seems to have been an arbitrary supplement, without any reference to the sense of the song. (see 1765, VI, 84, 6)

III.ii.80 (402,8) I'll speak a prophecy ere I go] [W: or two ere] The sagacity and acuteness of Dr. Warburton are very conspicuous in this note. He has disentangled the confusion of the passage, and I have inserted his emendation in the text. _Or e'er_ is proved by Mr. Upton to be good English, but the controversy was not necessary, for _or_ is not in the old copies. [Steevens retained "ere"]

III.ii.84 (403,1) No heretics burnt, but wenches' suitors] The disease to which _wenches' suitors_ are particularly exposed, was called in Shakespeare's time the _brenning_ or _burning_.

III.iv.26 (406,1)

In, boy; go first. [_To the Fool._] You houseless poverty--
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep]

These two lines were added in the author's revision, and are only in the folio. They are very judiciously intended to represent that humility, or tenderness, or neglect of forms, which affliction forces on the mind.

III.iv.52 (407,3) led through fire and through flame] Alluding to the _ignis fatuus_, supposed to be lights kindled by mischievous beings to lead travellers into destruction.

III.iv.54 (407,4) laid knives under his pillow] He recounts the temptations by which he was prompted to suicide; the opportunities of destroying himself, which often occurred to him in his melancholy moods.

III.iv.60 (407,5) Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking!] To _take_ is to blast, or strike with malignant influence:

--strike her young limbs,
Ye taking airs, with lameness.

III.iv.77 (408,6) pelican daughters] The young pelican is fabled to suck the mother's blood.

III.iv.95 (408,8) light of ear] [i.e. Credulous. WARBURTON.] Not merely _credulous_, but _credulous of evil_, ready to receive malicious reports. (1773)

III.iv.103 (409,1) says suum, mun, ha no nonny, dolphin my boy, boy, Sessy: let him trot by] Of this passage I can make nothing. I believe it corrupt: for wildness, not nonsense, is the effect of a disordered imagination. The quarto reads, _hay no on ny, dolphins, my boy, cease, let him trot by_. Of interpreting this there is not much hope or much need. But any thing may be tried. The madman, now counterfeiting a proud fit, supposes himself met on the road by some one that disputes the way, and cries _Hey!--No--but altering his mind, condescends to let him pass, and calls to his boy _Dolphin_ (Rodolph) not to contend with him. _On--Dolphin, my boy, cease. Let him trot by_.

III.iv.122 (410,3) web and the pin] Diseases of the eye.

III.iv.125 (411,4)

Saint Withold footed thrice the void;
He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;
Bid her alight, and her troth plight,
And aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee!]

In the old quarto the corruption is such as may deserve to be noted. "Swithold footed thrice the old another night moore and her nine fold bid her, O light, and her troth plight, and arint thee, with arint thee."

III.iv.144 (412,6) _small deer_] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads _geer_, and is followed by Dr. Warburton. But _deer_ in old language is a general word for wild animals.

III.iv.187 (414,8) _Child Rowland_] This word is in some of our ballads. There is a song of _Child Walter, and a Lady_.

III.v.21 (415,2) If I find him comforting the king] He uses the word in the juridical sense for _supporting, helping_, according to its derivation; _salvia_ comfortat _ne vos_.--_Schol. Sal._ (rev. 1778, IX, 477, 3)

III.vi.20 (416,2) a horse's health] [W: heels] Shakespeare is here speaking not of things maliciously treacherous, but of things uncertain and not durable, A horse is above all other animals subject to diseases.

III.vi.26 (416,3) Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam?] It may be observed that Edgar, being supposed to be found by chance, and therefore to have no knowledge of the rest, connects not his ideas with those of Lear, but pursues his own train of delirious or fantastic thought. To these words, _At trial, madam?_ I think therefore that the name of Lear should be put. The process of the dialogue will support this conjecture. (1773)

III.vi.27 (417,4) _Come oe'er the broom, Bessy, to me_] As there is no relation between _broom_ and a _boat_, we may better read,

Come o'er the _brook_, Bessy, to me.

III.vi.43 (417,6)

_Sleepest, or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,
Thy sheep shall take no harm.]

This seems to be a stanza of some pastoral song. A shepherd is desired to pipe, and the request is enforced by a promise, that though his sheep be in the corn, i.e. committing a trespass by his negligence, implied in the question, _Sleepest thou or wakest?_ Yet a single tune upon his pipe shall secure them from the pound. (1773)

III.vi.77 (419,8) Sessy, come] Here is _sessey_ again, which I take to be the French word _cessez_ pronounced _cessey_, which was, I suppose, like some others in common use among us. It is an interjection enforcing cessation of any action, like, _be quiet, have done_. It seems to have been gradually corrupted into, _so, so_.

III.vi.78 (419,9) thy horn is dry] Men that begged under pretence of lunacy used formerly to carry a horn, and blow it through the streets.

III.vi.103-121 (420,2) [_Kent._ Opprest nature sleeps] The lines inserted from the quarto are in crotchets. The omission of them in the folio is certainly faulty: yet I believe the folio is printed from Shakespeare'a last revision, carelessly and hastily performed, with more thought of shortening the scenes, than of continuing the action.

III.vi.111 (421,4) free things] States clear from distress.

III.vi. 117 (421,5)

Mark the high noises! and thyself bewray,
When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
In thy just proof, repeals, and reconciles thee]

Attend to the great events that are approaching, and make thyself known. Then that _false opinion_ now prevailing against thee shall, in consequence of _just proof_ of thy integrity, revoke its erroneous sentence, and recall thee to honour and reconciliation.

III.vii.13 (421,6) ray lord of Glo'ster] Meaning Edmund, newly invested with his father's titles. The steward, speaking immediately after, mentions the old duke by the same title.

III.vii.24 (422,3)

Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath]

_To do a courtesy_ is to gratify, to comply with. _To pass_, is to pass a judicial sentence. (1773)

III.vii.29 (422,4) corky arms] Dry, wither'd, husky arms.

III.vii.54 (424,9) I am ty'd to the stake, and I must stand the course] The running of the dogs upon me.

III.vii.65 (425,2) All cruels else subscrib'd] Yielded, submitted to the necessity of the occasion.

III.vii.99-107 (426,3) I'll never care what wickedness I do] [This short dialogue I have inserted from the old quarto, because I think it full of nature. Servants could hardly see such a barbarity committed on their master, without pity; and the vengeance that they presume canst overtake the actors of it is a sentiment and doctrine well worthy of the stage. THEOBALD.] It is not necessary to suppose them the servants of Glo'ster; for Cornwall was opposed to extremity by his own servant.

IV.i.1 (427,1) Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd] The meaning is, _'Tis better_ to be _thus contemned, and_ known _to yourself_ to be contemned. Or perhaps there is an error, which may be rectified thus:

Yet better thus unknown to be contemn'd.

When a man divests himself of his real character he feels no pain from contempt, because he supposes it incurred only by a voluntary disguise which he can throw off at pleasure. I do not think any correction necessary.

IV.i.20 (429,3) Our mean secures us] [i.e. Moderate, mediocre condition. WARBURTON.] Banner writes, by an easy change, _meanness_ secures us. The two original editions have,

Our _meanes_ secures us.--

I do not remember that _mean_ is ever used aa a substantive for low fortune, which is the sense here required, nor for mediocrity, except in the phrase, the _golden mean_. I suspect the passage of corruption, and would either read,

Our means _seduce_ us:--

Our powers of body or fortune draw us into evils. Or,

Our _maims_ secure us.--

That hurt or deprivation which makes us defenceless, proves our safeguard. This is very proper in Glo'ster, newly maimed by the evulsion of his eyes.

IV.i.59-64 (431,8) [Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as _Obidicut_; _Hobbididance_, prince of dumbness; _Mahu_, of stealing; _Modo_, of murder; and _Flibbertigibbet_, of mopping and mowing; who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So bless thee, master!]] The passage in crotchets is omitted in the folio, because I suppose as the story was forgotten, the jest was lost.

IV.i.68 (432,1) Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man] Lear has before uttered the same sentiment, which indeed cannot be too strongly impressed, tho' it may be too often repeated.

IV.i.69 (432,2) That slaves your ordinance] [W: braves] The emendation is plausible, yet I doubt whether it be right. The language of Shakespeare is very licentious, and his words have often meanings remote from the proper and original use. To _slave_ or _beslave_ another is to _treat_ him _with terms of indignity_; in a kindred sense, to _slave the ordinance_, may be, to _slight_ or _ridicule_ it.

IV.ii.1 (433,1) our mild husband] It must be remembered that Albany, the husband of Gonerill, disliked, in the end of the first act, the scheme of oppression and ingratitude.

IV.ii.29 (434,5) I have been worth the whistle] This expression is a reproach to Albany for having neglected her; _though you disregard me thus_, I have been worth the whistle, _I have found one that thinks me worth calling_. (1773)

IV.ii.35 (435,9) From her maternal sap] [W: material] I suppose no reader doubts but the word should be _maternal_. Dr. Warburton has taken great pains without much success, and indeed without much exactness of attention, to prove that _material_ has a more proper sense than _maternal_, and yet seemed glad at last to infer from an apparent error of another press that _material_ and _maternal_ meant the same.

IV.ii.45 (436,2) A man, a prince by him so benefited?] [After this line I suspect a line or two to be wanting, which upbraids her for her sister's cruelty to Glo'ster. WARBURTON.] Here is a pompous note to support a conjecture apparently erroneous, and confuted by the next scene, in which the account is given for the first time to Albany of Glo'ster's sufferings.

IV.ii.50 (436,3) Like monsters of the deep] Fishes are the only animals that are known to prey upon their own species.

IV.ii.62 (437,5) Thou changed, and self-cover'd thing] Of these lines there is but one copy, and the editors are forced open conjecture. They have published this line thus;

Thou chang'd, and _self-converted_ thing;

but I cannot but think that by _self-cover'd_ the author meant, thou that hast _disguised_ nature by wickedness; thou that hast _hid_ the woman under the fiend.

IV.ii.83 (438,6) One way, I like this well] Gonerill is well pleased that Cornwall is destroyed, who was preparing war against her and her husband, but is afraid of losing Edmund to the widow.

IV.iii (439,1) _The French camp, near Dover. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman_] This scene seems to have been left out only to shorten the play, and is necessary to continue the action. It is extant only in the quarto, being omitted in the first folio. I have therefore put it between crotchets.

IV.iii (439,2) _a Gentleman_] The gentleman whom he sent in the foregoing act with letters to Cordelia.

IV.iii.26 (440,4) Made she no verbal question?] I do not see the impropriety of _verbal question_; such pleonasms are common. So we say, _my ears have heard, my eyes have beheld_. Besides, where is the word _quest_ [Warburton's emendation] to be found?

IV.iii.33 (440,6) And clamour-moisten'd] _Clamour moisten'd her_; that is, _her out-cries were accompanied with tears_.

IV.iii.36 (441,7) one self-mate and mate] The same husband and the same wife.

IV.iii.51 (441,9) 'Tis so they are a-foot] Dr. Warburton thinks it necessary to read, _'tis said_; but the sense is plain, _So it is_ that _they are on foot_.

IV.iv.4 (442,1) With bur-docks, hemlock] I do not remember any such plant as a _hardock_, but one of the most common weeds is a _burdock_, which I believe should be read here; and so Hanmer reads.

IV.iv.20 (443,2) the means to lead it] The reason which should guide it.

IV.iv.26 (443,3) My mourning and important tears hath pitied] In other places of this author for _importunate_.

IV.iv.27 (443,4) No blown embition] No inflated, no swelling pride. Beza on the Spanish Armada:

"Quem bene te ambitio mersit vanissima, ventus,
Et tumidos tumidae voa superastis aquae."

IV.v.4 (444,1) _Reg._ Lord Edmund spake not with your lady at home?] The folio reads, _your lord_; but lady is the first and better reading.

IV.v.22 (444,3) Let me unseal the letter./_Stew._ Madam, I had rather] I know not well why Shakespeare gives the steward, who is a mere factor of wickedness, so much fidelity. He now refuses the letter; and afterwards, when he is dying, thinks only how it may be safely delivered.

IV.v.29 (445,5) I do advise you, take this note] _Note_ means in this place not a _letter_ but a _remark_. Therefore _observe_ what I am saying.

IV.v.32 (446,6) You may gather more] You may infer more than I have directly told you.

IV.vi (446,1) _The country near Dover. Enter Glo'ster, and Edgar as a peasant_] This scene, and the stratagem by which Glo'ster is cured of his desperation, are wholly borrowed from Sidney's _Arcadia_.

IV.vi.7 (447,2) thy voice is alter'd] Edgar alters his voice in order to pass afterwards for a malignant spirit.

IV.vi.11 (447,5) How fearful/And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!] This description has been much admired since the time of Addison, who has remarked, with a poor attempt at pleasantry, that "he who can read it without being giddy, has a very good head, or a very bad one." The description is certainly not mean, but I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence of poetry. He that looks from a precipice finds himself assailed by one great and dreadful image of irresistible destruction. But this overwhelming idea is dissipated and enfeebled from the instant that the mind can restore itself to the observation of particulars, and diffuse its attention to distinct objects. The enumeration of the choughs and crows, the samphire-man, and the fishers, counteracts the great effect of the prospect, as it peoples the desert of intermediate vacuity, and stops the mind in the rapidity of its descent through emptiness and horror.

IV.vi.19 (447,4) her cock] Her cock-boat.

IV.vi.43 (448,6) when life itself/Yields to the theft] When life is willing to be destroyed.

IV.vi.47 (449,7) Thus might he pass, indeed] Thus he might _die_ in reality. We still use the word _passing_ bell.

IV.vi.53 (449,9) Ten masts at each make not the altitude] [Pope: attacht] Mr. Pope's conjecture may stand if the word which he uses were known in our author's time, but I think it is of later introduction. He may say,

Ten masts _on end_--

IV.vi.57 (449,1) chalky bourn] _Bourn_ seems here to signify a _hill_. Its common signification is a _brook_. Milton in _Comus_ uses _bosky bourn_ in the same sense perhaps with Shakespeare. But in both authors it may mean only a _boundary_.

IV.vi.73 (450,2) the clearest gods] The purest; the most free from evil.

IV.vi.80 (450,3) Bear free and patient thoughts] To be melancholy is to have the mind _chained down_ to one painful idea; there is therefore great propriety in exhorting Glo'ster to _free thoughts_, to an emancipation of his soul from grief and despair.

IV.vi.81 (450,4) The safer sense will ne'er accommodate/His master thus] [W: sober sense] I read rather,

The _saner_ sense will ne'er accoomodate
His master thus.

"Here is Lear, but he must be mad: his sound or _sane_ senses would never suffer him to be thus disguised."

IV.vi.87 (451,5) That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper] This _crow-keeper_ was so common in the author's time, that it is one of the few peculiarities mentioned by Ortelius in his account of our island.

IV.vi.93 (451,8) Give the word] Lear supposes himself in a garrison, and before he lets Edgar pass, requires the watch-word.

IV.vi.97 (452,7) Ha! Gonerill!--with a white beard!] So reads the folio, properly; the quarto, whom the later editors have followed, has, _Ha! Gonerill, ha! Regan! they flattered me_, &c. which is not so forcible.

IV.vi.98 (452,8) They flattered me like a dog] They played the spaniel to me.

IV.vi.121 (453,2) Whose face between her forks] I believe that the _forks_ were two prominences of the ruff rising on each side of the face.

IV.vi.124 (453,4) nor the soyled horse] _Soiled_ horse is probably the same as _pampered_ horse, _un cheval soule_.

IV.vi.169 (454.5) Robes and furr'd gowns hide all] From _hide all_ to _accuser's lips_, the whole passage is wanting in the first edition, being added, I suppose, at his revisal.

IV.vi.187 (455,8) This a good block!] I do not see how this _block_ corresponds either with his foregoing or following train of thoughts. Madmen think not wholly at random. I would read thus, _a good flock_. _Flocks_ are wool moulded together. The sentence then follows properly:

It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
A troop of horse with felt;--

i.e. with _flocks_ kneaded to a mass, a practice I believe sometimes used in former ages, for it is mentioned in _Ariosto_:

"--Fece nel cader strepito quanto
Avesse avuto sotto i piedi il _feltro_."

It is very common for madmen to catch an accidental hint, and strain it to the purpose predominant in their minds. Lear picks up a _flock_, and immediately thinks to surprize his enemies by a troop of horse shod with _flocks_ or _felt_. Yet _block_ may stand, if we suppose that the sight of a block put him in mind of mounting his horse.

IV.vi.199 (457,1) Why, this would make a man, a man of salt] Would make a man melt away like salt in wet weather.

IV.vi.206 (457,2) Then there's life in't] The case is not yet desperate.

IV.vi.217 (457,3) the main descry/Stands on the hourly thought] The _main_ body is _expected_ to be _descry'd_ every hour. The expression is harsh.

IV.vi.246 (459,7) che vor'ye] _I warn you_. Edgar counterfeits the western dialect.

IV.vi.281 (460,3) Thee I'll rake up] I'll _cover_ thee. In Staffordshire, to _rake_ the fire, is to cover it with fuel for the night.

IV.vi.234 (460,4) the death-practis'd duke] The duke of Albany, whose death is machinated by _practice_ or treason.

IV.vii.3 (461,1) every measure fail me] All good which I shall allot thee, or _measure out_ to thee, will be scanty.

IV.vii.9 (461,4) shortens my made intent] [W: laid] An intent _made_, is an intent _formed_. So we say in common language, to _make a design_, and to _make a resolution_.

IV.vii.41 (464,2) 'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits, at once,/Had not concluded all] [W: concluded.--Ah!] The plain construction is this: _It is wonder that the wits and life had not all ended_.

IV.vii.85-97 (466,9)

[_Gent_. Holds it true, Sir,
That the duke of Cornwall was so slain?]

What is printed in crotchets is not in the folio. It is at least proper, if not necessary; and was omitted by the author, I suppose, for no other reason than to shorten the representation.

V.i.4 (467,2) his constant pleasure] His settled resolution.

V.i.54 (470,7) We will greet the time] We will be ready to meet the occasion.

V.i.61 (470,8) carry out my side] Bring my purpose to a successful issue, to completion. _Side_ seems here to have the sense of the French word _partie_, in _prendre partie, to take his resolution_.

V.i.68 (471,9) for my state/Stands on me to defend, not to debate] I do not think that _for_ stands in this place as a word of inference or causality. The meaning is rather: _Such is my determination concerning Lear_; _as_ for my state _it requires now, not_ deliberation, _but_ defence _and support_.

V.iii.16 (472,1) And take upon us the mystery of things,/As if we were God's spies] As if we were angels commissioned to survey and report the lives of men, and were consequently endowed with the power of prying into the original motives of action and the mysteries of conduct.

V.iii.18 (472,2) packs and sects] Packs is used for _combinations_ or _collection_, as is a _pack of cards_. For _sects_ I think _sets_ might be more commodiously read. So we say, _affairs are now managed by a new_ set. _Sect_, however, may well stand.

V.iii.24 (473,6) flesh and fell] Flesh and skin.

V.iii.54 (475,1)

[At this time
We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd
By those that feel their sharpness:--
The question of Cordelia, and her father,
Requires a fitter place.]]

This passage, well worthy of restoration, is omitted in the folio.

V.iii.65 (475,4) The which immediacy] [_Immediacy_, for representation. WARBURTON.] _Immediacy_ is rather _supremacy_ in opposition to _subordination_, which has _quiddam medium_ between itself and power.

V.iii.79 (476,7) The lett alone lies not in your good will] Whether he shall not or shall depends not on your choice.

V.iii.89 (476,8) An interlude!] This short exclamation of Gonerill is added in the folio edition, I suppose, only to break the speech of Albany, that the exhibition on the stage might be more distinct and intelligible.

V.iii.129 (478,1) Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,/My oath, and my profession] The _privilege_ of this _oath_ means the privilege gained by taking the oath administered in the regular initiation of a knight professed.

V.iii.151 (479,3)

_Alb._ Save him, save him!
_Gon._ This is mere practice, Glo'ster]

He desired that Edmund's life might be spared at present, only to obtain his confession, and to convict him openly by his own letter.

V.iii.166 (480,6) Let us exchange charity] Our author by negligence gives his heathens the sentiments and practices of Christianity. In _Hamlet_ there is the same solemn act of final reconciliation, but with exact propriety, for the personages are Christians.

V.iii. 204-221 (481,2) [Edg;.--This would have seem'd a period] The lines between crotchets are not in the folio.

V.iii.229 (433,4) Here comes Kent, Sir] The manner in which Edgar here mentions Kent, seems to require the lines which are inserted from the first edition in the foregoing scene.

V.iii.264 (485,7)

_Edg._ Or image of that horror?
_Alb._ Fall, and cease!]

These two exclamations are given to Edgar and Albany in the folio, to animate the dialogue, and employ all the persons on the stage; but they are very obscure.

V.iii.301 (487,4) With boot] With advantage, with increase.

(488) General Observation. The tragedy of Lear is deservedly celebrated among the dramas of Shakespeare. There is perhaps no play which keeps the attention so strongly fixed; which so much agitates our passions and interests our curiosity. The artful involutions of distinct interests, the striking opposition of contrary characters, the sudden changes of fortune, and the quick succession of events, fill the mind with a perpetual tumult of indignation, pity, and hope. There is no scene which does not contribute to the aggravation of the distress or conduct of the action, and scarce a line which does not conduce to the progress of the scene. So powerful is the current of the poet's imagination, that the mind, which once ventures within it, is hurried irresistibly along.

On the seeming improbability of Lear's conduct it may be observed, that he is represented according to histories at that time vulgarly received as true. And, perhaps, if we turn our thoughts upon the barbarity and ignorance of the age to which this story is referred, it will appear not so unlikely as while we estimate Lear's manners by our own. Such preference of one daughter to another, or resignation of dominion on such conditions, would be yet credible, if told of a petty prince of Guinea or Madagascar. Shakespeare, indeed, by the mention of his earls and dukes, has given us the idea of times more civilized, and of life regulated by softer manners; and the truth is, that though he so nicely discriminates, and so minutely describes the characters of men, he commonly neglects and confounds the characters of ages, by mingling customs ancient and modern, English and foreign.

My learned friend Mr. Warton, who has in the _Adventurer_ very minutely criticised this play, remarks, that the instances of cruelty are too savage and shocking, and that the intervention of Edmund destroys the simplicity of the story. These objections may, I think, be answered, by repeating, that the cruelty of the daughters is an historical fact, to which the poet has added little, having only drawn it into a series by dialogue and action. But I am not able to apologize with equal plausibility for the extrusion of Glo'ster's eyes, which seems an act too horrid to be endured in dramatic exhibition, and such as must always compel the mind to relieve its distress by incredulity. Yet let it be remembered that our author well knew what would please the audience for which he wrote.

The injury done by Edmund to the simplicity of the action is abundantly recompensed by the addition of variety, by the art with which he is made to co-operate with the chief design, and the opportunity which he gives the poet of combining perfidy with perfidy, and connecting the wicked son with the wicked daughters, to impress this important moral, that villainy is never at a stop, that crimes lead to crimes, and at last terminate in ruin.

But though this moral be incidentally enforced, Shakespeare has suffered the virtue of Cordelia to perish in a just cause, contrary to the natural ideas of justice, to the hope of the reader, and, what is yet more strange, to the faith of chronicles. Yet this conduct is justified by _The Spectator_, who blames Tate for giving Cordelia success and happiness in his alteration, and declares, that, in his opinion, _the tragedy has lost half its beauty_. Dennis has remarked, whether justly or not, that, to secure the favourable reception of _Cato, the town was poisoned with much false and abominable criticism_, and that endeavours had been used to discredit and decry poetical justice. A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life: but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or, that if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue.

In the present case the public has decided. Cordelia, from the time of Tate, has always retired with victory and felicity. And, if my sensations could add any thing to the general suffrage, I night relate, I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor.

There is another controversy among the critics concerning this play. It is disputed whether the predominant image in Lear's disordered mind be the loss of his kingdom or the cruelty of his daughters. Mr. Murphy, a very judicious critic, has evinced by induction of particular passages, that the cruelty of his daughters is the primary source of his distress, and that the loss of royalty affects him only as a secondary and subordinate evil. He observes with great justness, that Lear would move our compassion but little, did we not rather consider the injured father than the degraded king.

The story of this play, except the episode of Edmund, which is derived, I think, from Sidney, is taken originally from Geoffry of Monmouth, whom Hollinshed generally copied; but perhaps immediately from an old historical ballad. My reason for believing that the play was posterior to the ballad, rather than the ballad to the play, is, that the ballad has nothing of Shakespeare's nocturnal tempest, which is too striking to have been omitted, and that it follows the chronicle; it has the rudiments of the play, but none of its amplifications: it first hinted Lear's madness, but did not array it in circumstances. The writer of the ballad added something to the history, which is a proof that he would have added more, if more had occurred to his mind, and more must have occurred if he had seen Shakespeare. [Johnson appends "A lamentable SONG of the Death of King Leir and his Three Daughters"]

Vol. I

ROMEO AND JULIET

I.i.82 (9,7) Give me my long sword] The _long sword_ was the sword used in war, which was sometimes wielded with both hands.

I.i.158 (11,2)

As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the same]

I cannot but suspect that some lines are lost, which connected this simile more closely with the foregoing speech; these lines, if such there were, lamented the danger that Romeo will die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities were known to the world.

I.i.176 (12,3)

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see path-ways to his will.]

Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read, to his _ill_. The present reading has some obscurity; the meaning may be, that _love_ finds out means to pursue his _desire_. That the _blind_ should _find paths to ill_ is no great wonder.

I.i.183 (13,4) O brawling love! O loving hate!] Of these lines neither the sense nor occasion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an eneny, and to love one and hate another is no such uncommon state, as can deserve all this toil of antithesis.

I.i.192 (14,5) Why, such is love's transgression] Such is the consequence of unskilful and mistaken kindness. (see 1765, VIII, 12, 2)

1.1.198 (14,6) Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes] The author may mean _being purged of smoke_, but it is perhaps a meaning never given to the word in any other place. I would rather read, _Being_ urged, _a fire sparkling_. Being excited and inforced. To _urge_ the fire is the technical term.

I.i.199 (14,7) Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears] As this line stands single, it is likely that the foregoing or following line that rhym'd to it, is lost.

I.i.206 (14,8) Tell me in sadness] That is, tell me _gravely_, tell me in _seriousness_.

I.i.217 (15,1) in strong proof] In chastity _of proof_, as we say in armour _of proof_.

I.i.222 (15,2)

O, she is rich in beauty; only poor
That when she dies, with beauty dies her store]

Mr. Theobald reads, "_With_ her dies beauties _store_;" and is followed by the two succeeding editors. I have replaced the old reading, because I think it at least as plausible as the correction. _She is rich_, says he, _in beauty_, and _only poor_ in being subject to the lot of humanity, that _her store_, or riches, _can be destroyed by death_, who shall, by the same blow, put an end to beauty.

I.ii.15 (17,2) She is the hopeful lady of my earth] _The lady of his earth_ is an expression not very intelligible, unless he means that she is heir to his estate, and I suppose no man ever called his lands his earth. I will venture to propose a bold change:

She is the hope _and stay_ of my _full years_.

I.ii.25 (18,3) Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light] [W: dark even] But why nonsense [Warburton's comment]? Is any thing mere commonly said, than that beauties eclipse the sun? Has not Pope the thought and the word?

"Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray,
"And spe'd those eyes that must _eclipse the day_."

Both the old and the new reading are philosophical nonsense, but they are both, and both equally poetical sense.

I.ii.26 (18,4) Such comfort as do lusty young men feel] To say, and to say in pompous words, that a _young man shall feel_ as much in an assembly of beauties, _as young men feel in the month of April_, is surely to waste sound upon a very poor sentiment. I read,

Such comfort as do lusty _yeomen_ feel.

You shall feel from the sight and conversation of these ladies, such hopes of happiness and such pleasure, as the farmer receives from the spring, when the plenty of the year begins, and the prospect of the harvest fills him with delight.

I.ii.32 (18,5)

Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one.
May stand in number, the' in reckoning none]

The first of these lines I do not understand. The old folio gives no help; the passage is there, _Which_ one _more view_. I can offer nothing better than this:

_Within your view_ of many, mine being one,
May stand in number, &c.

I.iii.13 (22,1) to my teen] To my sorrow.

I.iii.66 (24,4) It is an honour] The modern editors all read, _it is an honour_. I have restored the genuine word ["hour"], which is more seemly from a girl to her mother. _Your, fire_, and such words as are vulgarly uttered in two syllables, are used as dissyllables by Shakespeare. [The first quarto reads _honour_; the folio _hour_. I have chosen the reading of the quarto. STEEVENS.] (rev. 1778, X, 28, 2)

I.iii.92 (25,9) That in gold clasps locks in the golden story] The _golden story_ is perhaps the _golden legend_, a book in the darker ages of popery much read, and doubtless often exquisitely embellished, but of which Canus, one of the popish doctors, proclaims the author to have been _homo ferrei oris, plumbei cordis_.

I.iv.6 (27,2) like a crow-keeper] The word _crow-keeper_ is explained in Lear.

I.iv.37 (28,8) for I am proverb'd with a grand-sire phrase] The grandsire phrase is--_The black ox has trod upon my foot_.

I.iv.42 (30,1) Or (save your reverence) love] The word _or_ obscures the sentence; we ahould read _O_! for _or love_. Mercutio having called the affection vith which Romeo was entangled by so disrespectful a word as _mire_, cries out,

O! save your reverence, love.

I.iv.84 (34,7) Spanish blades] A sword is called a toledo, from the excellence of the Toletan steel. So Gratius,

"--Ensis Toletanus
"Unda Tagi non est alie celebranda metallo,
Utilis in cives est ibi lamna sues."

I.iv.113 (35,9) Direct my sail:] [I have restored this reading from the elder quarto, as being more congruous to the metaphor in the preceding line. _Suit_ is the reading of the folio. STEEVENS.]

_Direct my suit_! Guide the _sequel_ of the adventure.

I.v.27 (37,4)

You are welcome, gentlemen. Come musicians, play.
A ball! a ball! Give room. And foot it, girls]

These two lines, omitted by the modern editors, I have replaced from the folio.

I.v.32 (37, 6) good cousin Capulet] This _cousin_ Capulet is _unkle_ in the paper of invitation; but as Capulet is described as old, _cousin_ is probably the right word in both places. I know not how Capulet and his lady might agree, their ages were very disproportionate; he has been past masking for thirty years, and her age, as she tells Juliet, is but eight-and-twenty.

II.Prologue (42,3) _Enter CHORUS_] The use of this chorus is not easily discovered; it conduces nothing to the progress of the play, but relates what is already known, or what the next scenes will shew; and relates it without adding the improvement of any moral sentiment.

II.ii.1 (45,1) He jests at scars] That is, Mercutio jests, whom he overheard.

II.ii.7 (45,2) Be not her maid] Be not a votary to the moon, to Diana.

II.ii.10 (45,3)

It is my lady; O! it is my love;
O, that she knew we were!]

This line and half I have replaced.

II.ii.39 (47,7) Thou art thyself, though not a Montague] I think the true reading is,

Thou art thyself, _then_ not a Montague.

Thou art a being of peculiar excellence, and hast none of the malignity of the family, from which thou hast thy name.--Hanmer reads,

Thour't not _thyself_ so, _though_ a Montague.

II.iii.15 (53,6) the powerful grace, that lies/In plants] Efficacious virtue.

II.iii.27 (53,7) Two such opposed foes encamp them still] [W: opposed kin] _Foes_ may be the right reading, or _kings_, but I think _kin_ can hardly be admitted. Two _kings_ are two opposite _powers_, two contending _potentates_, in both the natural and moral world. The word _encamp_ is proper to _commanders_. (see 1765, VIII, 46, 2)

II.iv.20 (57,3) courageous captain of compliments] A complete master of all the laws of ceremony, the principal man in the doctrine of punctilio.

"A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
"Have chose as umpire;"

says our author of Don _Armado_, the Spaniard, in _Love's Labour Lost_.

II.iv.27 (57,6) the hay!] All the terms of the modern fencing-school were originally Italian; the rapier, or small thrusting sword, being first used in Italy. The _hay_ is the word _hai_, you _have_ it, used when a thrust reaches the antagonist, from which our fencers, on the same occasion, without knowing, I suppose, any reason for it, cry out, _ha_!

II.iv.35 (58,9) these pardonnez-moy's] _Pardonnez-moi_ became the language of doubt or hesitation among men of the sword, when the point of honour was grown so delicate, that no other mode of contradiction would be endured.

II.iv.64 (59,3) then is my pump wall flower'd] Here is a vein of wit too thin to be easily found. The fundamental idea is, that Romeo wore _pinked_ pumps, that is, pumps punched with holes in figures.

II.iv.87 (60,7) a wit of cheverel] _Cheverel_ is soft-leather for gloves.

II.iv.138 (62,8) No hare, Sir] Mercutio having roared out, _So ho_! the cry of the sportsmen when they start a hare; Romeo asks _what he has found_. And Mercutio answers, _No hare_, &c. The rest is a series of quibbles unworthy of explanation, which he who does not understand, needs not lament his ignorance.

II.iv.162 (63,1) none of his skains-mates] The word _skains-mate_, I do not understand, but suppose that _skains_ was some low play, and _skains-mate_, a companion at such play.

II.iv.200 (64,2) like a tackled stair] Like stairs of rope in the tackle of a ship.

II.iv.222 (65,4) Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the nonce; I know it begins with another letter] This passage is thus in the old folio. _A mocker, that's the dog's name. R is for the_ no, _I know it begins with some other letter._ In this copy the error is but small. I read, _Ah, mocker. that's the dog's name. R is for the_ nonce, _I know it begins with another letter._ For the _nonce_, is for some _design, for a sly trick_.

II.vi.15 (70,2) Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow] He that travels too fast is as long before he comes to the end of his journey, as he that travels slow. Precipitation produces mishap.

III.i.2 (71,1) The day is hot] It is observed, that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer.

III.i.124 (75,6) This day's black fate on more days does depend] This day's unhappy destiny _hangs over_ the days yet to come. There will yet be more mischief.

III.i.141 (78,7) Oh! I am fortune's fool] I am always running in the way of evil fortune, _like_ the fool in the play. _Thou art death's fool_, in _Measure for Measure_. See Dr. Warburton's note.

III.i.153 (77,8) as thou art true] As thou art _just_ and _upright_.

III.i.159 (77,9) How nice the quarrel] How _slight_, how _unimportant_, how _petty_. So in the last act,

The letter was not _nice_, but full of charge
Of dear import.

III.i.182 (78,2) Affection makes him false] The charge of falshood on Bonvolio, though produced at hazard, is very just. The author, who seems to intend the character of Bonvolio as good, meant perhaps to shew, how the best minds, in a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality.

III.i.193 (78,3) I have an interest in your hate's proceeding: Sir Thomas Hanmer saw that this line gave no sense, and therefore put, by a very easy change,

I have an interest in your _heat's_ proceeding!

which is undoubtedly better than the old reading which Dr. Warburton has followed; but the sense yet seems to be weak, and perhaps a more licentious correction is necessary. I read therefore,

I _had no_ interest in your _heat's preceding_.

This, says the prince, is no quarrel of mine, _I had no interest in your former discord_; I suffer merely by your private animosity.

III.ii.5 (79,3) Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,/That run-away's eyes may wink] [Warburton explained the "run-away" as the "sun"] I am not satisfied with this explanation, yet have nothing better to propose.

III.ii.10 (80,4) Come, civil night] _Civil_ is _grave, decently solemn_.

III.ii.14 (80,5) unmann'd blood] Blood yet unacquainted with man.

III.ii.25 (81,6) the garish sun] Milton had this speech in his thoughts when he wrote _Il Penseroso_.

"--Civil night,
"Thou sober-suited matron."--_Shakespeare_.
"Till civil-suited morn appear."--_Milton_.
"Pay no worship to the gairish sun."--_Shakespeare_.
"Hide me from day's gairish eye."--_Milton_.

III.ii.46 (82,7) the death-darting eye of cockatrice] [The strange lines that follow here in the common books are not in the old edition. POPE.] The strange lines are these:

I am not I, if there be such an I,
Or these eyes shot, that makes thee answer I;
If he be slain, say I; or if not, no;
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

These lines hardly deserve emendatien; yet it may be proper to observe, that their meanness has not placed them below the malice of fortune, the two first of them being evidently transposed; we should read,

--That one vowel _I_ shall poison more,
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice,
Or these eyes shot, that make thee answer, I.
I am not I, &c.

III.ii.114 (85,9) Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts] Hath put Tybalt out of my mind, as if out of being.

III.ii.120 (85,1) Which modern lamentation might have mov'd] This line is left out of the later editions, I suppose because the editors did not remember that Shakespeare uses _modern_ for _common_, or _slight_: I believe it was in his time confounded in colloquial language with _moderate_.

III.iii.112 (89,4)

Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!]

[W: seeming groth] The old reading is probable. _Thou art a beast of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a man_.

III.iii.135 (90,5) And thou dismember'd with thine own defence] And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons.

III.iii.166-168 (91,6) Go hence. Good night] These three lines are omitted in all the modern editions.

III.iii.166 (91,7) here stands all your state] The whole of your fortune depends on this.

III.iv.12 (92,9) Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender/Of my child's love] _Desperate_ means only _bold, advent'rous_, as if he had said in the vulgar phrase, _I will speak a_ bold _word_, and venture _to promise you my daughter_.

III.v.20 (94,1) 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow] The appearance of a cloud opposed to the moon.

III.v.23 (94,2) I have more care to stay, than will to go] Would it be better thus, _I have more will to stay, than care to go_?

III.v.31 (94,3) Some say, the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes] This tradition of the toad and lark I hare heard expressed in a rustick rhyme,

--_to heav'n I'd fly,
But the toad beguil'd me of my eye._

III.v.33 (95,4)

Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with huntaup to the day]

These two lines are omitted in the modern editions, and do not deserve to be replaced, but as they may shew the danger of critical temerity. Dr. Warburton's change of _I would_ to _I wot_ was specious enough, yet it it is evidently erroneous. The sense is this, _The lark, they say, has lost her eyes to the toad, and now_ I would _the toad had her voice too, since she uses it to the disturbance of lovers_.

III.v.86 (97,3)

_Jul._ Ay, Madam, from the reach of these my hands:
'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death.!]

Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed by the loss of a new lover.

III.v.91 (98,4) That shall bestow on hin so sure a draught] [Thus the elder quarto, which I have followed in preference to the quarto 1609, and the folio 1623, which read, less intelligibly,

"Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram." STEEVENS.]

--_unaccustomed dram_.] In vulgar language, Shall give him a _dram_ which he is _not used_ to. Though I have, if I mistake not, observed, that in old books _unaccustomed_ signifies _wonderful, powerful, efficacious_.

III.v.112 (98,6) in happy time] _A la bonne heure_. This phrase was interjected, when the hearer was not quite so well pleased as the speaker.

III.v.227 (103,3) As living here] Sir T. HANMER reads, _as living_ hence; that is, at a dsitance, in banishment; but _here_ may signify, _in this world_.

IV.i.3 (104,1) And I am nothing alow to slack his haste] _His haste shall not be abated by my slowness_. It might be read,

And I an nothing slow to _back_ his haste:

that is, I am diligent to _abet_ and _enforce_ his haste.

IV.i.l8 (104,2)

_Par._ Happily met, my lady and my wife!
_Jul._ That may be, Sir, when I may be a wife]

As these four first lines seem intended to rhyme, perhaps the author wrote thus:

--my lady and my _life_!

IV.i.62 (106,3) this bloody knife/Shall play the umpire] That is, this knife shall decide the struggle between me and my distress.

IV.i.64 (106,4) commission of thy years and art] _Commission_ is for _authority_ or _power_.

IV.i.79 (106,5)

Or chain me to some sleepy mountain's top,
Where rearing bears and savage lions roam;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel house]
[Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with rearing bears,
Or hide me nightly, &c.

It is thus the editions vary. POPE.] my edition has the words which Mr. Pope has omitted; but the old copy seems in this place preferable; only perhaps we might better read,

Where _savage_ bears and _rearing_ lions roam.

IV.i.119 (108,8) If no unconstant toy] If no _fickle freak_, no _light caprice_, no _change of fancy_, hinder the performance.

IV.ii.38 (110,2) We shall be short] That is, we shall be _defective_.

IV.iii.3 (110,3) For I have need of many orisons] Juliet plays most of her pranks under the appearance of religion: perhaps Shakespeare meant to punish her hypocrisy.

IV.iii.46 (112,6) Alas, alas! it is not like that I] This speech is confused, and inconsequential, according to the disorder of Juliet's mind.

IV.iv.4 (113,1) The curfeu bell] I knew not that the morning-bell is called the _curfeu_ in any other place.

IV.iv.107 (119,9) O, play me some merry dump] This is not in the folio, but the answer plainly requires it.

V.i (121,1) ACT V. SCENE I. MANTUA] The acts are here properly enough divided, nor did any better distribution than the editors have already made, occur to me in the perusal of this play; yet it may not be improper to remark, that in the first folio, and I suppose the foregoing editions are in the same state, there is no division of the acts, and therefore some future editor may try, whether any improvement can be made, by reducing them to a length more equal, or interrupting the action at more proper intervals.

V.i.1 (121,2) If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep] The sense is, _If I may only trust the_ honesty _of sleep_, which I know however not to be so nice as not often to practise _flattery_.

V.i.3 (121,3)

My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne;
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with chearful thoughts]

These three lines are very gay and pleasing. But why does Shakespeare give Romeo this involuntary cheerfulness just before the extremity of unhappiness? Perhaps to shew the vanity of trusting to these uncertain and casual exaltations or depressions, which many consider as certain foretokens of good and evil.

V.i.45 (123,6) A beggarly account of empty boxes] Dr. Warburton would read, a _braggartly_ account; but _beggarly_ is probably right: if the _boxes_ were _empty_, the _account_ was more _beggarly_, as it was more pompous.

V.iii.31 (127,1) a ring that I must use/In dear employment] That is, _action of importance_. Gems were supposed to have great powers and virtues.

V.iii.86 (129,4) her beauty makes/This vault a feasting presence full of light] A _presence_ is a _public room_.

V.iii.90 (129,5) O, how may I/Call this a lightning?] I think we should read,

--_O_, now _may I
Call this a lightning_!--

V.iii.178 (135,1)

Raise up the Montagues.--Some others; search:--
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry]

Here seems to be a rhyme intended, which may be easily restored;

"Raise up the Montagues. Some others, go.
"We see the ground whereon these woes do lie,
"But the true ground of all _this_ piteous _woe_
"We cannot without circumstance descry."

V.iii.194 (136,2) What fear is this, which startles in our ears?] [Originally _your ears_] Read,