English Classics, Etc., Classes in English Literature, Reading, Grammar, etc. EDITED BT EMINENT / ,NGLISH AND AMERICAN SCHOLARS. Each Volume contains a S. etch of the Author^s Life, Prefatory and Explanatory Notes, etc., etc. These Volumes are thoroughly adapted for Schools in which English Literature forms a branch of study, or where a carefully-selected por- tion of some English Classic is selected for minute examination, or for supplementary reading matter. The notes are unusually full and exhaustive, occupying in many volumes nearly half the book. Ety- mology is attended to tl roughout, the derivations of all the more difficult words being give i. In short, they supply the student with all the information necessary to a perfect understanding and just appre- ciation of the text, and incidentally communicate much useful philo- logical and general knowledge. No. 1 Byron's Prophecy of Dante. (Cantos I. aad II.) ** 2 Milton's L' Allegro and II Penseroso. " 8 Lord Bacon's Essays, Civil and Moral. (Selected.) " 4 Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. " 5 Moore's Fire-Worshippers. (Lalla Rookh. Selected from Parts I. and II.) " 6 Goldsmith's Deserted Tillage. " 7 Scott's Marmion. (Selections from Canto VI.) " 8 Scott s Lay of the Last Minstrel. (Introduction and Canto I.) " 9 Burns' Cotter's Saturday Night, and Other Poems. " 10 CrabLe's The Village. " 11 Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. (Abridgment of Part I.) " 12 Maeaulwy's Essay on Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. " 13 Macaulay's Armada and other Poems. " 14 Shakespeare's Merchant of Venlee. ^Splectinna from IV.) *« 15 Goldsmit* s Traveller. " 16 Hogg's Q een's Wake. " IT Coleridge . Ancient Mariner. " 18 Addison's . Jlr Koger de Coverley. ** 19 Gray's T ".ieg t in a Country « hurchyard. ^^///mqtqm $. v 26 Scott's Ludj of the Lake. .Canto I.) St -ihakespeare's As tou Like It, etc ^feleettons.l 22 Shakespeare's Kin.T John and King Kichard II. (^lec.ons.) 28 Shakespeare s King Henry IV.., Kir King Henry VI. (Selections.) ***& 24 Shakespeare^s Henry VIII., and Julius Csesar. iSp'.u (continued.) mo 25 « 36 M 27 « 28 « 29 t< 80 « SI « 32 « 83 t< 34 u 85 a 86 it 8? it 88 " 89 *ESAR. KING LEAR. MACBETH. TEMPEST. HAMLET. KING HENRY VIII. KING HENRY IV., Part I. KING RICHARD III. A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. A WINTER'S TALE. Copyright, 1890, by EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & CO. til EDITOR'S NOTE. The text here presented, adapted for use in mixed classes, has been carefully collated with that of six or seven of the latest and best editions. Where there was any disagreement those readings have been adopted which seemed most reasonable and were support _d by the best authority. The notes of English editors have been freely used. Those taken as the basis of our work have been rigor- ously pruned wherever they were thought too learned or too minute, or contained matter that for any other reason seemed unsuited to our purpose. We have generously added to them, also, wherever they seemed to be lacking. B. K. ^''feffl v ***L GENERAL NOTICE. " An attempt has been made in these new editions to interpret Shakespeare by the aid of Shakespeare himself. The Method of Comparison has been constantly employ- ed ; and the language used by him in one place has been compared with the language used in other places in simi- lar circumstances, as well as with older English and with newer English. The text has been as carefully and as thoroughly annotated as the text of any Greek or Latin classic. " The first purpose in this elaborate annotation is, of course the full working out of Shakespeare's meaning. The Editor has in all circumstances taken as much pains with this as if he had been making out the difficult and obscure terms of a will in which he himself was personally interested ; and he submits that this thorough excavation of the meaning of a really profound thinker is one of the very best kinds of training that a boy or girl can receive at school. This is to read the very mind of Shakespeare, and to weave his thoughts into the fibre of one's own mental constitution. And always new rewards come to the care- ful reader— in the shape of new meanings, recognition of S VI thoughts he had before missed, of relations between the characters that had hitherto escaped him. For reading Shakespeare is just like examining Nature ; there are no hollownesses, there is no scamped work, for Shakespeare is as patiently exact and as first-hand as Nature herself. " Besides this thorough working-out of Shakespeare's meaning, advantage has been taken of the opportunity to teach his English — to make each play an introduction to the English of Shakespeare. For this purpose copi- ous collections of similar phrases have been gathered from other plays ; his idioms have been dwelt upon ; his pecu- liar use of words ; his style and his rhythm. Some Teachers may consider that too many instances are given ; but, in teaching, as in everything else, the old French say- ing is true : Asscz tfy a, s*il trop it'y a. The Teacher need not require each pupil to give him all the instances collected. If each gives one or two, it will probably be- enough ; and, among them all, it is certain that one or two will stick in the memory. It is probable that, for those pu- pils who do not study either Greek or Latin, this close ex- amination of every word and phrase in the text of Shake- speare will be the best substitute that can be found for the study of the ancient classics. " It were much to be hoped that Shakespeare should become more and more of a study, and that every boy and girl should have a thorough knowledge of at least one play of Shakespeare before leaving school. Tt would be one of the best lessons in human life, without the chance of a polluting or degrading experience. It would also have the effect of bringing back into the too pale and for- mal English of modern times a large number of pithy and vii vigorous phrases which would help to develop as well as to reflect vigor in the characters of the readers. Shake- speare used the English language with more power than any other writer that ever lived — he made it do more and say more than it had ever done ; he made it speak in a more original way ; and his combinations of words are per- petual provocations and invitations to originality and to newness of insight." — J. M. D. Meiklejohn, M.A., Professor of the Theory, History, and Practice of Educa- tion in the University of St, Andrews, Shakespeare's Grammar. Shakespeare lived at a time when the grammar and vocahulary of the English language were in a state of transition. Various pomts were not yet settled ; and so Shakespeare's grammar is not only somewhat different from our own but is by no means uniform in itself. In the Elizabethan age, "Almost any part of speech can be used as any other part of speech. -An adverb can be used as a verb, ' They askance their eyes \ ' as a noun, ' the backward and abysm of time ;' or as an adjective, 'a seldom pleasure.' Any noun, ad- jective, or neuter [intrans.] verb can be used as an active [trans.] verb. You can ' happy ' your friend, ' malice ' or ' foot ' your en- emy, or ' fall ' an axe on his neck. An adjective can be used as an adverb; and you can speak and act 'easy,' 'free,' 'excel- lent ; ' or as a noun, and you can talk of ' fair ' instead of ' beau- ty,' and ' a pale ' instead of ' a paleness.' Even the pronouns are not exempt from these metamorphoses. A ' he ' is used for a man, and a lady is described by a gentleman as ' the fairest she he has yet beheld.' In the second place, every variety of apparent grammati- cal inaccuracy meets us. He for him, him for he ; spoke and took for spoken and taken ; plural nominatives with singular verbs ; relatives omitted where they are now considered necessary ; unnecessary an- tecedents inserted ; shall for will, should for would, would for wish ,* to omitted after '2 ought] inserted after i I durst;" 1 double nega- tives • double comparatives (' more better,' &c.) and superlatives ; such followed by which [or that], that by as, as used for as if ; that for so that ; and lastly some verbs apparently with two nominatives, and others without any nominative at all."— Dr. Abbott's Shakespe- rian Grammar. Shakespeare's Versification. Shakespeare's Plays are written mainly in what is known as un- fimed, or blank-verse ; but they contain a number of riming, and a considerable number of prose, lines. As a general rule, rime is much commoner in the earlier than in the later plays. Thus, Love's Labor's Lost contains nearly 1,100 riming lines, while (if we except the songs) Winter's Tale has none. The Merchant of Venice has 124. In speaking we lay a stress on particular syllables : this stress is called accent. When the words of a composition are so arranged that the accent recurs at regular intervals, the composition is said to be metrical or rhythmical. Rhythm, or Metre, is an embellishment of language which, though it does not constitute poetry itself, yet provides it with a suitably elegant dress ; and hence most mod?"Q poets have written in metre. In blank verse the lines consist u**» aXy of ten syllables, of which the second, fourth, sixth, eighth, and Jeath are accented. The line consists, therefore, of five parts, each of which contains an unaccented followed by an accented syllable, as in the word attend. Each of these five parts forms what is called afoot or measure ; and the five together form a pentameter. " Penta- meter "is a Greek word signifying "five measures." This is the usual form of a line of blank verse. But a long poem composed en- tirely of such lines would be monotonous, and for the sake of variety several important modifications have been introduced. (a) After the tenth syllable, one or two unaccented syllables are sometimes added ; as— " Me-thought | you said | you nei \ ther lend \ nor bor I row.' 1 '' (b) In any foot the accent may be shifted from the second to the first syllable, provided two accented syllables do not come together. " Pluck' the | young suck' | ing cubs' \ from the' \ she bear'. | * (c) In such words as "yesterday," "voluntary," "honesty," the syllables -day, -to-, and ty falling in the place of the accent, are, for the purposes of the verse, regarded as truly accented. " Bars' me I the right' \ of vol'- | un-ta' I ry choos' \ ing.'''' (d) Sometimes we have a succession of accented syllables ; this occurs with monosyllabic feet only. " Why, noiv, blow wind, sweU billow, and swim bark.' 1 '' (e) Sometimes, but more rarely, two or even three unaccented syllables occupy the place of one ; as — "He says | he does, | be-ing then \ most flat \ ter-edy (f) Lines may have any number of feet from one to six. Finally, Shakespeare adds much to the pleasing variety of hi? blank verse by placing the pauses in different parts of the line (especially after the second or third foot), instead of placing them all at the ends of lines, as was the earlier custom. N. B. — In some cases the rhythm requires that what we usually pronounce as one syllable shall be divided into two, asfl-er (fire), su-er (sure), mi-el /mile), &c. ; too-elve (twelve), jaiv-ee (joy), &c. Similarly, she-on (-tion or -sion). It is very important to give the pupil plenty of ear-training by means of formal scansion. This will greatly assist him id **» reading. PLAN OF STUDY 'PERFECT POSSESSION/ To attain to the standard of ' Perfect Pos- session,' the reader ought to have an inti- mate and ready knowledge of the subject. (See opposite page.) The student ought, first of all, to read the play as a pleasure ; then to read it over again, with his mind upon the characters and the plot ; and lastly, to read it for the meanings, grammar, &c. With the help of the scheme, he can easily draw up for himself short examination papers (i) on each scene, (2) on each act, (3) on the whole play. IX 1. The Plot and Story of the Play. (a) The general plot ; (p) The special incidents. 2. The Characters: Ability to give a connected account of all that is done and most of what is said by- each character in the play. 3. The Influence and Interplay of the Characters upon each other. (a) Relation of A to B and of B to A ; (b) Relation of A to C and D. 4. Complete Possession of the Language. (a) Meanings of words ; (&) Use of old words, or of words in an old mean- ing; (c) Grammar; (d) Ability to quote lines to illustrate a gram- matical point. & Power to Reproduce, or Quote. (a) What was said by A or B on a particular occasion ; (d) What was said by A in reply to B ; (c) What argument was used by C at a particu- lar juncture ; (d) To quote a line in instance of an idiom or of a peculiar meaning. 6. Power to Locate. (a) To attribute a line or statement to a certain person on a certain occasion ; (5) To cap a line ; (c) To fill in the right word or epithet. INTRODUCTION TO THE WINTER'S TALE. The Winter's Tale appears to have first seen public light in the spring of 1611 ; and the internal evidence from style and thought shows, even if no external evi- dence were forthcoming, that it must have been one of Shakespeare's latest plays, written not merely when his wisdom of life and his power over language were most complete, but when, after all his struggles, in- ward and outward, he had reached that perfection of peace which his latest plays so delightfully reflect. For the materials of his plot, Shakespeare has, as frequently, been content to take a well known novel of the time, in the present instance, that of Pandosto* or Dorastus and Fawnia, by Robert Greene; but, though closely following the story in its main incidents, more especially in the earlier portions, he has introduced characters (Antigonus, Paulina, and Autolycus) which have no antitypes in the novel, and by his spiritual treatment of the subject has made it as much his own 10 INTRODUCTION. n as if he had drawn upon his invention for the whole story. In regard to the general spirit of The Winter's Tale, no other criticism with which I am acquainted sums it up so well as Professor Dowden's words when, in refer- ence to the plays of Shakespeare's final period, he speaks of their " pathetic yet august serenity." Of the same group he further remarks that in each of them " While grievous errors of the heart are shown to us, and wrongs of man as cruel as those of the great tragedies, at the end there is a resolution of the dissonance, a reconciliation. This is the word which interprets Shakespeare's latest plays — reconciliation, ' word over all, beautiful as the sky.' It is not, as in the earlier comedies — The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Much Ado abotU Nothing, As You Like It, and others — a mere de- nouement. The resolution of the discords in these latest plays is not a mere stage necessity, or a necessity of composition, resorted to by the dramatist to effect an ending of his play, and little interesting his imagination or his heart. Its significance here is ethical and spirit- ual ; it is a moral necessity." And again, " Over the beauty of youth and the love of youth, there is shed, in these plays of Shakespeare's final period, a clear yet tender luminousness, not elsewhere to be perceived in his writings. In his earlier plays, Shakespeare writes concerning young men and maidens, their loves, their mirth, their griefs, as one who is among them, who has a lively, personal interest in their concerns, who 12 INTRODUCTION. can make merry with them, treat them familiarly, and, if need be, can mock them into good sense. There is nothing in these early plays wonderful, strangely beau- tiful, pathetic about youth and its joys and sorrows. In the histories and tragedies, as was to be expected, more massive, broader, or more profound objects of interest engaged the poet's imagination. But in these latest plays, the beautiful pathetic light is always pres- ent. There are the sufferers, aged, experienced, tried — Queen Katherine, Prospero, Hermione. And over against these there are the children absorbed in their happy and exquisite egoism, — Perdita and Miranda, Florizel and Ferdinand, and the boys of old Belarius." Greene's novel, so far from resembling Helena's de- scription of herself and Hermia, " Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet a union in partition, 1 ' is in reality two stories lightly linked together by the circumstance that the same persons play a part in both. The former of the two stories, that of Leontes' jeal- ousy and his vengeance upon Hermione, occupies the first three acts; the latter story, dealing with the loves of Perdita and Florizel, and the reconciliation of Her- mione and Leontes born of those loves, completes the play. Gervinus very aptly speaks of the "wasp-like body of Greene's story," and remarks, " While Shakes- peare has at other times permitted in his dramas the existence of a two-fold action, connected by a common IN TROD UCTION. 1 3 idea, it was not necessary, in the instance before us, to sever the wasp-like body of Greene's story, nor could he have entirely concentrated the two actions ; he could but connect them indistinctly by a leading idea in both, although the manner in which he has outwardly con- nected them is a delicate and spirited piece of art, uniting, as he has done, tragedy and comedy, making the one elevate the other, and thus enriching the stage with a tragi-comic pastoral, a combination wholly unknown even to the good Polonius." The curtain rises upon the Court of Leontes, King of Sicily, which his friend Polixenes, King of Bohemia, is preparing to leave, after having paid a visit of nine months' length. Failing to persuade him to stay longer, Leontes urges his queen to see whether her influence with their guest may not be more powerful than his own. Hermione, obeying, succeeds. Here- upon Leontes gives way to an outburst of passionate jealousy during which he communicates to his old servant, Camillo, his certain assurance of his wife's dis- loyalty, and after much importunity obtains from him a promise to poison Polixenes. The promise is, how- ever, given merely in order that time may be gained to facilitate the escape of Polixenes, in company with whom Camillo determines to flee from his master's wrath. Foiled in this point, Leontes can only wreak his vengeance upon his wife, whom he consigns to prison, pending her trial for adultery and conspiracy. Meanwhile ambassadors are dispatched to Delphos to i 4 IN TROD UCTION. procure the response of the Oracle as to Hermione's guilt or innocence. On their return, the trial proceeds, Hermione defends herself with a noble eloquence, and the response, being read out, declares her entire innocence, brands Leontes as a tyrant, and foretells the consequences of his -cruelty. But not even this is able to shake Leontes' confidence in his own penetra- tion. Or, if he is at all shaken, the vindictive feelings he has been hugging to his heart will not allow him to confess his error : — " There is no truth at all i 1 the oracle ; The sessions shall proceed ; this is mere falsehood," is his answer to the rejoicings of the lords. The words are scarce spoken when news is brought of Ma- millius' sudden death. Leontes quails before this evi- dent token of heaven's wrath ; and his tenderness to- wards Hermione returns as she goes off into a swoon. But a greater blow is to follow. In a few minutes Paulina, who had accompanied Hermione when borne out of the court of justice, re-enters with the news of her death, and heaps the bitterst reproaches upon the now deeply-penitent King. The queen, of course, had not really died ; but the moment had come for putting into execution the stratagem, which we may suppose to have been already planned, whereby she is to be concealed from the king's knowledge until such time as his repentance and expiation should seem to be adequate to the enormity of his crime. The act IN TROD UCTION. 1 5 closes with a scene in which Antigonus, with the in- fant Perdita, lands on the coast of Bohemia, he, on condition of her life being spared, having consented to the king's terms " That thou bear it To some remote and desert place quite out Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it, Without more mercy, to it own protection And favor of the climate. 1 ' Antigonus' literal discharge of the king's command has hardly beep *"" — wormed when he is pursued and torn to pieces uy a bear. His death is followed by the entrance of a shepherd who discovers Perdita, and car- ries her home to his cottage to be brought up as his own child. We have now gone far enough in the story to take a retrospect of Hermione's bearing as seen in the mat- ter which caused Leontes' outburst of jealousy, and her subsequent bearing when accused of, and brought to trial for, an offense of which she knew herself so clear. In reality, and to any one not predisposed, whether by temperament or by imagined evidence, to suspicions wholly unjust, her behavior towards Polix- enes is nothing more than that of a pure-minded woman, who, enjoying to the full the friendship of a high- souled and altogether admirable man, is also persuaded that the greater her kindness to her guest, the better will she please a husband between whom and herself there had been mutual love and trust throughout a long course of years. Conscious of her complete loy- 16 INTRODUCTION.] alty, she is less afraid to be outspoken in her inter- course with one of the opposite sex than would have been the case were there any coquetry in her nature. Hence her playful persistency in the friendly passage at arms with Polixenes, hence the undisguised marks of intimacy shown towards him when, he having yielded to her persuasion, they converse together in Leontes' presence, and are seen by him as they retire to the garden. It should, I think, be here noted, inregard to the courtesies which pass between them, that in Shake- speare's day, — and of course the manners here por- trayed are those of that day, — the fashions in vogue admitted in some respects of a more demonstrative familiarity of outward behavior than would accord with the reserved decorum of modern life. This we must bear in mind when considering Leontes' com- ments on the behavior of Hermione and Polixenes ; for, omitting those instances which had their existence in Leontes' imagination only, the familiarities which they make no attempt to conceal, and which he so painfully misconstrues, are such as under the social code of the present day would be rightly taken to mean something more than mere friendship. So un- conscious, however, is Hermione of anything like im- modesty, that up to the moment when she tells Leontes that he will find them together in the garden, neither she nor Polixenes is in the least aware that their be- havior had given rise to the faintest suspicion in his IN TROD UCTIOiV. 1 7 mind. It is therefore with something more than sur- prise, with an absolute incredulity, that she receives the first manifestation of her husband's jealousy. "What is this? Sport?" she says in answer to his words , " Give me the boy : I 'm glad you did not nurse him : Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.' 1 Leontes then proceeds to speak without any ambiguity of charge, telling her that she is with child by Polix- enes. Even this plain accusation is treated as some- thing that cannot be really, seriously, maintained by him : it would be enough, she says, for her to deny the imputation, and he would believe her, whatever his inclination to doubt. Further scorn heaped upon her only provokes the calmly indignant reply that Leontes does " but mistake." And when at last, pouring out all his abundance of vituperation, he orders her to prison, her theme is the grief that he will feel when he comes to a just knowledge of the wrong he has done her, and the patience that it behoves her to show under circumstances so untoward that she can only believe " There 's some ill planet reigns," some supernatural influence which has distraught her once loving and tender husband. Hurried off to prison, she bears herself with that dignity which under all changes of fortune is so peculiarly characteristic of her, though her grief is at the same time so terrible as to cause her to be delivered of a child " something before her 1 8 IN TR OD UC TION. time." Then, when still scarcely in a condition to go about, even if surrounded with all the comforts and at- tentions to which she had been used, she is summoned before a court of justice to be tried for her life ' ' 'fore who please to come and hear," and to be treated by her husband in terms. of shameless brutality. In an- swer to her arraignment, though well aware that denial of her guilt is not likely to avail her much, she touch - ingly asserts her continence and chastity during her past life, appealing to the divine powers in support of her asseveration, and even to that husband from whose vindictive unreason she is suffering so keenly. Life and honor are at stake with her ; for the former she cares nothing, now that her husband's love has for- saken her ; for the latter, more especially that her children must be partakers in the result of the trial, she will fight with such weapons as are in her hands. She asks, therefore, whether before Polixenes' visit she had ever been guilty of aught that should invite suspicion ; she points out that to him she had shown only such love as became a lady like herself, only such love as Leontes himself had enjoined her to show ; she . denies all knowledge of any conspiracy between Polix- enes and Camillo ; she bewails the loss of her children, her boy from whose presence she is ' ' barr'd like one infectious," her new-born girl, from her breast " hal'd out to murder ; " she refers to the indignities to which she has been subjected ; and closes her defense by reiterating her indifference to life while yet so care- INTRODUCTION. 19 ful of her honor, and by invoking the oracle to protect her against condemnation upon mere surmise, against a judgment which shall be " rigor and not law." The jealousy of Leontes has been contrasted with that of Othello ; and the points are many in which the character of the passion exhibited differs radically in the two men. In the case of Othello, the first suspi- cions are prompted by another, and fortified with a fiendish ingenuity of suggestion and circumstantial evidence sufficient to convince almost any husband, more especially a husband so diffident as was Othello of his power to please a woman. In the case of Le- ontes, the suspicious circumstances are wholly of his own creation; and the only person (Camillo) whom he takes into his confidence when he first openly gives way to his passion, uses every possible argument to convince him that he is the subject of a thoroughly baseless and unworthy delusion. Secondly, the jeal- ousy of Othello is pathetic, tender, as far as possible impersonal, and carrying with it " confusion and de- spair at the loss of what had been to him the fairest thing on earth " (Dowden). The jealousy of Leontes is hard, vindictive, eminently selfish, and unac- companied by any reluctance as to the course he is about to pursue. There are other circumstances in which this contrast might be developed ; and it will, I think, be worth while to notice at some length one point which does not seem to have received from the critics such investi- 20 IN TR OD UC TION. gation as it deserves. I refer to the birth and growth of the passion in Leontes' mind. By general consent that passion appears to be regarded as something sud- den, almost instantaneous, — the outcome of a single incident. Thus Gervinus remarks, " The idea of his wife's faithlessness arises in Leontes from the quick result of her entreaty to PoHxenes to prolong his stay a little. . . . This actually is the whole ground for Leontes' jealousy." According to Dowden, " Her- mione is suspected of a sudden, and shameless dishon- or." . . . Hudson, who discusses the point more at length, writes, " In the delineation of Leontes there is an abruptness of change which strikes us, at first view, as not a little a-clash with nature, . . . his jeal- ousy shoots in comet-like, as something unprovided for in the general ordering of his character, which causes this feature to appear as if it were suggested rather by the exigencies of the stage than by the natu- ral workings of human passion. And herein the poet seems at variance with himself ; his usual method being to unfold a passion in its rise and progress, so that we go along with it freely from its origin to its consumma. tion. And certainly there is no accounting for Le- ontes' conduct, but by supposing a predisposition to jealousy in him, which, however, has been hitherto kept latent by his wife's clear, firm, serene discreetness, but which breaks out into sudden and frightful activity as soon as she, under a special pressure of motives, slightly over-acts the confidence of friendship." How- IN TROD UCTION. 2 1 ever reluctantly, this critic seems to accept the idea that Leontes' jealousy was a sudden and almost unac- countable birth. Such suddenness, if established, of course enhances the madness of the consequent ac- tion. But is it established ? I venture to doubt this. In the novel, at all events, Leontes' doubts are gradual and of considerable duration; there was no suddenness of jealousy on the king's part. Has Shakespeare in Leontes' jealousy given us a picture of what is unnat- ural, almost monstrous? In the first place, I think that his familiarity with the novel may perhaps have unconsciously led him to treat that which was so well known to himself as if it were equally well known to those for whom he was writing ; and, the interest of the story beginning at the moment when Leontes' jealousy first openly manifests itself, he may not have thought it necessary to show in any detailed manner what the stages of that jealousy had been. He could not have failed to note the minuteness of description with which Greene records the progress of the passion in Leontes' mind ; nor are we in this matter without echoes in the play of the language of the novel. For instance, when Leontes says, " I 'm angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line," we have but a dramatic version of the narrative, ' ' Hee began to watch them more narrowely to see if he coulde gette any true or certaine proofe to confirme his 22 INTRODUCTION. doubtfull suspition " ; just as Camillo's words of ad- vice, after promising to poison Polixenes, " Go then ; and with a countenance as clear As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia," and Leontes' answer, I i " I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me," are but the equivalent of another sentence in Greene, " Whereupon, desirous to revenge so great an injury, he thought best to dissemble the grudge with a faire and friendly countenance, and so under the shape of a friend to shew him the kicke of a foe" ; while Her- mione's remark of surprise, 1 ' You look As if you held a brow of much distraction," is paralleled by the " lowring countenance " and "un- accustomed frowns" of the novel. If, as Hudson apologetically remarks, " Shakespeare had a course of action marked out for him in the tale," we may a priori suppose that he would be likely to follow it so far as it accorded with nature ; and, in a matter of this kind, however it might be in others, he could have nothing to gain by increasing the improbabilities of the plot. But, further, I hold that in the play itself we have plain indications that the growth of Leontes' pas- sion had been a gradual one. These indications are, no doubt, retrospective, but none the less clear for INTRODUCTION. 23 that. Consider, first, Leontes' speech to Camillo in the second scene of the first act : — " To bide upon 't, thou art not honest ; or, If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining From course requirM ; or else thou must be counted A servant grafted in my serious trust And therein negligent ; or else a fool That seest a game played home, the rich stake drawn, And tafcst it all for jest." Surely, this is the language not of a man who has on a sudden discovered or doubted his wife's loyalty, bat of one who has long doubted, and who, for that reason, cannot understand that what has seemed so full of sus- picion to him, should not have been equally suspicious to others also. His next speech is even more de- cisively contemptuous of those who have been blind to things staring himself so fully in the face : — "Ha 1 not you seen, Camillo,— But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-gla Is thicker than a cuckold 's horn, — or heard* For, to a vision so apparent, rumor Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation Resides not in that matt that does not think, — My wife is slippery ? If thou wilt confess, Or else be impudently negative, To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say My wife 's a hobby-horse, deserves a name As rank as any flax-wench that puts to Before her troth-plight :" that is, in plain language, you must have constantly 24 INTRODUCTION. seen, as I have, their questionable familiarities ; you must have constantly heard that talked about which was so evident to everybody in the court ; you must have constantly ruminated over a subject which cannot but have entered into the mind of any one capable of thinking at all. And when Camillo still upholds the honor of his mistress and rebukes the unjustifiable suspicions to which he has been made to listen, Leontes bursts forth with a narration of overt acts which from time to time have come before his eyes : — " Is whispering nothing- ? Is leaning cheek to cheek ? is meeting noses ? Kissing with inside lip ? stopping the career Of laughing with a sigh ? — a note infallible Of breaking honesty— horsing foot on foot ? Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? Hours, minutes ? noon, midnight ? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? Why, then the world and all that 's in 't is nothing ; The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing ; My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing. 1 ' Some of the familiarities here mentioned are such as Leontes observed immediately after Polixenes had yielded to Hermione's entreaty to stay ; but there are others of them that cannot but refer to an earlier ex- perience, and to passages in their intercourse of con- siderable duration. In fact, Leontes' words indicate more than anything else a long-continued watchfulness IN TR OD UC TION. 2 5 1 that makes him alert to misconstrue any courtesies however innocent, and alert also to imagine familiari- ties which he could not have seen. Lastly, when Camillo refuses to poison Polixenes because he cannot be brought to "believe this crack to be in" his " dread mistress," Leontes fiercely turns upon him with the question whether any man, and he himself of all men, would be fool enough to cherish a maddening conviction unless he had good and sufficient proof of that which caused him such torture : — " Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, T" 1 appoint myself in this vexation, sully The purity and whiteness of my sheets, — Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps, — Give scandal to the blood o 1 the prince my son, Who I do think is mine and love as mine, Without ripe moving to V ? Would I do this ? Could man so blench .*" Are these the arguments of one who on the spur of the moment would jump to the condemnation of his wife, more especially such a wife as Hermione, and a wife for all these years acknowledged by him to be what we know Hermione was ? Do they not rather indicate a long brooding of jealousy, a thorough con- sciousness of the terrible step he is taking, a conviction that the evidence which had been accumulating for months is by this latest proof of Hermione's influence over Polixenes now made irrefragable ? It is no an- swer to say that his jealousy was baseless and unrea- 26 INTRODUCTION. soning. The demon having once been allowed en- trance into his bosom, constant communing with it would only confirm and exaggerate suspicions which, if sudden, would probably have yielded to Camillo's arguments. When dwelt upon, " Trifles light as air Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ ;" and in the blind perversity and obstinate tenacity of belief shown by one hitherto so free from anything like distrust, it seems to me that we must rather recognize his inability any longer to control the fierce current which had for some time past been threatening to carry him away. We now come to the second part of the story which occupies the last two acts. Sixteen years having elapsed since the trial of Hermione, Time, with a passing reference to what has happened in the interval, comes forward as Chorus to apologize for the demand made upon the spectators' imagination, and to explain the change of scene, which is now laid in Bohemia. Here we find Camillo imploring Polixenes to allow him to return to Sicily, there to end his days, and Polixenes as earnestly pressing Camillo not to leave him. Among other arguments which the king uses is his anxiety about his son, Florizel, whom he sus- pects of having fallen in love with a certain shepherd's daughter. Camillo yields to the king's entreaties ; and, with the intervention of a scene which introduces INTRODUCTION. 27 that delightful rogue, Autolycus, we come to the sheep-shearing festival at which Perdita, as the shep- herd's putative daughter, presides. During the prog- ress of this festival , Florizel in the presence of Polix- enes and Camillo, who have come there disguised, is on the point of formally betrothing himself to Perdita, when the king, unmasking, puts an end to the project. Upon the king's subsequent departure, Florizel and Perdita determine to elope together. Camillo, desir- ous on every account, and more especially as a means of procuring his own return home, to effect a reconcil- iation between the two kings, suggests to the runa- ways that they should proceed to Sicily, Florizel mak- ing pretense of a mission of peace from Polixenes. So soon as they shall have sailed, he promises to him- self to betray their intentions to the king, and so in- duce him to follow them. Florizel and Perdita take Camillo's advice, and the fifth act opens upon their arrival at Leontes' court, where they are received with every mark of kindness. Polixenes and Camillo are, however, in quick pursuit and reach Sicily close at their heels. By means of the clothes and ornaments which the old shepherd had preserved, Perdita's real birth is discovered and Leontes' consent is given to her marriage with Florizel. But before the wedding takes place the two kings, with Perdita, Florizel, Camillo, etc., pay a visit to the chapel in which Pau- lina wishes to show them the statute of Hermione, ex- ecuted, as she alleges, by that cunning sculptor, Julio 28 IN TROD UCTION. Romano. The seeming statute proves to be Hermione herself, who for sixteen years has been attended upon by Paulina, and who, now that the oracle has been fulfilled and Leontes' sin expiated by his long penitence, restores herself to her husband's arms amid general reconciliation and rejoicing. In regard to Perdita, having nothing new to put forward, I leave the student to Mrs. Jameson's admir- able sketch of her character ; referring him to the same critic also for an explanation of the one circum- stance in the latter half of the play which has given rise to some discussion, viz., Hermione's long-endur- ing and self-imposed banishment from her husband. It may however be of some use to my readers if, in reference to the festival which occupies so prominent a part in the delineation of Perdita's character, some account is given of those held i ' especial honor in by- gone days. Apart from festivals of a purely religious origin, such as Christmas, Easter, Whitsuntide, Hallowmas, All Souls Day, etc. , etc. , and festivals partly religious, partly patriotic, such as St. George's Day, St. Pat- rick's Day, St. David's Day, St. Crispin's Day, etc., held in honor of the eponymous hero or saint, there were others, some of which have now fallen into much disuse, that celebrated a particular season of the year. Of these the more important were May- Day, Sheep-Shearing Time, Midsummer, Harvest- Home, and to all of these Shakespeare has frequent INTRODUCTION. 29 allusion. May-Day and Harvest- Home still retain much of their popularity, and are celebrated probably in every village of any size, though the encroachment of the town upon the country has shorn even these of some of their enthusiasm. Sheep-Shearing Time com mences as soon as the warm weather is so far settlec that the sheep may, without danger, lay aside their winter clothing ; the following tokens being laid down by Dyer in his " Fleece " (book i.) to mark out the proper time : — " If verdant elder spreads Her silver flowers ; if humble daisies yield To yellow crowfoot and luxuriant grass, Gay shearing time approaches.' 1 Our ancestors, who took advantage of every natural holiday, to keep it long and gladly, celebrated the time of sheep-shearing by a feast exclusively rural. In our play, the festivities begin with Perdita's pres- entation of emblematical flowers to the elder of her guests, and the season is denned by her in the words — " The year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter ; 11 and again — " Here's flowers for you ; Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th 1 sun And with him rises weeping : these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they 're given To men of middle age " : 30 INTRODUCTION. while for her younger guests she wishes she had some of the flowers that Proserpina " frighted " let ' ' fall from Dis's wagon." Then comes the dance of shep- herds and shepherdesses, the traffic with the pedler in all sorts of fairings, songs and ballads among them,' and finally, though the scene is interrupted, the " gal- limaufry of gambols," as the old shepherd calls the dance of the twelve satyrs. Mr. Wise, who quarrels with Shakespeare for "unaccountably" placing the festival in " middle summer " instead of at the latter end of spring, tells us that the passage in which the shepherd speaks of the welcome his wife used to give to all, " might to this day stand as a description of a harvest-supper at some of the old Warwickshire farm- houses"; and Dr. Furnivall notices how happily the scene " brings Shakespeare before us, mixing with his Stratford neighbors at their sheep-shearing and country sports, enjoying the vagabond pedler's gammon and talk, delighting in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, and buying them "fairings," telling goblin stories to the boys . . . and opening his heart afresh to all the innocent mirth and the beauty of nature around him." The picture is indeed one that betrays in every line Shakespeare's comprehensive sympathy; and the more it is, dwelt upon and felt, the more fully will his nature be understood. In the case of those to whom life in England is known only through books, it cannot be expected that they should take in all the beauty of this wonderful idyll ; yet Indian students will find much in IN TROD UCTION. 3 1 their own folk-lore and festivals of a similar origin that will help them to understand what Perdita's feast means to such as from their boyhood have known the sweet charm of English country-side landscape, bright- ened by the simple revels of its peasantry. However deeply the noble character and undeserved suffering of Hermione may be felt, the first thought that comes into an Englishman's mind when The Winter's Tale is mentioned, is the thought of Perdita among her flowers and her friends. This it is that gives its beauty to the play. Elsewhere we are moved to more intense pity, to profounder thought, to stronger impulses of various sympathy ; but, in beauty, Cymbeline alone of all Shakespeare's marvelous creations seems to me to take rank above The Winter's Tale. 32 DRAMA TIS PERSONS. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Leontes, king of Sicilia. Mamillius, young prince of Sicilia. Camillo, ] • > four Lords of Sicilia. Cleomenes, Dion, J Polixenes, king of Bohemia. Florizel, prince of Bohemia. Archidamus, a Lord of Bohemia. Old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita. Clown, his son. Autolycus, a rogue. A Mariner. A Jailer. Hermione, queen to Leontes. Perdita, daughter to Leontes and Hermione. Paulina, wife to Antigonus. Emilia, a lady attending on Hermione. _ ' I shepherdesses. Dorcas, ) r Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and Servants, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses. Time, as Chorus. Scene : Sicilia, and Bohemia THE WINTER'S TALE. ACT I Scene I. Antechamber in Leontes' palace. Ejiter Camillo and Archidamus. Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my ser- vices are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia. Cam. I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him. Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be justified in our loves; for indeed — 10 Ca?n. Beseech you, — Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence — in so rare — I know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks that your senses, unin- telligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us. Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely. 33 34 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. 20 Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understand- ing instructs me and as mine honesty puts it to utterance. Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods ; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, 30 have been royally attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies that they have seemed to be together, though absent ; shook hands, as over a vast ; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves ! Arch.. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an un- speakable comfort of your young prince Mamil- lius: it is a gentleman of the greatest promise 40 that ever came into my note. Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him : it is a gallant child ; one that indeed physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh : they that went on crutches ere he was born de- sire yet their life to see him a man. Arch. Would they else be content to die ? Cam. Yes ; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live. Arch. If the king had no son, they would de- 50 sire to live on crutches till he had one. [Exeunt. sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 35 SCENE II. A room of state in the same. Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Po- lixenes, Camillo, and Attendants. Pol. Nine changes of the watery star have been The shepherd's note since we have left our throne Without a burden : time as long again Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks And yet we should, for perpetuity, Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher, Yet standing in rich place, I multiply With one "We thank you" many thousands more That go before it. Leon. Stay your thanks a while ; And pay them when you part. 10 Pol. Sir, that 's to-morrow. I 'm question'd by my fears of what may chance Or breed upon our absence ; that may blow No sneaping winds at home, to make us say " This is put forth too truly !" besides, I have stay'd To tire your royalty. Leon. We 're tougher, brother, Than you can put us to 't. Pol. No longer stay. Leon. One seven-night longer. 20 Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We '11 part the time between 's then; and in that I'll no gainsaying. 36 . THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so. There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, So soon as yours, could win me : so it should now, Were there necessity in your request, although 'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs Do even drag me homeward : which to hinder 30 Were in your love a whip to me ; my stay To you a charge and trouble : to save both, Farewell, our brother. Leon. Tongue-tied our queen ? speak you. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir, Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure All in Bohemia 's well ; this satisfaction The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him, He 's beat from his best ward. 40 Leon. Well said, Hermione. Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong : But let him say so then, and let him go; But let him swear so, and he shall not stay, We '11 thwack him hence with distaffs. Yet of your royal presence [ To Polzxenes] I '11 adventure The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia You take my lord, I'll give him my commission To let him there a month behind the gest Prefix'd for 's parting : yet, good deed, Leontes, 50 I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind sc. II.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 37 What lady-she her lord. — You '11 stay? Pol. No, madam. Her. Nay, but you will ? Pol. I may not, verily. Her. Verily ! You put me off with limber vows ; but I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, Should yet say " Sir, no going." Verily, You shall not go : a lady's " Verily " is As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet ? 60 Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Not like a guest ; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you ? My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread "Verily," One of them you shall be. Pol. Your guest, then, madam : To be your 'prisoner should import offending; Which is for me less easy to commit Than you to punish. Her. Not your jailer, then, 70 But your kind hostess. Come, I '11 question you Of my lord's tricks and yours when, you were boys : You were pretty lordings then? Pol. We were, fair queen, Two lads that thought there was no more be- hind But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And to be boy eternal. 38 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. Her. Was not by lord The verier wag o' the two ? 80 Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at th' other : what we chang'd Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd That any did. Had we -pursued that life, And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven Boldly " Not guilty ;" the imposition clear'd Hereditary ours. Her. By this we gather 90 You have tripp'd since. Pol. O my most sacred lady ! Temptations have since then been born to 's ; for In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl ; Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes Of my young playfellow. Her. Grace to boot ! Of this make no conclusion, lest you say Your queen and I are devils : yet go on ; The offenses we have made you do we '11 answer, 100 If you first sinn'd with us and that with us You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not With any but with us. Leon. Is he won yet ? Her. He '11 stay, my lord. Leon. At my request he would not. Hermione, my dear'st, thou never spokest To better purpose. sc. II.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 39 Her. Never ? Leon. Never, but once. Her. What! have I twice said well? when no was 't before ? I prithee tell me ; cram 's with praise, and make 's As fat as tame things : one good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages : you may rides With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal : My last good deed was to entreat his stay : What was my first ? it has an elder sister, Or I mistake you : O, would her name were Grace ! But once before I spoke to the purpose : when ? 120 Nay, let me have 't ; I long. Leoji. Why, that was when Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand And clasp thyself my love : then didst thou utter " I am yours for ever." Her. 'T is grace indeed. Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice : The one for ever earn'd a royal husband ; The other for some while a friend. 130 [Giving her hand to Polixenes. Leon. [Aside'] Too hot, too hot ! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I've tremor cordis on me : my heart dances ; But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment 4 o THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. May a free face put on ; derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent ; 't may, I grant ; But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practic'd smiles, 140 As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 't were The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment My bosom likes not/ nor my brows ! Ma- millius, Art thou my boy ? Mam. Ay, my good lord. Leon. I' fecks ! Why, that 's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose ? They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, cap- tain, We must be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, cap- tain : And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf 150 Are all call'd neat. — Still virginalling Upon his palm ! — How now„ you wanton calf ! Art thou my calf? Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have, To be full like me : yet they say we are Almost as like as eggs ; women say so, That will say anything : but were they false As o'er-dy'd blacks, as wind, as waters, false As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes 160 No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, Look on me with your welkin eye : sweet villain ! sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 41 Most dear'st ! my collop ! Can thy dam ? — may. 't be ? — Affection, thy intention stabs the center : Thou dost make possible things not so held, Communicat'st with dreams ; how can this be ? — With what's unreal thou coactive art, And fellow'st nothing : then 't is very credent Thou mayst co-join with something ; and thou dost, And that beyond commission, and I find it, 170 And that to the infection of my brains And hardening of my brows. Pol. What means Sicilia? Her. He something seems unsettled. Pol. How, my lord ! What cheer ? how is 't with you, best brother ? Her. You look As if you held a brow of much distraction : Are you mov'd, my lord ? Leon. No, in good earnest. 180 How sometimes nature will betray its folly, It's tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous : How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman. Mine honesticp friend, Will you take eggs for money ? Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight. 42 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. Leon. You will ! why, happy man be 's dole ! My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince as we Do seem to be of ours ? Pol. If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter, Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy, My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all : 200 He makes a July's day short as December, And with his varying childness cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood. Leon. So stands this squire Offic'd with me : we two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, How thou lovest us, show in our brother's wel- come ; Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap : Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's Apparent to my heart. 210 Her. If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden : shall 's attend you there ? Leon. To your own bents dispose you : you '11 be found, Be you beneath the sky. [Aside'] I'm angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line. Go to, go to ! How she holds up the neb, the bill to him ! And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband ! \Exeunt Polixenes, Herinione, and Atte7idants. Gone already ! sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 43 Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd 220 one ! Go, play, boy, play : thy mother plays, and I Play too, but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave : contempt and clamor Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been, Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now. Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there is none ; It is a " pest'lent" planet, that will strike Where 't is predominant ; many thousand on 's 230 Have the disease, and feel 't not. How now, boy ! Mam. I am like you, they say. Leon. Why, that 's some comfort. What, Camillo there? Cam. Ay, my good lord. Leoii. Go play, Mamillius ; thou 'rt an honest man. {Exit Mamillius. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. Cam. You 'd much ado to make his anchor hold : When you cast out, it still came home. Leon. Didst note it ? 240 Cam. He would not stay at your petitions ; made His business more material. Leo?i. Didst perceive it ? [Aside] They 're here with me already, whisper- ing, rounding, 44 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act I. " Sicilia is a so-forth :" 't is far gone, When I shall gust it last. How came 't, Camillo, That he did stay ? Cam. At the good queen's entreaty. Leo7i. At the queen's be't : "good" should be pertinent ; - 250 But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken By any understanding pate but thine ? For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in More than the common blocks : not noted, is 't, But of the finer natures ? by some severals Of head-piece extraordinary ? lower messes Perchance are to this business purblind ? say. Cam. Business, my lord ! I think most under- . stand Bohemia stays here longer. Leon. Ha ! 260 Cam. Stays here longer. Leo7i, Ay, but why ? Cam. To satisfy your highness and the en- treaties Of our most gracious mistress. Leon. Satisfy The entreaties of your mistress ! satisfy ! Let that suffice. I 've trusted thee, Camillo, With all the near'st things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils ; wherein, priest-like, thou Hast cleansed my bosom ; I from thee departed 270 Thy penitent reform'd ; but we have been Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd In that which seems so. Cam. Be 't forbid, my lord ! Leoti. To bide upon 't, thou art not honest ; or, sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 45 If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining From course required ; or else thou must be counted A servant grafted in my serious trust And therein negligent ; or else a fool That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake 280 drawn And tak'st it all for jest. Cam. My gracious lord, I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful ; In every one of these no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, fear, Among the infinite doings of the world, Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, If ever I were wilful-negligent, It was my folly ; if industriously I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 290 Not weighing well the end ; if ever fearful To do a thing, where I the issue doubted, Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance, 't was a fear Which oft infects the wisest : these, my lord, Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty Is never free of. But, beseech your grace, Be plainer with me ; let me know my trespass By its own visage : if I then deny it, 'T is none of mine. 300 Leon. Ha' not you seen, Camillo, — But that's past doubt, you have, or your eyeglass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, — or heard, — For, to a vision so apparent, rumor Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation 46 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. Resides, not in that man that does not think, — My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, Or else be impudently negative, To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say 310 My wife's a hobby-horse : say 't and justify 't. Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear My sovereign mistress clouded so, without My present vengeance taken : 'shrew my heart, You never spoke what did become you less Than this; which to reiterate were sin As deep as that, though true. Leon. Is whispering nothing ? Is leaning cheek to cheek ? is meeting noses ? Kissing with inside lip ? stopping the career 320 Of laughing with a sigh ? — a note infallible Of breaking honesty — horsing foot on foot ? Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? Why, then the world and all that 's in 't is noth- ing; The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing ; My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have these noth- ings, If this be nothing. 330 Cam. Good my lord, be cured Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes, For 't is most dangerous. Leon. Say it be, 't is true. Cam. No, no, my lord. Leon. It is ; yo\i lie, you lie : sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 47 I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, Or else a hovering temporizer, that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver 34? Infected as her life, she would not live The running of one glass. Cam. Who does infect her ? Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal hanging About his neck, Bohemia : who, if I Had servants true about me, that bare eyes To see alike mine honor as their profits, Their own particular thrifts, they would do that Which should undo more doing : ay, and thou, His cup-bearer, — whom I from meaner form 35') Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see Plainly, as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven, How I am galled, — mightst bespice a cup To give mine enemy a lasting wink ; Which draught to me were cordial. Cam. Sir, my lord, I could do this, and that with no rash potion, But with a lingering dram that should not work Maliciously like poison ; but I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, 360 So sovereignly being honorable. I have loved thee, — Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot ! Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, T' appoint myself in this vexation, sully, 48 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. The purity and whiteness of my ' name,' — Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps, — Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, 370 Who I do think is mine and love as mine, Without ripe moving to 't ? Would I do this ? Could man so blench? Cam. I must believe you, sir : I do ; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't : Provided that, when he 's remov'd, your high- ness Will take again your queen as yours at first, Even for your son's sake ; and thereby for seal- ing The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms Known and allied to yours. 380 Leon. Thou dost advise me Even so as I mine own course have set down : I '11 give no blemish to her honor, none. Cam. My lord, Go then ; and, with a countenance as clear As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohe- mia And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer If from me he have wholesome beverage, Account me not your servant. Leon. This is all : 390 Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart ; Do 't not, thou split'st thine own. Cam. I'll do't, my lord. Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast ad- vis'd me. [Exit. Cam. O miserable lady ! But, for me, sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 49 What case stand I in ? I must be the poisoner Of good Polixenes ; and my ground to do 't Is the obedience to a master, one Who in rebellion with himself will have All that are his so too. To do this deed, Promotion follows. If I could find example 400 Of thousands that had struck anointed kings And flourish'd after, I 'd not do 't ; but since Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, Let villainy itself forswear 't. I must Forsake the court : to do 't, or no, is certain To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now ! Here comes Bohemia. Re-enter POLIXENES. Pol. This is strange : methinks My favor here begins to warp. Not speak ? Good day, Camillo. 410 Cam. Hail, most royal sir ! Pol. What is the news i' the court? Cam. None rare, my lord. Pol. The king hath on him such a counte- nance As he had lost some province and a region Lov'd as he loves himself : e'en now I met him With customary compliment ; when he, Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling A lip of much contempt, speeds from me, and So leaves me to consider what is breeding 420 That changeth thus his manners. Cam. I dare not know, my lord. Pol. How ! dare not ! do not. Do you know, and dare not 50 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act i. Be intelligent to me ? 't is thereabouts ; For, to yourself, what you do know you must, And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo, Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror Which shows me mine chang'd too ; for I must be A party in this alteration, finding 430 Myself thus alter'd with 't. Cam. There is a sickness Wihch puts some of us in distemper, but I cannot name the disease ; and it is caught Of you that yet are well. Pol. How ! caught of me ! Make me not sighted like the basilisk : I 've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo, — As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto 440 Clerk-like, experienc'd, which no less adorns Our gentry than our parents' noble names, In whose success we 're gentle, — I beseech you, If you know aught which does behove my knowledge Thereof to be inform'd, imprison 't not In ignorant concealment. Cam. I may not answer. Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well ! I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo, I conjure thee, by all the parts of man 450 Which honor does acknowledge, whereof the least Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare What incidency thou dost guess of harm sc. II.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 51 Is creeping toward me ; how far off, how near ; Which way to be prevented, if to be ; If not, how best to bear it. Cam. Sir, I 'ill tell you ; Since I am charg'd in honor and by him That I think honorable : therefore mark my counsel, Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me 460 Cry lost, and so good night ! Pol. On, good Camillo. Cam. I am appointed him to murder you. Pol. By whom, Camillo ? Cam. By the king. Pol. For what ? Cain. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, As he had seen 't or been an instrument To vice you to 't, that you have touch'd his queen Forbiddenly. 470 Pol. O, then my best blood turn To an infected jelly and my name Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best ! Turn then my freshest reputation to A savor that may strike the dullest nostril Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection That e'er was heard or read ! Cam. Swear this thought over By each particular star in heaven and 480 By all their influences, you may as well Forbid the sea for to obey the moon 52 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act I. As or by oath remove or counsel shake The fabric of his folly, whose foundation Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue The standing of his body. Pol. How should this grow ? Cam. I know not :- but I am sure 't is safer to Avoid what 's grown than question how 't is born. 490 If therefore you dare trust my honesty, That lies inclosed in this trunk which you Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night! Your followers I will whisper to the business, And will by twos and threes at several posterns Clear them o' the city. For myself, I'll put My fortunes to your service, which are here By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain ; For, by the honor of my parents, I Have utter'd truth : which if you seek to prove, 500 I dare,not stand by ; nor shall you be safer Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon His execution sworn. Pol. I do believe thee : I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand: Be pilot to me, and thy places shall Still neighbor mine. My ships are ready, and My people did expect my hence departure Two days ago. This jealousy Is for a precious creature : as she 's rare, 510 Must it be great ; and, as his person 's mighty, Must it be violent ; and, as he does conceive He is dishonor'd by a man which ever Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must sc. I.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 53 In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me: Good expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious queen, part of his theme, but noth- ing Of his ill-ta'en suspicion ! Come, Camillo ; I will respect thee as a father if Thou bear'st my life off hence : let us avoid. Cam. It is in mine authority to command 520 The keys of all the. posterns : please your high- ness To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. [Exeunt. ACT II. Scene I. A room i?i Leontes'/#/<2 . sc. ii.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 143 took her to be, who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery remained undiscovered. But 't is all one to me ; for had I been the finder out of this secret, it would not have relished among my other discredits. Enter Shepherd and Clown. Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms 14a of their fortune. Shep. Come, boy ; I am past more children, but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. Clo. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these clothes ? say you see them not and think me still no gentle- man born : you were best say these robes are not gentlemen born : give me the lie, do, and try 150 whether I am not now a gentleman born. Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours. Shep. And so have I. boy. Clo. So you have : but I was a gentleman born before my father ; for the king's son took me by the hand, and called me brother; and then the two kings called my father brother; and then 160 the prince my brother and the princess my sister called my father father; and so we wept, and 144 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act v. there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed. Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more. Clo. Ay; or else 't were hard luck, being in so preposterous estate as we are. Aut. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I have committed to your worship 170 and to give me your good report to the prince my master. Shep. Prithee, son, do ; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen. Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life ? , - Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship. Clo. Give me thy hand : I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. Shep. You may say it, but not swear it. 180 Clo. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman ? Let boors and franklins say it, I '11 swear it. Shep. How if it be false, son ? Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend : and I '11 swear to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk ; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be drunk : but I '11 swear it, and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy 190 hands. Aut. I will prove so, sir, to my power. Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow : if I do not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark ! the kings and the princes, our kindred sc. in.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 145 are going to see the queen's picture. Come, follow us : we '11 be thy good masters. [Exeunt. Scene III, A chapel in Paulina's house. Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, Per- dita, Camillo, Paulina, Lords, and At- tendants. Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort That I have had of thee ! Paul. What, sovereign sir, I did not well I meant well. All my services You have paid home : but that you have vouch- safe With your crown'd brother and these your con- tracted Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit, It is a surplus of your grace, which never My life may last to answer. Leon. O Paulina, 10 We honor you with trouble : but we came To see the statue of our queen : your gallery Have we pass'd through, not without much con- tent In many singularities ; but we saw not That which my daughter came to look upon, The statue of her mother. Paul. As she lived peerless, So her dead likeness, I do well believe, Excels whatever yet you look'd upon 146 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act v. 20 Or hand of man hath done ; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart. But here it is : prepare To see the life as lively mock'd as ever Still sleep mock'd. death : behold, and say 't is well. [Paulina draws a curtain, and discovers Hermione standing like a statue. I like your silence, it the more shows off Your wonder : but yet speak ; first, you, my liege. Comes it not something near ? Leon. Her natural posture ! — Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed Thou art Hermione ; or rather, thou art she 30 In thy not chiding, for she was as tender As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing So aged as this seems. Pol. O, not by much. Paul. So much the more our carver's excel- lence ; Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her As she lived now. Leo?i. As now she might have done, So much to my good comfort, as it is 40 Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, Even with such life of majesty, warm life, As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her ! I am asham'd : does not the stone rebuke me For being more stone than it ? O royal piece There 's magic in thy majesty, which has My evils conjur'd to remembrance and SC. in.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 147 From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, Standing like stone with thee. Per. And give me leave, And do not say 't is superstition, that 50 I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady, Dear queen, that ended when I but began, Give me that hand of yours to kiss. Paul. O, patience ! The statue is but newly fix'd, the color 's Not dry. Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on, Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, So many summers dry : scarce any joy Did ever so long live ; no sorrow 60 But kill'd itself much sooner. Pol. Dear my brother, Let him that was the cause of this have power To take off so much grief from you as he Will piece up in himself. Paul. Indeed, my lord, If I had thought the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you, — for the stone is mine — I 'd not have show'd it. Leon. Do not draw the curtain. 70 Patd. No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your fancy May think anon it moves. Leon. Let be, let be. Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already — What was he that did make it ? See, my lord, Wo^ld you not deem it breathed ? and that tlx^e Yeins 148 THE WINTER' S TALE. [act v. Did verily bear blood ? Pol. Masterly done : The very life seems warm upon her lip. 80 Leon. The fixture of her eye has motion in 't, As we are mock"d with art. Paul. - I'll draw the curtain : My lord 's almost so far transported that He '11 think anon it lives. Leon. O sweet Paulina, Make me to think so twenty years together 1 No settled senses of the world can match The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone. Paul. I 'm sorry, sir, I 've thus far stirr'd you : but 90 I could afflict you farther. Leon. Do, Paulina ; For this affliction has ataste as sweet As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks, There is an air comes from her : what fine chisel Could ever yet cut breath ? Let no man mock me, For I will kiss her. Paul. Good my lord, forbear : The ruddiness upon her lip is wet ; You '11 mar it if you kiss it, stain your own 100 With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain ? Leon. No, not these twenty years. Per. So long could I Stand by, a looker-on. Paul. Either forbear, Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you For more amazement. If you can behold it, I '11 make the statue move indeed, descend sc. in.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 149 And take you by the hand : but then you '11 think — Which I protest against — I am assisted By wicked powers. no Leon. What you can make her do I am content to look on : what to speak I am content to hear ; for 't is as easy To make her speak as move. Paul. It is required Yon do awake your faith. Then all stand still ; Or those that think it is unlawful business I am about, let them depart. Leon. Proceed : No foot shall stir. 120 Paul. Music, awake her ; strike ! {Music. 'T is time ; descend ; be stone no more ; approach ; Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, . '11 fill your grave up : stir, nay, come away, Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him Dear life redeems you. — You perceive she stirs : [Hei'mione comes down. Start not ; her actions shall be holy as You hear my spell is lawful : do not shun her /Until you see her die again ; for then You kill her double. Nay, present your hand : 130 When she was young you woo'd her ; now in age Is she become the suitor ? ■Leon. O, she 's warm ! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating. Pol. She embraces him. Cam. She hangs about his neck : Tf she pertain to life let her speak too. 150 THE WINTER'S TALE. [act y Pol. Ay, and make 't manifest where she has lived, 140 Or how stol'n from the dead. Paul. That she is living, Were it but told you, should be hooted at Like an old tale : but it appears she lives, Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. — Please you to interpose, fair madam : kneel And pray your mother's blessing. — Turn, good lady ; Our Perdita is found. Her. You gods, look down And from your sacred vials pour your graces 150 Upon my daughter's head ! — Tell me, mine own, Where hast thou been preserv'd ? where liv'd ? how found Thy father's court ? for thou shalt hear that I, Knowing by Paulina that the oracle Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserv'd Myself to see the issue. Paul. There 's time enough for tnat ; Lest they desire upon this push to trouble Your joys with like relation. Go together, You precious winners all; your exultation 160 Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there My mate, that 's never to be found again, Lament till I am lost. Leon. O, peace, Paulina ! Thou should'st a husband take by my consent As I by thine a wife : this is a match, And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found mine : sc. in.] THE WINTER'S TALE. 151 But how, is to be question'd ; for I saw her, As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many A prayer upon her grave. I '11 not seek far — 170 For him, I partly know his mind— to find thee An honorable husband. Come, Camillo, And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty Is richly noted and here justifi'd By us,a pair of kings. Let 's from this place. What ! look upon my brother : both your par- dons, That e'er I put between your holy looks My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law And son unto the king, who, heavens directing, Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina, 180 Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely Each one demand an answer to his part Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first We were dissever'd : hastily lead away. {Exeunt. NOTES. ACT I. Scene I. 2. Bohemia : here, and throughout the play, Hanmer sub- stitutes Bithynia for Bohemia. lb. On the like ... on foot, on an occasion like to that in which I am now employed. 4. Bohemia, the King of Bohemia, Polixenes. 9. Wherein . . . loves : though it will not be in our power to entertain you with the same magnificence, the sincerity of our love shall atone for our shortcomings. 11. Beseech you, pray continue what you were saying. 12. In the freedom . . . knowledge : I speak freely, being so fully conscious of our inability to vie with you in this re- spect. 15. Sleepy drinks, soporifics. 19. You pay . . . freely, you thank us too lavishly for our hospitality which is so readily given. 23. Sicilia . . . Bohemia. It is impossible for Leontes to be too kind to Polixenes. 26. Such an affection . . . now, an affection so strong was then implanted in their breasts that it cannot but manifest it- self now in loving deeds towards each other. For such . . . which, see Abbott's Shak. Gr. § 278. 27. Mature dignities, and royal necessities, the high posi- tion which on growing up they have been called upon to fill. 29. Their encounters . . . attorneyed, their meetings by proxy, by the interchange of embassies. An attorney is one appointed or constituted, and then one appointed to act for another. 33. Over a vast. Delius and Schmidt understand this as equivalent to a vast sea. But vast was formerly used in the sense of a waste place, a wide tract of uncultivated land. 34. Opposed winds, opposite quarters of the e^rth. 36. I think ... it. I believe that malicious suggestions c 152 sc. II.] NOTES. 153 designing persons would not be able to interrupt the continu- ance of their love for each other. 38. Of your, etc., as we should say " in your,' 1 etc. 40. Into my note, under my notice. 43. Physics the subject, the people collectively. As De- lius points out, the phrase is merely an adaptation of the words in the novel (Greene's Dorastus and Fawnia) trom which the .plot is taken : " Fortune .... lent them a sonne so adorned 'with the gifts of nature, as the perfection of the childe greatly augmented the love of the parents, and the joy of their com- mons.'''' Scene II. 1-3. Nine changes . . . burden : Nine times has the shep- herd" noted the changes of the moon,/.,?., nine months have gone by, since I left my throne without an occupant. Watery, from her influence upon the tides. 5, 6. And yet . . . debt : and still we should depart eternally in your debt. 6-9. And therefore . . . before it. A cipher at the right land, and not at the left as in decimal notaiion, multiplies the value of the figure. 13, 14. I am . . . absence. My fears constantly torture me with questions as to what may suddenly happen, or gradually develop itself, owing to my prolonged absence. 14, 16. That may blow . . . truly! This is generally taken as a wish, O that no nipping winds may blow 'no sharp storm of trouble burst upon me) to make me say, " ^ had only too good reason for my presentiments V Sneaping is connected with snap, snip, snub, and snujf'm the sense of cutting off the wick of a candle. 17. To tire, so as to tire. Id. Your royalty, your royal hospitality. 18, 19. We are ... to 't. We are made of better stuff than to have our hospitality taxed beyond its strength by any visit, however long, from one so dear to us. 21. One seven-night, we still use " fortnight," but '"seven- night" is almost obsolete. Very sooth, "sooth"' 1 and "good sooth 1 ' are used by Shakespeare without any preposition. 23. Part, halve. I '11 no gainsaying, I will take no refusal. 25-28. There is . . . it. Under ordinary circumstances your words would carry more persuasion with me than those of any one else in the world ; and now too I should yield if what you asked were something of urgent importance to yourself, even though my own interests dictated a refuss 1 - 154 NOTES. [act i. 29. Do even drag, not only draw me homeward, but drag me. 29, 30. Which to hinder ... to me. To hinder which (i. e., my return home) would be to make your love to me a punish- ment. Whip, in this metaphorical sense of scourge, instrument of correction, is frequent in Shakespeare. 31. To save both, the inconvenience to himself as well as " the charge and trouble"' 1 to Leontes. 34) 35» Until . . . stay, until he~ had bound himself in the strongest possible way not to remain, and then to have attacked him and compelled him to yield. 36. Charge, adjure. 37, 38. This satisfaction . . . proclaim'd, the news yester- day received from Bohemia satisfactorily proved this. 39. His best ward,, you beat down his strongest guard, a fencing term. For beat, see Abb. § 343. 41. To tell . . . strong. If he were to say that his anxiety to go was caused by his desire to see his son, that would be ar argument difficult to get over. 42-44. But let him . . . distaffs. Let him otiiy say so, and he is free to go; let him o?ily swear it, and we will not merely let him go but will forcibly drive him away: distaffs, because it is a woman who is speaking. 45, 46. Yet of . . . week, still, in. spite of all I will be bold enough to claim the loan of your presence here for a week longer. 46-49. When . . . parting, when you carry him off for a visit to you, I will authorize him to stay a month longer than the time fixed at his starting. To let him is used reflexively. Gests, or rather gists, from the Fr. giste (which signifies both a bed and a lodging-place), were the names cf the houses or towns where the king or prince intended to lie every night during his progress. 50, 51. I love thee . . . her lord, I love }-ou not one whit less than anv Lid y r whatsoever loves her husband. Jar o' the clock, tick of the clock ; lit. I am not one moment behind any woman in the world in loving, etc. On what, in an elliptical expres- sion like this, see Abb. § 255. 56. Limber, flexible, that can easily be bent or turned. " Closely allied to//;;//, flexible, and similarly formed from the same Teut. base LAP, to hang loosely down ; the j> being weakened to b for ease of pronunciation. The suffix -er is ad- jectival, as in bitt-er, fai-r* (Skeat, Ety. Did.'). 57. Though you . . . oaths, though you should endeavor by the strength of your oaths to bring the stars down from their sphere ; aa ailu^pn to the belief that witches and sorcerers sc. ii.] NOTES. 155 could by their oaths and incantations call down the moon from the sky. 60. Will you go yet ? are'you still determined upon going ? 62. So, in that case. 63. Save your thanks, not be put to the expense of thanks. Id. Behind, i.e. behind the present, in the future. 79. Verier, more complete, thorough. 81. What we changed, the thoughts we interchanged were pure and innocent. 85, 86. And our . . . blood, had not our innocent disposition been stirred to a higher pitch by stronger animal passion, we, etc. Rear'd here seems to involve the idea not only of being raised, but also the secondary idea of being brought up. 87, 88. The imposition . . . ours, " That is, were the penalty remitted which we inherit from the transgression of our first parents " (Staunton). 96. Grace to boot ! God help us ! show his grace to us ! Boot is a substantive, and signifies profit, advantage. Hermione is humorously indignant at the inference, to be drawn from Pol- ixenes' words, that his and Leontes' sins were due to their be- coming acquainted with their wives. 97. Of this . . . conclusion, do not carry your argument to its legitimate conclusion or you will be obliged to say that your queen and I are devils, i.e., in having tempte d you to swerve from the path of virtue. 112. As fat . . . things, those animals that are kept to be fat- tened for the table. lb. Tongueless, in a passive sense, not talked of. 114-116. You may . . . acre, a slight kindness will get a great deal more out of us than any amount of harshesss. Heat, travel over, from the substantive which means a measured dis- tance to be raced over. 116. But to the goal, but to come to the point. 118. It has . . . sister, I at some time previous did a deed that in goodness was akin to this. ' 119. O, would . . . Grace ! Would speak of it as a gracious deed. 123. Three crabbed . . . death, a reference to the sourness of the wild apple. 125. And clasp . . . love. The custom of joining hands as a token of betrothal. 127. 'Tis grace indeed. Then the name of that deed of mine is really " grace," as I hoped you would christen it. 132. To mingle . . . bloods. This extreme intimacy of friendship indicates a reciprocity of passionate feeling. 133. Tremor cordis, trembling, throbbing of the heart. 134-137. This entertainment . . . agent. This cordiality 156 NOTES. [act i. may wear the look of innocence ; its freedom may be the out- come of genuine friendship, of goodness of heart, that ever- teeming soil, and so be becoming to one who shows it. 139. Practic'd smiles, studied, not natural. 141. The mort o' the deer, a long-drawn breath like that drawn by the huntsman in sounding the horn at the death of the deer. 142. Nor my brows ! A reference to the belief that horns grew on the forehead of a man whose wife had been unfaith- ful to him; said to have arisen" out of the story of Action, who, spying Diana bathing, was punished by having horns grow out of his forehead. 145. I' fecks, supposed to be a corruption of in faith. 146. Why . . . bawcock. A burlesque term of endearment, probably from the Fr. beau cog, fine cock. 147. A copy out, an exact model of mine. Captain, a hu- morous term of affection. 148. Not neat, but cleanly. " Leontes, seeing his son's nose smutchM, cries, ive must be neat ; then recollecting that neat is an ancient term for hor?ied cattle, he says, not neat, but cleanly'''' (Johnson). 149. 150. And yet . . . neat. And yet the term is applicable to you, for it is given generically, not only to the bull and the cow, but also to the calf. Still Virginalling. " The virginals (probably so called because chiefly played upon by young girls), resembled in shape the ' square 1 pianoforte of the present day, as the harpsichord did the 'grand. 1 " (Chappell's Pop. Music of the Olden Times.') 151. Wanton calf, frolicsome, sportive. i54» J 55- Thou want'st . . . like me. " You tell me that you are like me ; that you are my calf. I am the horned bull : thou wantest the rozigk head and the horns of that animal, completely to resemDle your father " (Malone). ' Pash, the head. 158. As o'er-dy'd blacks. Three interpretations have been given : (1) mourning dyed too much and so becoming rotten ; (2) faded or damaged stuffs dyed black in order to hide their real condition; (3) black things painted with another color through which the ground will soon appear. The first of these three interpretations is probably the best. 159, 160. As dice . . . mine. As one who sets no boundary between what is his and what mine would wish the dice with which he played to be. Bourn, boundary, limit. 161. Sir page, like " sweet villain !" 162. Welkin, properly the sky, hence, here, sky-colored, blue. sc. ii.] NOTES, 157 163. Collop, properly a slice of meat and so a part of one's own flesh, as a wife in reference to her husband is said to be " bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh.'" 164-172. Affection . . . brows. The meaning probably is, Imagination, thy intensity pierces to the very center, goes to the very root of one's being ; thou makest that to be possible which no one could have believed to be so ; thou dost work in concert with dreams, strange as this may seem (" how can this be P' 1 ), art in league with what is unreal and dost link thy- self with what is non-existent: then, this being so, it is easy to believe that thou mayest co-operate with what has real exist- ence (here, the supposed guilt of his wife) ; and thou dost so even beyond all warrant, and I feel your influence to such a degree that my brain has become infected by thee, and I imagine my- self to be a cuckold. Credent for credible. 174. Something unsettled, somewhat disturbed in mind. 177, 178. You look . . . distraction, the look of your brow is that of a man much agitated. Mov'd, excited. 181-183. How sometimes . . . bosoms ! How sometimes natural affection will betray its weakness and make a man the laughing-stock of those less tender-hearted. 184. Recoil, go back in imagination. 185. Unbreech'd, without breeches, being too young for that article of dress. 186. Muzzled, with its sheath carefully fastened on so as to prevent its getting loose and so wounding me. 189. This kernel, this seed which will one day grow to the full fruit. 190. Squash, an immature peascod. 191. "Will you . . . money? "To take eggs for money" seems to have been used in two senses, (1) to allow oneself to be cajoled, (2) to put up with an affront. 193. Happy man be 's dole ! may happiness be his portion, that which is doled or dealt out to him by the fates. 197. My exercise, he is that which 'constantly occupies my attention. My mirth, my matter, the subject of my mirthtul and of my serious movements. 198. Now my sworn . . .enemy, at one moment the dear- est of friends, at the next my bitter foe (said of course play- fully to indicate his varying moods). 199. My parasite, one who fawns upon me for entertain- ment. 201. Varying childness, the varying moods of his young mind. Thick, thicken, curdle. 203-4. 1° squire and offie'd there is an allusion to the duties of an attendant upon a knight. 158 NOTES. [act i. 209. Apparent to my heart, the heir apparent being the person who, if he survive the ancestor, must be his heir, the term is here used as most nearly akin, closest, to his affections. 211, Shall 's, a not uncommon use in Shakespeare, who also has the converse we for us. 212, 213. To your own . . . sky. Occupy yourselves in any way you are inclined: "in the concluding- words there is the secondary meaning, " I shall detect your practices however secret you may be. 1 ' 213, 214. I 'm angling . . . line. lam only " playing" you as a fisherman plays a fish, letting out plenty of line, which the fish would quickly snap if it were drawn tight at once. 215. Go to, generally an exclamation of impatience or con- tempt. 216. Neb, according to Steevens, the mouth ; according to Dyce, the nose ; lit. the beak, bill of a bird. 218. Allowing, in the frequent Shakespearian sense of ap- proving. 220. Inch-thick . . . one ! " Inch-thick" and "knee-deep " are both expressive of excess. 220. A fork'd one, a cuckold. 229, 230. It is a . . . predominant : a reference to astrology, in which so-called science " predominant " is a technical term ; the star which rules these matters is a lustful one and will strike those born under it, do what they may. 238, 239. You'd . . . home. You had a great deal of trouble in persuading him: His anchor, the anchor by which you hoped to secure him: Still came home, a nautical metaphor, repeatedly failed to take hold of the bottom ; came away when a strain was put upon it. 241. At your petitions, at your demand. Made . . . mate- rial, represented his business at home as of more importance, more urgent. 244. They 're here with me already. " By ' they 're here -with me already, 1 the .King means, — the people are already mocking me with this opprobrious gesture (the cuckold's em- blem with their fingers), and whispering." etc. (Staunton). The cuckold^ emblem, to which Staunton refers, was the holding of the fingers in the form of a V. lb. Rounding. " The name Runic was so called from the term which was used by our barbarian ancestors to designate the mystery of alphabetic writing. This was Run, sing., Rune, pi. . . . This word Run signified mystery or secret ; and a verb of this root was in use down to "a comparatively recent date in English literature, as. an equivalent for the verb to whisper. ... It was also used of any kind of dis- course ; but mostly of private and privileged communication sc. ii.] NOTES. 159 in council or conference. . . . This roivn became roivnd and round on the principle of n attracting d to follow it. . . . (Earle, Phil, of the.Eng. Tongue, 93, 4). 245. "Siciliais a so-forth." " This was a phrase employed when the speaker wished to escape the utterance of an obnox- ious term. . . y (Steevens.) The obnoxious term here was of course " cuckold." - lb. T is far gone'. . . last : matters have come to a pretty- pass when they are so bad that no one dare speak of them to me. 250. Taken, conceived, taken in, by any clear-sighted per- sons besides yourself. 252, 253. For thy . . . blocks. Your conception (conceit) is one that quickly absorbs, imbibes, facts which for the com- mon herd would have no significance : blocks, wooden-headed fellows, blockheads, as we say ; the block on which hats were formed being a wooden model of the human head. 254. But of, except by the keener intelligences. By some severals . . . extraordinary ? by certain particular persons who have more brains than the ordinary person. 255. Lower messes, those who sat at the lower end of the table, below the great salt, or at tables where the charge was less ; hence people of inferior rank, and so of inferior intelli- gence. 266. Let that suffice, that is enough, I don't wish to hear more. 272. In that which seems so. He modifies his use of the word integrity by saying, " in thy integrity, or rather in that which seems so, but is not.' 1 274. To bide upon % " equivalent to ' my abiding opinion is' " (Dyce). 276. Which hoxes . » . behind, which lames honest action, prevents the course of straightforward action. Hough ox hock is the joint in the hind leg of a quadruped between the knee and fetlock, and hough, the verb, to cut the hamstring of a horse, has been corrupted into hox. Restraining, sc. it. 278. A servant . . . trust, one who though placed in so inti- mate relation with matters of importance that he ought to be- come, as it were, part and parcel of the,m, is yet negligent about them. 287. Puts forth, shoots out, as a bud, leaf, branch. 287-295. In your . . . wisest, to deal with all these charges, I would say, If ever I was obstinately negligent in your af- fairs, such negligence is to be put down to folly, not to inten- tional betrayal of your interests ; if ever, again, my folly was of a deliberate, persistent character, this was due to a want of. consideration of tU ~ be expected ; if, lastly, I ever 160 NOTES. [act i. hesitated through fear to^ do a thing the (successful) issue of which I doubted, anything the execution of which when done cried out against the non-performance of it before, the fear then shown by me was such as often infects even the very wisest of men. 299. By its own visage, in its own likeness, as it really was. 302. Eye-glass means here the retina of the eye. 307, 308. You can avoid confessing only by impudently de- claring that you have neither eyes nor ears nor thought. 310. Hobby-hores, a cant name for a wanton. lb. Say 't and justify 't, say that she is unchaste, and prove your assertion, as you can easily do. 312. Clouded so, her character so blackened. Without . . . taken, without taking immediate vengeance on the slanderer. 315, 316. Which to . . . true, to repeat which would be a sin as heinous as that of which you accuse her, even if your accusation were a true one. 321. Breaking honesty, virtue giving way. 324. Blind . . . web, one of the popular names for cataract, a film growing over the eye. 327. Bohemia, Polixenes. 338. A hovering temporizer, a mere time-server. 342. The running of one glass, the time which the sand in the hour-glass takes to run from one bulb into the other. 344, 345. Why he . . . neck. Steevens, whom Dyce follows, says that Polixenes wore her as he would have worn a medal of her, round his neck. 346. Bare eyes, etc., had, or owned, eyes that were as fully open to what concerned my honor as to their own advantages, they would do that which should put a stop to any further iniquities between Polixenes and Hermione. 350, 351. Whom I . . . worship, whom I have raised from lower degree and advanced to an honorable position. 354. A lasting wink, death. 355. Were cordial, would revive my spirits as a cordial, a drink given to stimulate the heart, would do. 360. Crack, flaw in her virtue. Dread, for whom I have such respectful awe. 361. So . . . honorable, who is of such supreme honor, the primary meaning of the word sovereign. lb. Malone's interpretation is as follows : " This refers to what Camillo has just said relative to the queen's chastity, ' I cannot . . . mistress.' Not believe it, replies Leontes; make that {i.e., Hermione's disloyalty) a subject of debate or discus- sion, and go rot ! Dost thou think I am such a fool as to tor- ment myself and to bring disgrace on me and my children without sufficient grounds !" sc. H.] NOTES. 161 364. So muddy, in the sense of troubled in mind ; unsettled continues the metaphor of water the bottom of which has been disturbed, and which has not had time to settle and clear itself. 368. To complete the meter of this line, Walker would insert vipers between nettles and tails : Steevens proposes "goads and thorns, nettles and tails." 371. Ripe moving, the most complete provocation to do so. 372. Blench, be so fitful, pass so weakly from one course to another. 374. 'Will fetch off, make away with him, i e., by poison. 377-379. And thereby . . . yours. And in order by so doing to close the malicious mouths of those who otherwise would spread all manner of malicious reports in, etc. 384. Clear, free from all appearance of suspicion. 385. Keep with, associate with. 391. Split'st thine own. Dost crack thine own by being only half loyal to me. 403. Nor brass, etc., no record of any kind. One, example. 405. To do 't . . . breakneck, to do it and to leave it undone are equally fatal to me. 406. Happy star . . . now ! May some good Providence care for my country. 409. To warp, to be twisted out of shape. Not speak ? would he not speak to me, referring to Folixenes' having passed him without a word as they met. 413. None rare, none of any unusual nature. 423. Do not. You must mean do not, not dare not. 424. Intelligent, communicative. 'T is thereabouts, that is, you must mean you dare not communicate to me what you know, for, etc. 427. Complexions, looks; Shakespeare uses the word in a wider sense than that it has nowadays. 430. Alter'd, rather in the way he is treated than in himself. 432. Distemper, state of perturbation. 436. Make me . . . basilisk. Do not represent me as having the eye of the basilisk ; a fabulous serpent whose look killed those on whom it fell. 438. Regard, look. 439-442. Thereto . . . gentle, in addition to that an accom- plished scholar, a qualification which lends as much ornament to our gentle birth as the noble names of our parents, by descent from whom we get the right to the title of gentlemen. Success = succession, here only. 445. Ignorant concealment, the secrecy of ignorance, igno- rant being used in a proleptic sense. 448-451. All the parts ... of mine, all the duties which hon- 1 62 NOTES. [act i. orable men acknowledge, among- which to grant this request of mine is not the least imperative. 45 2 i 453- What incidency . . . me, what falling of harm is slowly coming near me ? what danger is impending over me? 454. If to be, i.e., prevented. 457. Charg'd in honor, bound by that sense of honor to which you, an honorable man, have appealed. 460, 461. Or both . . . night! or both yourself and I may bid farewell to all hopes of life ; good night, in the sense of " fare- well for ever, 1 ' is frequent in Shakespeare. 463. I am . . . you. The construction is apparently a con- fusion between " I am appointed he who should murder you," and, "He appointed me to murder you." 468, 469. Or been an ... to 't, or been an instrument em- ployed to screw you up to the perpetration of the deed ; vice was not used in the restricted sense of more modern times, but might mean any kind of machinery. 471, 472. O, then . . .jelly, if such was the case, may the purest blood in my veins become curdled into a clotted mass. 473. His, Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Christ (the Best). 475, 476. That may . . . arrive, a stench so rank that my ap- proach would be offensive even to those whose sense of smell is dullest. 479-481. Swear . . . influences, " swear-over," a tmesis for 41 over-swear." Influence, one' of the technical terms of astrology. 486. The standing of, etc., accusative of duration of time. 487. How should . . . grow ? how is it possible that he should have come to entertain such a belief? 491. This trunk, my body. 492. Bear along impawn'd, carry off with you as a pledge of my fidelity. 493. Whisper to the business, prepare them for our de- parture by giving them instructions secretly. 494. At several . . . city, get them out of the city by different posterns so as to avoid notice. 497. By this discovery, by my having revealed this to you. Be not uncertain, do not waver. 499, 500. Which if . . . stand by, and if you should test my information by speaking to Leontes, I dare not stay to see the result. 501, 502. Thereon . '. . sworn, and whose death as a sequel to his conviction has been predetermined. 505, 506. Be pilot . . . mine, be my guide in this matter, and you shall ever have your abode near me. , 507. My hence departure, an inversion. 509. As she's rare, in proportion to her rare excellence. SC. I.] NOTES. 163 513. Profess'd to him, made professions of friendship. 515-517. Good expedition . . . suspicion. The meaning prob- ably is that given by Malone : " Good expedition befriend me by removing me from a place of danger, and comfort the queen by removing the object of her husband's jealousy ; the queen, who is the subject of his conversation, but without reason the object of his suspicion I" Part of his theme, Polixenes being the other part. 519. Bear'st my life off, get me away safe from this country. Avoid, depart, or perhaps separate. 522. To take the urgent hour, to seize the opportunity ybile there is yet time to do so. ACT II. Scene I. 5. I Tl none of you, I will have nothing to do with you. 11. Brows, eyebrows. 12. So that, provided that. 13. 14. But in a ... pen, arched like a bow, and delicately shaded as though drawn with a pen. 21. What wisdom . . . you ? said playfully ; what are these subjects you are so wisely discussing? 22. Am for you, am ready to play with you again. 30. You 're powerful at it, I know well how clever you are in frightening us with these goblins. 36. Give 't me . . . ear, whisper it to me. 39. Scour, hurry, scamper off. 41, 42. How blest . . . opinion! said ironically: "just cen- sure 1 ' and "true opinion" are identical in meaning, "cen- sure " in Elizabethan English more often having a colorless than a condemnatory sense. 43, 44. Alack, for . . . blest! that certainty I was so anxious to gain has now, when gained, turned out a curse. 44-47. There may . . . infected : A spider may be in the cup, and, so long as he knows nothing about it, a man may go away, having drunk, without absorbing any poison. 49. Cracks his gorge, retches with violence, as if he would split his throat. 50. Hefts, heavings, retchings. 53. All 's true . . . mistrusted : all my fears had only too good a foundation. 55. Discover'd, revealed to Polixenes. 164 NOTES. [act ii. 56. Remain a pinch'd thing, a thing pinch'd out of clouts, a puppet for them to move and actuate as they please. To finch was in Shakespeare^ day used in a stronger sense than it now has, e.g., 1 H. IV. i. 3. 229, " Save how to ga.ll and fznck this Bolingbroke." 60, 61. Which often . . .-command, which has often had the same efficacy as your express order. 64. Some signs of me, some marks of personal resemblance. 65. Too much blood in him, too large a share in his physi- cal constitution. 73. "With out-door form, external appearance. 74. Straight, forthwith, immediately. 79, 80. When you . . . honest. Before you have time to add to your commendations of her beauty your admiration of her character, you are interrupted by these marks of contempt in- voluntarily exhibited either in gesture or in words. 84. Most replenish'd, most complete. 85. He were . . . villain, his villany would become double what it was before. 87, 88. You have . . . Leontes. It is not I that have made a mistake, but you ; and your mistake is taking Polixenes for me. 89. A creature of thy place, one occupying your lofty posi- tion. 90. Barbarism, abstract for concrete, ill-bred people. 92, 93. And mannerly . . . beggar. And between the prince and the beggar make no such distinction as good manners dic- tate when speaking of them. 97, 98. What she . . . principal, what she ought to be ashamed of even if no one except her vile seducer were privy to that knowledge, and not we as well. 100. That vulgars . . . titles, whom the lower classes speak of in the coarsest language. 104, 105. That you . . . me ! That you have publicly de- clared me to be an adultress. Gentle my lord, for this trans- position see Abb. § 13. 106. To say, by saying. 109. In those . . . upon, in the matter of those proofs on which I rest my belief. no, in. The center . . . top. The earth, " as the supposed center of the world " (Schmidt), is not firm enough to bear the weight of a school-boy's top. 112. He who . . . speaks. " Far off guilty signifies guilty in a remote degree " (Johnson). But that, in merely speaking. 114. Aspect like, influence, predominant, a technical term in astrology. 118, 119. The want of . . . pities, and possibly this inability sc. I.J NOTES. 165 of mine to weep may have the effect of drying up the fountain of your pity. 120, 121. Which burns . . . drown, which burns with a fierceness that no flow of tears could quench. 122, 123. 'With thoughts . . . me, judge me with thoughts so tempered with mercy as your charitable disposition may dic- tate. 125. Shall I be heard ? Do you mean to obey my orders and carry her off to prison ? 126. Beseech . . . with me, I entreat your majesty to let my women-servants attend me to prison. 128. Good fools, my foolish but faithful servants. 131, 132. This action . . . grace, my going to prison has been permitted by God for the chastisement and purifying of my nature. 137. Your justice, what you conceive to be justice. 145-147. If it prove . . . with her, if Herrnione prove un- faithful, I^'ll never trust my wife out of my sight ; I "11 always go in couples with her ; and in that respect my house shall re- semble a stable where dogs are kept in pairs. 148. Than when . . . her, will not trust her beyond my sight and touch. 155. Some putter-on, some instigator who has an object in deceiving you. 161. Instruments, the fingers. 166. What ! . . . credit ? do you venture to say you do not believe me? 168. Upon this ground, in this matter. 170. Be blam'd . . . might, however men might blame you "for so hastily suspecting her. 173-175. Our . . . this, it is not that we as king exercise our prerogative of demanding your advice, but that out of our nat- ural goodness we impart this information, and our determina- tion in the matter. 181-183. And I wish . . . overture. Antigonus assenting says, It is so, and I only wish that in judging of her guilt or innocence you had been led by such a feeling to confine the matter to your own breast without disclosing it to any one else. 184. Art most . . . age, have become a dotard. 188-191. Which was . . . deed, which was a thing as palpa- ble as ever amounted to well-founded suspicion, suspicion that wanted for confirmation nothing but the actualsight. Ap- probation = proof, frequent in Shakespeare. 194. Wild, rash. 197. Of stuff'd sufficiency, " of abilities more than enough " (Johnson). 166 NOTES. [act ii. 198. Will bring all, everything that is necessary. Had, being received. 204. 'Whose . . . truth, who from ignorant credulity is not able to arrive at the truth. 206. From our free person, we have decided that she should be shut up where she cannot approach us who are ac- cessible to all. 207, 208. Lest that . . . perform. For fear that she may have been left behind to carryMnto execution the treachery planned by Polixenes and Camillo. 210. Raise us, excite us, cause a commotion among us ; yes, says Antigonus, aside, ,a commotion of laughter, if the real truth were known. Scene II. 1. Call to him, summon him. 8. For, as being. 14- 16. Here 's ado . . . visitors | A pretty fuss you are mak- ing in your conscientious anxiety to prevent Hermione from seeing me ! 26, 27. Here 's such . . . coloring. Your endeavor to make that appear a stain which is not really so is beyond all excuse ; a pun upon the word color in its literal sense. Passes = sur- passes, exceeds ; frequent in Shakespeare. 30, 31. As well as . . . together. As well as it is possible for one so great to be while in such miserable circumstances. To hold together, to exist without falling to pieces. On, upon, in consequence of. 32. Which . . . greater, than which no delicate lady like her has ever borne greater. 33. Something, somewhat. 36. Lusty, strong and likely to live. The queen ... in 't, we should now say either " finds much comfort in it," or " re- ceives much comfort from it." 39. I dare be sworn, of that I am certain. 40. These . . . them ! Curses on these mad freaks of the king ! Lunes, a Fr. word borrowed by Shakespeare, and ap- parently peculiar to him. 43-45. If I . . . more. If I do not upbraid him soundly, may my tongue never again serve me to express my anger. Red- look'd anger, anger manifested by a heightened color. 46. Commend . . . queen. Give my commendation to her, or, Say that I commend myself to her, meaning that I commit sc. in.] NOTES. 167 and recommend myself to her affectionate remembrance. At the same time, in considering the question of the origin and proper meaning of the English phrase, the custom of what was called Commendation in the Feudal System is not to be overlooked : the vassal was said to commend himself to the person whom he selected for his lord. 55. Free undertaking, spontaneous Miss, fail to meet with. 58. Presently, at once. 60. Hammer 'd . . . design, was trying to shape out some such plan. 61. Minister of honor, any person of high position about the court. Scene III. 2. To bear . . . thus, to submit to be tortured in this way without making any effort to avenge myself. 4, Harlot, orig. used of either sex indifferently ; in fact, more commonly of men in Mid. Eng. It has not either a very bad sense, and means little more than " fellow." 5, 6. Out of . . . brain, beyond the ?im of any attempt that I can make against him. Blank and level are terms of archery. Plot-proof, as we say " j/W-proof," I.e., proof against shot. 6, 7. But she . . . me, but her (as we should say) I can get hold of, though I cannot reach him. Say that, suppose that, etc. A moiety, Lat. medietas, but here, used loosely for h part, not the precise half. 16. Threw off, at once lost his former good spirits. 19. Solely, alone. 20. Him, Polixenes. 30. Be second to me, second me in my efforts instead of hindering me. 33. Free, innocent, pure. 34. That' s enough, enough and more than enough, for he is absurdly jealous. 46, 47. Needful . . . highness, " gossips 11 here in the sense of sponsors at baptism. For your highness, i.e., who are to act as sponsors at the baptism of your newly-born child. 56. In this matter, unless he imitate you in committing his wife to prison for doing what is honorable, be sure he shall not restrain me. Com7nit and committing are used in two different senses, and in the latter case the sarcasm consists in applying to the word honor a term which is properly applied to what is dishonorable, sinful, criminal. 168 NOTES. [act ii. 60-62. La you now . . . stumble, you see she does not hesi- tate to scold even your highness : when once she takes the bit between her teeth, I never try to rein her in ; but, unlike other jades, she will not stumble when thus given the rein. 66-68. Yet that dare . . . yours, a counselor, and yet one" who in the matter of encouraging your ailments dares to ap- pear less loyal than some of those who make the greatest pro- fessions of loyalty. 73, 74. And would . . .you, and would by combat in the lists establish her innocence, if I were a man, even the weak- est in your court. To make good a thing, to establish or maintain it. - 76, 77. Let him . . . me, let him who cares nothing about his eyes be the first to lay hands upon me, for assuredly I will scratch them out of his face. 82. A mankind witch. The epithet mankind was applied even to beasts in the sense of '■'■ferocious.'''' 87, 88. Which . . . honest. And if I am as honest as you are mad, I shall easily pass muster for honesty among people of the present day, for there can be little question as to your madness. 91, 92. Thou art . . . here. Thou art henpecked, and driven from thy roost by this noisy mate of thine. " Part let is the name of the hen in the old story-book of Reynard the Fox'''' (Steevens). 94-97. For ever . . . upon 't ! For ever accursed be your hands if you venture to take up by the name of bastard the princess upon whom he has sought to fix that stigma. 103. Nor I, nor any, etc. The only traitor here is himself, for he has been untrue to himself, his queen, his son, his daughter, in casting a slur upon them that pierces more deeply than the thrust of a sword. 107-110. And will not . . . opinion, and will not of his own accord, and it is impossible to compel him. Remove the root of his opinion, is equivalent to " root out his opinion. 1 " 112. Callat, a drab, a jade, etc. 119. And, might we, etc. And if we might apply the old proverb to you, we should say, In being like you it is all the worse. 121. Print, type ; matter and copy are also technical terms here. 123. The trick of 's frown, the peculiar form of his frown. 128. The ordering of the mind, the regulating of its com- plexion, character. Yellow, the color of jealousy. 129, 130. Lest she. . . husband's. The expression is merely a general way of praying that she may not, when grown to womanhood, have a mind diseased with jealousy asLeontes' is. sc. i.] NOTES. 169 132. Lozel. An idle, loose fellow, a runagate. . . . Lozel is from A. S. losian, to be lost, to run away. 138) 139- A most . . . more. No husband, however bad, can do more, be more tyrannical. 155. 'What needs. There is no need of your being so offi- cious in pushing me out. 181. This purpose, of throwing the babe into the fire. 184. I am . . .blows : I am, it seems, in your opinions, like a feather to be blown here and there by every wind ; said with the ironical contempt of one who believes strongly in his own firmness, though he immediately afterwards justifies by his vacillation the very opinion at which he is sneering. 188. It shall . . . neither, and yet it shall not. 190. With Lady . . . there. Margery, as a homely name, is applied contemptuously to Paulina, who is also in the same spirit called not Antigonus' wife but his midwife, with refer- ence to her anxiety to save the life of the babe. 195. May undergo . . . impose, anything that I am capable of undertaking, and that you may honorably enjoin upon me. 199. By this sword ; the handle of the sword being in the form of a cross, it was customary to swear by it. 204. Lewd-tongu'd, scurrilous, foul-mouthed. On the his- tory of the word lewd see Skeat, Ety. Diet. 206. Liege-man, " faithful, subject, true, bound by feudal tenure" (Skeat, Ety. Diet.). 218, 219. Kites and ravens . . . wolves and bears, in the former expression there is probably a relerence to Elijah's be- ing fed by ravens (see Kings, xvii. 4, 6), in the latter to Romu- lus and Remus suckled by wolves. 221, 222. Sir, be . . . require, to a greater extent than this deed deserves. A sort of farewell, as though Antigonus knew that he was never to see the king again. 230. Well, safely. 233. Beyond account, such as has never been known before. 236, 237. Will have . . . appear, has determined in his di- vine will that the truth shall quickly be made known. 243. Think . . . bidding. Take care that it is performed. ACT III. Scene I. 2. Isle, Shakespeare may or may not have known his geog- raphy better, but he takes the "Isle of Delphos" from Greene's Novel. 170 NOTES. [act in. 5. For most it caught me, for that was what most at- tracted my attention. It comprehends the dresses and the manner in which they were worn by the priests. 9. I' the offering, when being offered. 13. That I was nothing, that I was utterly bewildered. 17. The time . . . on 't. . If the event prove fortunate to the queen, the time which wehave spent in our journey is worth the trouble it hath cost us. 19. These proclamations, from the Novel (quoted by De- lius), " He therefore caused a generall proclamation to .be made," etc. 22, 23. The violent . . . business. The headstrong manner in which Leontes has proceeded will clear up all doubts, or at all events will settle the matter once for all. 24-26. Thus, he touches or points to the sealed packet con- taining the oracle : divine, priest : discover, reveal : some- thing rare . . . knowledge, some unexpected and important disclosure will suddenly burst upon us. Scene II. 4, 5. Let us . . . tyrannous, the fact that we proceed with such open justice ought to free us from the charge of being ty- rannical. 18. The pretense, the design, intention. 23. Am to say ; have to say. 27-29. Mine integrity . . . receiv'd. That is, my virtue be- ing accounted wickedness, my assertion of it will pass but for a lie. 29. But thus, but as I have to speak, this is what I say. 33. Patience, endurance such as mine. 34. Who least ... do so, and yet you are least willing to own to such knowledge. 36. "Which is more, my misery. Can pattern, can parallel, give an example of. 38. To take, so constructed as to interest greatly. 39. Fellow, sharer. Owe = own, as frequently in Eliza- bethan English. 43, 44. For life . . . spare, as for life, I regard it exactly as I regard grief, as a thing which I would gladly get rid of. 44, 45. For honor . . . tor, as regards honor, it is a heritage from me to my children, and it is for this only, as being a mat- ter of importance, that I fight. 50, 51. With what . . . thus. Staunton paraphrases, " By what unwarrantable familiarity have I lapsed, that I should be made to stand as a public criminal thus." sc. ii.] NOTES. 171 51-53. If one jot . . . inclining, if I have lapsed (strain'd) a hair's breadth beyond the limit of virtue, inclining- towards that excess either in act or intention. 56-59. I ne'er heard . . . first. I never heard that any of these bolder vices {i.e., the perpetrators of them) lacked shame- lessness in denying- their deeds equal to that shown in commit- ting them. 61. Due to me, applicable to me. 63-65. More than . . . acknowledge. To Leontes' taunt that the saying does apply to her, only she will not admit it, Her- mione replies, " It is not for me to acknowledge myself possess- or of more than belongs to me under the title of fault ; to these ' bolder vices ' I have no claim." Comes to me, by inheritance from our first parents. 71. Had been, would have been. 72. Disobedience, referring to him, ingratitude to his friend. 75-77. Now. . . how. As for conspiracy, I am an utter stranger to its taste ; I should not know that conspiracy was conspiracy even if I were brought into close contact with it. 80. Wotting no more, i.e., if they know no more. 85. Stands in . . . dreams ; not exactly -within the reach, as Johnson says, but in a direct line with, and so in danger of be- ing hit. 89. But dream'd it, merely dreamed it ; with grim irony. 91. Which . . . avails. To deny which may be a matter of importance to you, but will have no effect upon me. 92. Like to itself, with the disgrace that properly belongs to it. 95. In whose . . . passage, in the most merciful administra- tion of which you need not expect anything less than death. 99. Commodity, gain, advantage, as frequent in Shake- speare. 101. I do . . . lost, I regard as lost. 105. Starr'd . . . unluckily, born under a most unlucky star. 107. Every post, every public notice-board. 108-110. With immodest . . . fashion, with immoderate malice refused those privileges which are allowed to women of all ranks when in child-birth. 112. Strength of limit, the limited degree of strength custom- ary for women to acquire before going abroad after child-bear- ing. 116-120. But for . . . law. But as regards my honor, which I am anxious to free from stain, I tell you that if it shall turn out that I be condemned with no other proofs than those which your jealous fancies call into being, such condemnation is mere vengeful harshness and not law. 154. To report it, for reporting it. 172 NOTES. [act in. x 55» J 56. With mere . . . speed, at the mere idea and fear of the queen's evil plight; the old sense of sfleed was "help'' " success, 1 ' but like the latter word it was often qualified by "good," " evil.'" etc. 164. Her heart . . . o'ercharged: it is merely excess of emotion that has caused her to faint. 175. For the minister, as the agent. 177, 178. Tardied . . . command, delayed the execution of the command which I desire to be so swiftly carried out. 182. Unclasp'd my practice, revealed my plot. 185. No richer . . . honor; having no other possession than his honor. 189. My lace, the lacing of her stays. 194. In leads or oils, cauldrons of molten lead or boiling oil. 198. Fancies ... nine, in opposition to "jealousies"; fancies so baseless that even a boy would be ashamed to enter- tain them, nay, even girls of nine would regard them as absurd and childish. 201. Spices of it, slight tastes of it, your jealousy. 203. That did .. . ungrateful. Johnson explains this, "It showed thee first a fool, then inconstant and ungrateful." 205. Thou wouldst . . . king. You wished to taint Camillo's honor in order that he might not hesitate to kill a king. 209, 210. Though . . . done "t : though even a devil in the midst of the fire would have shed tears ere he would have done such a deed. 216. Laid to thy answer; brought against you as a crime for which you will have to answer. 217. When I have said, when I have spoken that which I have to speak. 219. Not . . . yet, as we might have expected. Forbid, that she should be dead. 223, Tincture . . . eye, color in her lip or brightness in her eye. 229. Ten . . . together, during the space of, etc. Naked, fast- ing, though these knees that knelt were bare, and though the suppliants to whom they belonged were fasting all the time. 230, 231. And still . . . perpetual, and though it were ever winter, and winter in a state of perpetual storm. 232. To look . . . wert. Even to turn their eyes in your direction, much less to pardon you. 238. Howe'er ... speech. Whatever may be the result, you are to blame for speaking so bitterly. 252. Take your . . . nothing. Arm yourself with patience, and you shall hear no more reproaches from me. 254-256. Thou didst . . . thee. You spoke nothing but what sc. ill.] NOTES, 173 was well when most plainly you spoke out the truth ; and such plain speaking I can better brook than to be pitied by you. 260. Our, speaking as a king. Scene III. 1. Perfect, certain, well assured. 12. Loud weather, stormy, boisterous. 14. Keep, dwell. 30. Became . . . spouts, burst forth in torrents of tears. The fury spent, her passionate outbreak being over. 32. Better disposition, in opposition to the natural bent of your kindly nature. 36. For the babe, since the babe is. For weep Dyce would read wend. . 37. Perdita, lost one. ^ 39. Put on, enjoined thee. 43-45. Dreams . . . this. Dreams are mere empty nothings, and yet for this once I will allow my belief to be shaped, guided by this one. Superstitiously, most religiously. 50. Right, true. Blossom, fair floweret. 51. Character, that which marks what you are — the writing afterwards discovered with Perdita. 52. 53. Which may . . . thine. This (the bundle containing clothes and money which he lays down beside her) may serve for your maintenance and ever remain with you (possibly as marks of identification). 60. A savage clamor, of the dogs and hunters pursuing the bear. 61. "Well . . . aboard ! May I get safely aboard ! The chase, that which they are pursuing, the quarry. 63-65. I would . . . rest. I wish there were no age between mere boyishness (ten years) and years of discretion (three and twenty), or that youths would sleep out the interval. 65. In the between, in the intervening years. The an- cientry, the old folk, himself to wit. 67. Any but these . . . brains, any but such addle-pated, scatter-brained youths. 71. If anywhere I have them, if I am likely to find them anywhere, it will be by the seaside feeding upon the ivy bushes. 74. Barne, another spelling of bairn, child. A boy or a child, " I am told that, in some of our inland counties, a female infant, in contradistinction to a male, one, is still termed, among the peasantry, — a child " (Steevens). 174 NOTES. [act iv. 81. When thou art . . . rotten, not merely during your life, but even after death, so wonderful is it. 95. For the land-service, for what happened on shore. 99. Flap-dragoned it, swallowed it as gallants in their revels swallow a flap-dragon. 118. A bearing-cloth, the cloth or mantle in which the child was usually borne to the font at baptism. Squire's child, one of high degree. 121. Changeling, a child left hy the fairies in the place of one they had carried off. One of the foremost dangers sup- posed to hover round the new-born infant was the propensity of witches and fairies to steal the most beautiful and well- favored children, and to leave in their places such as were ugly and stupid. 123. A made old man, one whose fortune is made. 124. You 're well to live, you have a happy life before you. 128. The next way, the nearest way. 134. Curst, savage. 136. Mayest discern, canst discover. 138. To the sight of him, to see him. 139. Marry, a corruption of " by Mary," the Virgin Mary, for the sake of evading the statute against profane swearing. ACT IV. Prologue, 4. To use my wings, to fly over a wide space of years. 9-11. Let me pass . . . receiv'd. Receive me for the same that I was even before the most ancient order of things, or that which is now accepted among mankind. 12. Them, the ancient order of things. 13. Reigning, in vogue, in fashion. 14. The glistering . . . present, the brand-new gloss of the present time. 15. Now seems, i.e., stale. 16. 17. And give . . . between, and represent to you such an altered state of things that you might imagine you had slept through the interval which must have elapsed. 25. Equal with wondering, so as to be the matter for wonder. 26. I list not, I do not care to, etc. 28. And what . . . adheres, all that belongs to her, every- thing in her history. 29. Argument, subject. Allow, approve, accept favorably. sc. ii.] NOTES. 175 Scene I. 2. 'T is a sickness . . . this. It is pain enough to deny you anything, but it will be much worse to grant this request of yours. 9. Or I o'erween . . . so, if it is not presumption in me to think so. Which, i.e., the belief that I might be able to lighten his sorrow. 19. Considered, in the way of reward. 21, 22. My profit . . . friendships. I will for the future be more liberal of recompense ; as I confer favors on thee I shall increase the friendship between us. 23-25. Whose very . . . penitent, for the very mention of it brings me bitter pain in the remembrance of, etc. 30. Gracious, when the conduct of their children is not such as they can view with satisfaction. 31. Approved, proved. 37. Frequent to, addicted to, given to. 44-46. That from . . . .estate. Who from the humblest position in lite, and to the utter astonishment of his neighbors, has grown to very great wealth. 55. Question, conversation. 59. The thoughts of Sicilia, of going there. Scene II. Stage Direction. Autolycus "was the son of Mercury, and as famous for all arts of fraud and thievery as his father" (Steevens). 2. Doxy, the female companion of a tramp or beggar. 4. For the red . . . pale. The red biood of spring reigns in the place of the pale blood of winter. 7. Doth set . . . edge ; probably means sharpens my inclina- tion to steal ; pugging, generally explained as " thieving.' 1 9. Tirra-lirra, an imitation of the notes of the lark. 14. Three-pile, three-piled velvet, velvet of the richest and costliest kind. 16-18. By the light of the pale moon I am able to carry on my petty thefts, and when I wander here and there (i.e., seem to be going wrong, to have lost my way), I am then going in what is the right path _/£>?■ me, i.e., I am most successful in my thieving. 19—22. If tinkers ... it. If such fellows as tinkers are allowed to live and to wander about the country carrying with them their leathern sack, then there is no reason why I should 176 NOTES. [act iv. not give an account of my occupation, or openly avow it when put in the stocks. 23. My traffic . . . linen." When I am on the tramp, people may expect to have their sheets stolen, just as when the kite is building they may expect to have odd pieces of linen carried off if left on the drying lines after washing, or exposed any- where in the open air. He is the human kite that carries off anything that comes in his way. 25. Littered under Mercury, born when the planet Mercury was in the ascendant ; he applies to himself the term {littered) which is technically used of puppies, and the young of wild beasts. 27-30. Gallows . . . thought of it. "The resistance which a highwayman encounters in the fact, and the punishment which he suffers on detection, withhold me from daring rob- bery' 1 (Johnson); as for the future life, I don't allow any thoughts of it to trouble me. 31. Every 'leven . . . tods. This has been rightly ex- pounded to mean that the wool of eleven sheep would weigh a tod, or 28 lb. Each fleece would, therefore, be 2 lb. 8 oz. w\ dr. 34. If the springe . . . mind. If my device does not fail, I shall catch this fellow. 36. Counters, small circular pieces of metal formerly used by the uneducated in all but the simplest calculations. 38. Five pound, in cases of .time, distance, or weight, many substantives in A. S. in Shakespeare, and even with us, have the same form in the plural as in the singular. 42. Three-man song-men, singers of catches in three parts. 44. Means, " The mean in music was the intermediate pare between the tenor and the treble. Chappell's Pop. Mus. 0/ the Olden Time'''' (Dyce, Gloss.). 47. Warden pies. Steevens says, " Wardens are a species of large pears . . . usually eaten roasted. 1 ' 48. That 's out of my note, that is not mentioned in the memorandum she gave me. lb. Race, root. Raisins of the sun, dried in the sun. 60. A million . . . matter, when you come to reckon it, a million of beating amounts to a good deal ; an adage worthy of Dogberry. 67. He should be a footman, used in the contemptuous sense of a menial. 69. It hath . . . service, it must have belonged to one who had seen very hot service in the wars. 75. Kills my heart, utterly crushes me. 90. Troll-my-dames. " The old English title of this game was pigeon-holes ; as the arches in the machine through which sc. in.] NOTES. 177 the balls are rolled resemble the cavities made for pigeons in a dove -house' 1 '' (Steevens). 96. And yet . . . abide. " Equivalent to — And yet it will barely, or with difficulty remain" (Staunton). 99. Ape-bearer, one who goes about exhibiting monkeys. 100. Compassed . . . Son, managed to set up a puppet show representing- the story of the Prodigal Son in the New Testa- ment. Motion, so called because the puppets were moved about at the will of the exhibitor. 102. Land and living, land and property. 103. Having flown over, having lightly passed over with- out remaining in any of them for more than a short time. 106. Out upon him ! shame upon him. Prig, thief. 107. Wakes. In days gone by, the church-wake was an im- portant institution, and was made the occasion for a thorough holiday. Each church, when consecrated, was dedicated to a saint, and on the anniversary of that day was kept the wake. 114. 1 am false . . . way, my heart fails me in any matter of that kind. 120. Bring thee on the way, conduct you. 126. I '11 be with you, you '11 find me there plying my trade of pick-pocket. 127. Cheat, piece of roguery. Bring out, lead up to, be the introduction to. 128. Unrolled, struck off the roll of vagabonds, as though it were an honorable fraternity such as the Inns of Court, or the various trade guilds. 131. Hent, take, in the sense of leaping over. Scene III. I. Weeds, dress. 7. Your extremes, the extravagance of his conduct in ob- scuring himself in " a swain's wearing, 1 ' while he " pranked " her up " most goddess-like." 9. The gracious . . . land, "The object of all men's notice- and expectation' 1 '' (Johnson). 10. Wearing, dress. II. Prank'd up, decked out in a fanciful manner. 11-13. But that . . . custom, if it were not that at each of the tables at our feasts some foolish jests and practices prevail,, which the feasters justify on the ground that such things are: customary, I should blush, etc. 19. Cause, to bless the time, not to regret it. 178 NOTES. [act iv. 20, 21. To me . . . fear. To me the terrible difference of rank that there is between us causes fear. 26. Borrow'd flaunts, borrowed finery. 30. Humbling . . . love, divesting themselves of their divin- ity when under the power of love. 47. Forc'd thoughts, far-fetched. 48, 49. Or I '11 . . . father's. If I may be your husband, I will be my father's son ; if not, not. 53. Strangle . . . while. Let the sights around you choke, kill, all such thoughts in your mind. 55. Lift . . . countenance, look up cheerfully. 62. And let 's . . . mirth. Let us enjoy ourselves till our cheeks become flushed with merriment. 64. Pantler, the manager of the pantry, just a^ Sutler is one who attends to bottles. 65. Dame, hostess, lady of the feast. 68. On his . . . his, dancing first with one partner and then with another. 69. The thing ... it, ale or beer, of which she would drink a small draught to each of her guests. 70. 71. You are . . . one, you keep yourself in the back- ground as though you were a guest instead of the hostess. 72. Bid . . . welcome, bid welcome to, make welcome, these unknown friends. 78. As your . . . prosper, as you hope that your flocks may increase and multiply. 83. Rosemary and rue. Rosemary was in high favor for its evergreen leaves, and its fine aromatic scent remaining a long time after picking. Rue was valued chiefly for its healing properties. 92. Trembling winter, the epithet is a transferred one, and applies to the effect produced by winter. 94. Nature's bastards, because of their pied color. 99. For I have heard, etc. Because I have heard, etc. Perdita objects to the gilly-flower because being a cross be- tween the white and the red, it is not a pure flower. The art is simply the transmission of the pollen from one flower to an- other of different color ; which may either be done by the hand of man, or by nature, by means of the air, and by bees. There we have the whole theory of grafting clearly put by the pen of experience. 104. But nature . . . mean ; except, unless, nature, etc. 108, 109. And make . . . race, and cause a tree of inferior kind to conceive, become pregnant, by a bud of nobler stock ; dark, part for the whole, but with an allusion to the process of grafting by cutting into the bark. 115. I '11 not put, etc. I have no more wish for such flowers sc. in.] . NOTES. 179 than I have that I should be admired by this youth if I had painted my face ; and therefore I will take no means to rear them. 116. Dibble, garden tool for making holes in the ground. 120. Hot lavender, strongly smelling. 121, 122. The marigold . . . weeping ; that closes its petals when the sun goes down, and opens them, wet with dew, as he rises ; " compounded of Mary and gold. 131. Become . . . day, be suitable to your age ; she is ad- dressing a young girl. i34i I 3S- For the flowers . . . wagon ! Would that I had the flowers, etc. 136. Take, captivate, conquer. 137. Violets dim, dim serving to subordinate the colors to the perfume, and perhaps meaning " half -hidden from the eye," retiring, modest. 138. 139. But sweeter . . . breath. Mason points out that " as Shakespeare joins in the comparison the breath of Cythe- rea with the eyelids of Juno, it is evident that he does not al- lude to the color, but to the fragrance, of violets. 11 139-141. Pale primroses . . . strength. " The English Prim- rose is one of a large family of more than fifty species, repre- sented in England by the Primrose, the Oxlip, the Cowslip, and the Bird's-eye Primrose of the north of England and Scot- land 1 ' (Ellacombe, P. L.). That die, etc., i.e., before the sun acquires its full strength in the month of June. 142. Bold oxlips. "... The oxlip has not a weak flexible stalk like the cowslip, but erects itself boldly in the face of the sun 11 (Steevens). Its scientific name is primula elatior. 143, 144. Lilies . . . one ! This shows that Shakespeare, like many other contemporary writers, classed the " flower-de-luce 11 among lilies, but the modern authorities seem to agree in pro nouncing it an iris. By some the word is said to be a corrup- tion oifleur de Louis, being spelt either fteur de-lys or fleur- de-lis. 150. Quick, alive. 152. Whitsun pastorals. " Apart from its observance as a religious festival, Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the Catholic times of England, it was usual to dramatize the descent of the Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates. For the history of the word Whitsunday , lit. White Sunday, see Skeat, Ety. Diet. 153. Does . . . disposition, the wearing of this robe has changed my nature and inspired me with ideas I never had before. 155. Still betters, ever improves. 158, 159. And for . . . too : in the arranging, disposing, oi 180 NOTES. [act iv. your affairs I could wish that your directions were given in song. 161. Still, ever. 162. And own . . . function, and give yourself no other oc- cupation. 162, 165. Each your . . . queens. Each movement of yours, every trait of manner, so unique of its kind, so individual to yourself, that all your acts are queens, sovereign in nature, supreme in excellence. 167. Large, liberal, exaggerated. 169. Give you out, shows you to be. 173, 174. As little ... to 't. As little reason to fear my in- tentions as I have purpose to compel you to that feeling (fear). 177. I '11 swear for 'em. I wiii answer for the constancy ol turtles like ourselves. 183, 184. That makes . . . cream. That causes the blood to flush up in her cheeks ; in plain truth she is the very queen of milk-maids. 186, 187. Marry . . . with ! you will need to fill your mouth with garlic to endure her breath when you kiss her. 188. Now, in good time ! used here by Mopsa in much in- dignation at Dorcas 1 unkind reflection upon her. 189. We stand . . . manners : we must have no quarreling now, we are bound to behave well. 193, 194. And boasts . . . feeding : and he declares that he owns a valuable tract of pasturage. But I have it ... it, I have it merely on his own report, yet I believe it. 196. Like sooth, like one who may well be believed. 197, 198. For never . . . eyes ; for never did the moon look down upon the water with a gaze so fixed and steadfast as his when he stands reading my daughter's soul through her eyes. 202. Featly, gracefully. 205. Do light upon her, manage to get her as his wife. 206. Which ... of, unexpected wealth ; though probably the old shepherd has a secondary reference to Perdita's being sprung of a nobler family than his own. 2ii. You '11 tell, you can count. As he had, as though he had. 214. He could . . . better, he could never come at a more opportune moment. 219. Of all sizes, as though he were talking of fitting a per- son with a garment, he goes on immediately to speak of a milliner fitting his customers with gloves. Milliner : in Shakespeare's time milliners were men ; the word is sup- posed to come from Miian, in Italy, famous in early days for its small wares, milliner signifying a seller of such wares. sc. in.] NOTES. 1S1 222. Dildos and fadings. The commentators quote songs in which " dildo' 1 is the burden, or refrain; and passages from Ben Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Shirley to show that a " fading " was an Irish jig. 223-225. And where . . . matter, and where some wide- mouthed (licentiously-spoken) fellow would try to break in with some indelicate jest, etc. " Gap " here means parenthesis, and is in keeping with " break into.' 1 228. Do me no harm. This was the name of an old song. Slights him, puts him off in a contemptuous manner. 229. Brave fellow, fine fellow. 230. Admirable conceited, a man of fine fancies, conceits. 231. Unbraided wares, various meanings have been given to the word, e.g., " anything besides laces which were braided,' 1 "wares not ornamented with braid, 1 ' "smooth and plain goods, not twisted into braids, 1 ' " things not braided but woven.' 1 233. Points, with a quibble upon the word in the sense of tags (used to fasten the hose or breeches to the doublet, but sometimes serving merely for ornament, like the '• frogs " on military uniforms in the present day), and legal points, knotty points of law. 235. By the gross, a gross is twelve score. Inkles, " a kind of inferior tape." Caddis, "worsted ribbon or galloon" (Dyce, Gloss.). 244, 245. You have . . . sister. You will find among these pedlers some that have more in them than you would expect. 245. Or go about to think, or take the trouble to imagine. 248. Cyprus, " a fine transparent stuff, similar to crape, either white or black, but more commonly the latter." 249. Gloves . . . roses. Presents of scented gloves were common in eld days. 251. Bugle bracelet, made of bugles, elongated heads of black or colored glass ; they may be seen nowadays in great profusion on ladies' dresses, shoes, bonnets, etc. Id. Necklace amber, amber beads for necklaces, another modern fashion. 253. Quoifs and stomachers, the former are caps, the latter, decorations of the lower pant of the " body " of a lady's dress ending in a point. Golden here means ornamented with gold. 255. Poking sticks, made of steel, iron, or brass, were used when heated to iron cut the plaits in ruffs, frills, etc. 260-262. But being . . . gloves, but being thus a bond slave to love, my condition will also involve my bringing into bond- age, taking captive (buying) certain, etc. 263. Against this feast, in anticipation of, in preparation for. 182 NOTES. [act iv. 270, 271. Will they wear . . . faces ? Will they openly show- to strangers what they ought to keep for their friends ? 272. Kiln-hole. Skeat (Ety. Diet.) explains "kiln 1 ' as a large oven for drying corn, bricks, etc. ; . . . from " A. S. cyln, a drying house. . . . Merely borrowed from Latin culina, kitchen ; whence the sense was easily transferred to that of 'drying-house. 1 " 274. 'T is well . . . whispering, it is a good thing that they are too much engaged in discussing their own affairs to hear these recriminations of yours. 276. Clammer your tongues. Mr. Joseph Crosby writes to Mr. Henry Hudson : It [clammer] is a pure North-of-England provincialism. The original word clam or clamm means to choke, to stick or fasten togetner. I have heard the expres- sion, The mill is clammed, i.e., stopped, because the race, the stream of water driving it, is choked up. 278. A tawdry lace, " tawdry " is a corruption of St. Awdry, which again is a corruption of Ethelreda; and a " tawdry lace," i.e., necklace, was so called as being bought at St. Aw- dry's fair. 286. Parcels of charge, valuable parcels. 289. O' life, on my life, by my life. 292. Carbonadoed, cut into slices and broiled. 298. Anon, immediately ; A. S. on an, on in the sense of 11 and an old form of one. 316. "Westward, in the west country, the west of England, for Shakespeare is thinking of his own country and its customs. 328. Grange. Granges were the chief farm-houses of wealthy proprietors. 334. We '11 have this song out, will sing it right through. 335. In sad talk, serious, as frequent in Shakespeare. 349. Utters, a legal term for " sells by retail." 350. Is, on the singular form for the plural at the beginning- of a sentence, see Abb. § 335. 353. Saltiers, the clown's corruption of satyrs. 354. Gallimaufry, " a strange medley, a confused jumble, a hotch-potch " (Fr. gallimafree) (Dyce, Gloss.). 358. That know . . . bowling, to over-refined persons ; an allusion to the smooth lawns on which bowls were played. 362. You weary ... us ; the actors whom the old shepherd is hindering from performing their pastoral play. 365-367. Not the worst . . . squier. And even the least agile of the three can jump twelve feet and a half by the measure ; squier, rule or measure, Fr. esquierre. 372. O, father . . . hereafter. You '11 hear more about this sc. in.] NOTES. 183 matter, the intimacy between Perdita and Florizel, hereaf- ter. 374. Tells much, speaks out his whole mind. 381. Marted, bargained for. 382. Interpretation should abuse, if she should be inclined to put a wrong interpretation upon your conduct in not offer- ing her any presents. 383. You were straited, you would be placed in a difficulty how to answer her. 384. 385. If you make . . . her. At least if you attach im- portance to making her happy. 396. What follows this ? To what declaration is this a pre- lude ? 398. The hand was, etc., on the omission of the relative, see Abb. § 244. 406. Thereof most worthy, and most worthy of being so crowned. 407. That ever , . . swerve. That ever caused women to turn their eyes to look at him. 409. For her employ, would employ. 418. By the pattern . . . his. By the unsullied nature of my own thoughts I estimate his. 425. O, that . . . daughter. If her portion is to be equal to mine, it can only be so by reason of her great virtue, for. in the matter of worldly wealth, I shall, when one (my father) is dead, have more than you can even dream of now. 428. Contract . . . witnesses. The ceremony of betrothal apparently was as a rule performed in the presence of a priest, but from this passage it seems to have been valid if witnesses of any kind were present. 433. But what of him ? What has he to do with the mat- 439, 440. Incapable . . . affairs, incapable of taking part in matters in which reason and judgment are required. 441. Altering rheums, rheumatic affections which have changed and disabled him. 442. Dispute . . . estate, reason upon his own affairs. 443. Lies he not bed-rid. " A.S. bed, a bed, and ridda, a knight, a rider ; thus the sense is a bed-rider, a sarcastic term for a disabled man " (Skeat, Ety. Diet.). 450. Reason . . . wife, it is reasonable that my son, etc. 453. Should . . . counsel, should be called in to give his ad- vice in the matter. 457. I not acquaint, I do not choose to tell him. 460, 464. He shall not . . . choice, he will not have any rea- son to regret the choice you have made. 468. I dare not call, I am ashamed to call. 470. That thus . . . sheep-hook ! That desirest to marry the 1 84 NOTES. [act iv. daughter of a shepherd ; sheep-hook, the crook carried by shep- herds to extricate sheep when they get into a place from which without help they cannot get out ; the emblem of his occupation for the man himself. 472. One week, but a very short time, he being already so near death. 472,473. Fresh . . . witchcraft, opposed to "old traitor"; you so young and fair, and yet so full of trickery ; witchcraft has here the double sense of that which is enchanting, be- witching, and that which exercises the evil influence ascribed to witches. 474. Thou copest with, have to do with, deal with. 482. Far than, I will not admit that you are so far akin as to be sprung from the common ancestors of all mankind. Skeat points out that the forms farther and farthest are due to confusion with further and furthest, the comparative and superlative of fore. Shakespeare uses this contracted form (far) of the comparative as he uses " near " for '"nearer. 1 ' 485. From the dead . . . it, deadly, if the reading is sound, but " dread " would be more like Shakespeare. Enchantment, personified. 486, 488. Yea, him too . . . thee, yea, worthy too of him who (if the honor of my family were not concerned therein) shows himself unworthy of you. 492. As thou ... to 't, as thou art unfit from your tender age to suffer such a fate. 499. I told you . . . this ; what would be the result of our love-making. 501. I '11 queen . . . farther, I '11 play the part of queen not a moment longe" on it indefinite see Abb. § 226. 513, 514. Anc "ould'st . . . him. And still, in spite of that knowledge, dared to plight your faith to him. 518. Delay'd, hindered for a time from carrying out my pur- pose. 520. More straining . . . unwillingly. Like a greyhound that has caught sight of the hare but is held back by the game- keeper, I only struggle the harder to get free from the leash. 534. But till . . . known ! Only till it became known what our relations to each other were. 535. But by . . . faith ; except by my breaking my promise. 540. I am heir . . . affection. All the inheritance I covet is that of my love. 542. Fancy, love, as frequent in Shakespeare. 547. But it does . . . vow : Staunton says that as is to be un- derstood between but and it. 551. Close earth, secret, as if unwilling to give up her treasures. sc. ill.] NOTES. 185 556. Cast your, "etc., so as to allay his passion. The idea is that of casting oil on the troubled waters. 558. Tug, one against the other. 564,565. Shall nothing . . . reporting. It will not do you any good to know, nor do I care to tell you. 573. To serve my turn, to suit my own purposes. 575. Purchase, as being something of great value to him. 579. Fraught, laden with, burdened with, like a ship with its cargo on board,. Curious, needing all care. 1 582,583. You have . ... father ? He is referring rather to his helping Polixenes to escape from Sicily than to services ren- dered since. 587. To have . . . thought on. To reward them in a degree adequate to his appreciation of them. 591. Embrace . . . direction : accept the advice I give you, 594. Receiving, entertainment. 598. As heavens forfend ! which heaven forbid ! 600. Your discontenting .. . liking. Malone explains; *' And where you may, by letters, intreaties, etc., endeavor to soften your incensed father and reconcile him to the match; to effect which my best services shall not be wanting in your ab- sence. 1 " Rowe proposed to insert / 7/, Hanmer, I will, before strive. Such insertion seems necessary, for one can hardly be- lieve it is Florizel who is to strive to ''qualify" his father's wrath. Discontenting, discontented, but with a stronger sense than we give that word now : in " bring him up to." the idea probably is that of screwing an instrument up to a certain pitch. 605. And after ... to thee, and besides that, etc. 609. But as . . . do, but as the sudden accident of the dis- covery made by Polixenes has to answer for what we rashly are about to do, etc. 611. Ourselves . . . chance, " As chance has driven me to these extremities, so I commit myself to chance, to be con- ducted through them" (Johnson). 602. Opening his . . . arms, opening his arms to embrace her heartily. 621. Ask thee ... person, asks of thee forgiveness, as though he were asking your father (of whom it was needed). 623-626. O'er and o'er ... time. His talk is divided between two subjects, his unkindness formerly shown to your father, and the kindness he now feels towards him and you ; the for- mer he banishes with execrations to hell, the latter he desires may grow with a speed greater than that of thought, or of swiftly fleeting time. 628, 629. What color . . . him ? What pretext shall I make 186 NOTES. [act iv., for thus visiting him ? There may be an idea of a ship hoisting its colors as a signal. 630. Sent by, etc., you will pretend that, etc. Comforts, comfortable assurances. 635. Point you forth, indicate to you. Every sitting, on each occasion that he gives you audience. 637. But that you have, that you have not. Bosom, his inmost thoughts. 640. Some sap, some life, some virtue. 643. Unpath'd, not before sailed over, or the dangers of which are laid down in no chart. 644. Most certain . . . enough, the only thing certain in your voyage being that you will meet with abundance of troubles. 645. Shake off one, get free from one misery. 646. Nothing so certain, by no means so certain. 646-648. Who do ... to be, which do their duty most truly when they hold fast on being thrown out, though whenever they are thrown out and do so hold fast, they will only be de- taining you where you will be unwilling to stay, all places having become hateful to you. 649. Prosperity . . . alters. Prosperity is the very security of love, the freshness of whose complexion and heart is quickly changed by affliction. 654. Take in, conquer, subdue, as frequent in Shakespeare. 656. These seven years, for many years to come ; indefinite. 660. She is i' the rear our birth. Some editors insert the preposition of before our, Grant White writing it y only. Even if the preposition be omitted altogether, the ellipse, though somewhat harsh, is intelligible ; she is as forward in respect to education and manners, as she is backward in respect to birth compared to me. 665. I '11 blush you thanks, I "ll pay my thanks in blushes. 66g. How shall we do ? We should say either, " What shall we do ?" or, " How shall we act ?" 674. There, i.e., in Sicily. 675. Appointed, fitted out, equipped. 676. As if... mine. As if you were playing a part written by me and for which therefore it would be only fair that I should furnish you with the requisite properties. 680. My trumpery, my worthless goods. Fr. tromfier, to deceive. 63i. Pomander, " a little ball made of perfumes, and worn in the pocket, or about the neck to prevent infection in times of plague" (Grey). Table-book, tablets, memorandum-book. 683. To keep . . . fasting; the stomach of his pack was quite empty. £85. As if ... hallowed. An allusion to the relics of saints, sc. in.] NOTES. 187 etc., believed to possess some virtue against disease, etc. 687. Best in picture, best to look at, fullest. 689. 'Wants but something, wits, sense, in order to become a reasonable man. 691. Stir his pettitoes, move an inch ; properly used of the feet of pigs when cut off to be cooked and eaten. 693. All their . . . ears, they seemed to have lost all their senses but that of hearing. 695. My sir's song, my gentleman's, that fine fellow, the clown. The nothing of it, its empty nonsense. 697. Lethargy, of all their senses except that of hearing. 699. Whoo-bub, outcry, noise ; the ordinary modern spell- ing is "hubbub,' 1 as whooping-cough is sometimes spelt " hoop- ing-cough." 700. My choughs, these idiots who were as eager after my worthless wares as choughs after chaff. The whole army, as we often say, u the whole host." 712. "Why, hanging, that is the mildest punishment I can expect. 718, 719. Yet . . . exchange ; yet in regard to the outward symbols of your poverty, viz., your dress, we must compel you to make an exchange with us. 721. disease thee, undress. 723, 724. Though the . . . boot. Though in the value of the clothes he is already a loser by the bargain, yet here is some- thing in addition for you ; saying which Camillo gives him money. 728. Half flayed already, already half undressed. 732. Indeed . . . earnest. You have indeed already given me something in advance, but I am almost ashamed to take it. 735? 736- Let my ... ye ! may the prophecy I have just uttered, viz., " fortunate mistress !" prove a true one. 739) 74°- Dismantle . . . seeming ; strip yourself of your holiday garment, and make yourself as unlike yourself as possible. 741. For I . . . over. This is explained by Grant White to mean " over-seeing eyes." 743. I see . . . part, I see that, as circumstances are, I must take a part in the play that is being performed. 746. Have you . . . there ? said to Florizel, have you com- pleted the exchange of dresses ? 752. 'What have . . . forgot ! we have forgotten something of importance ; they then whispei aside. 758. Review, see again. 758. A woman's longing. That eager desire which preg- 1 nant women feel for different kinds of food. 1 88 NOTES. [aci iv. 768. 'What an exchange . . . boot ! even without the money given in addition this exchange would have been a great bar- gain. 771. Extempore, without any previous meditation, design. 773. Clog, the same uncomplimentary term is applied by Bertram to Helena, A. W. ii. 5. 58. 778. Hot brain, quick, eager. 779. Session, sitting of a court of justice, assize. Yields, . . . work, yields opportunities for one so industrious in his profession as myself. 792. Let the law go whistle : you can afford to laugh at the law. 796. To go about, to have the intention of, etc. 800. I know how much. Hanmer inserts tz^ after " know," which in modern phraseology would be necessary in order to give that indefinite sense which is here intended. 804. Fardel, bundle. 810. Excrement, his beard ; the word was used of anything thai grew out of the body, e.g., hair, nails of the hand, etc. 816. Of what having, what your property, possessions. Dis- cover, reveal. 819. Plain fellow, simple, humble. 822. And they often . . . lie. " To give a person the lie' 1 is ordinarily to accuse him of lying. But the words " let me have no lying" show that here " give us the lie" means " lie to us," and the braggadocio Autolycus certainly would not confess that tradesmen accuse " us soldiers" of lying. In any case Autholycus 1 play upon the words is the same — that as they were paid for giving the lie, they could not strictly speaking be said to give the lie. If the order of the words is right here, " not stabbing steel" probably means " not, as might be ex- pected of us, with stabbing steel." It looks, however, as if the words "stamped coin" and "stabbing steel" had been trans- posed. 826. If you . . . manner. "To be taken with the manner" is a law-term meaning "to be caught in the fact." But the clown's words are by no means clear. He would scarcely dare to charge Autolycus with having been about to lie to them i' he had not caught himself in the act. " To have given us one'f must therefore mean " to have charged us with lying," and " if you . . . manner" may mean, " if you had not arrested your- self in the act of doing so, and taken the sting out of the 'lie direct' by the remainder of your speech." 831. Enfoldings, garments, an affectation used in order to impress his simple hearers. 835. Insinuate or toaze, " toaze," " toze" and " touse" seem to be only varieties of " tease," to card or comb wool ; sc. in.] NOTES. 189 do you think because I wind myself into your business or pluck it from you that, etc. 836. Cap-a-pe, from head to foot. 843. Court- word . . . pheasant, Malone would read "pres- ent" ; and it seems more likely that the old shepherd should have misheard the word than that the clown should have so interpreted " advocate." According to Steevens the clown supposes his father, as being a suitor from the country, should have brought a present of game, a form of bribery which Reed says was commonly employed. 853. 1 know by . . . teeth. Toothpicks were introduced from the continent, and were regarded as one of the marks of a traveled man of fashion. 861. Age, old man, abstract for concrete. 869. Hand-fast. "In custody (properly, in mainprise, in the custody of a friend on security given for appearance)' 7 (Dyce. Gloss.). 876. Germane . . . times, related to him however remote the relationship. 878, 880. An old . . . grace ! To think that an old wretch of a shepherd should have the presumption to jdream of making such a grand marriage ! Sheep-whistling, who tends sheep, though it is the dogs not the sheep that obey the call of the whistle. 885, 886. Has the old ... sir ? Said in order to ascertain what punishment awaited himself. 892. Prognostication, the almanac. " Almanacks were in Shakespeare's time published under this title : ' An almanack and Prognostication made of the year of our Lord, 1595' " (Malone). 895. He is to behold him, where the sun will beat upon him from the south and behold him befouled by the flies till he expires. 899. What have . . . king, what business with him. 900. Being . . . considered, if you make me a suitable pres ent. 901. Tender your persons, offer, present, your persons, in- troduce you. 905. Close with him, accept his offer. 907. Led by the nose, g-ulled, but also with a reference to the way in which bears were led. 909. No more ado, make no more fuss about it, don't hesi- tate. 917. Moiety, here in its literal sense, half; Lat. medietas. 919. Though my case, etc. " Case" is used first in the sense of position, circumstances, and secondly for body. 922. O, that 's, etc. Autolycus still pretends not to know 190 NOTES. [act v. who the clown is, and says, " O, that 's only what is to be done to the clown, don't bother yourself about his fate.' 1 924. Comfort, good comfort ! May we have good comfort. Dyce marks this as an " aside" to the shepherd. The clown may perhaps also mean that it is a pretty kind of comfort that Autolycus offers them. 940. Courted, by Fortune, who seems to be in love with me. 943. Turn back . . . advancement, in return for my doing the prince good, I shall probably derive advantage myself. 944. Aboard h m, aboard the ship on which he is. To shore them again, to land them, put them on shore, again. 946. The complaint, etc., of Florizers having resisted them. Concerns him nothing, is of no importance to him. 950. Matter in it, something important, or of advantage, may result from it. ACT V. Scene I. 6. "With them, like them. c. My ... them, my faults in regard to them. id. The wrong, the injury. 21, 22. It is as bitter ... thought. The woid " kiU'd 1 ' comes to me -with as bitter pain from your mouth as the thought in my mind that I did kill her. 25-27. That would . . . better, which would have been more suitable to the time and would have exhibited your kindness -more gracefully. 31, 32. Nor the . . . name, the perpetuation of his name in the person of an heir. 34, 35. May drop . . . on, may fall (like a pestilence) and destroy the bystanders, who will be paralyzed by the anarchy likely to ensue. 36. Is well, is at rest, happy in another world. 37. Royalty's repair, the renovation of royalty. 42. Respecting . . . gone, looking back to her who is gone. 43. Will . . . fulfilled, are determined that their secret pur- poses shall be fulfilled. 47. 'Which, etc., and that it shall be found is as, etc. 55. So his successor, in that way his successor was likely, etc. 60. Had squared . . . counsel ! had acted in accordance with. 70. 'Why to me? Why do you show to me a successor tc sc. i.l NOTES. I91 my rights, and one whom you treat better than you treated me? 73. She had, she would have. 77. 'What dull ... in % what you saw in an eye so dull (com- pared to mine) to admire. 78,79. That even. . . me, that even ears like yours, so un- feeling, should be split by my words. 91. Affront, confront, meet. 95. No remedy . . . will, nothing being able to stop your doing so. no. Like to . . . greatness, in a manner worthy of a king s son. in. So . . . circumstance. Without ceremony. 112. Fram'd, designed, premeditated. 121. Above a . . .gone, as being superior to abetter time that is past. 121 122. So must . . . now! So must you, now that you are dead,' endure to be depreciated in comparison with what is living 124. Is colder . . . theme, " than the lifeless body of Her- mione, the theme or subject of your writing" (Malone). 135. Not women ? Surely you do not mean that women would be her proselytes ? 148. He dies ... of, when his name is mentioned, all the bitter sorrow I felt at his death is revived in me. 164-166. Whom . . . him. For the supplementary pronoun, see Abb. 249 ; although my life is burdened with woe, still I desire that it may be prolonged so that I may once more see, etc. 179-181. And these . . . slackness. And these acts of good will on your part, of such rare kindness, only make clear to me the remissness of my behavior in not having before confessed my fault and asked your pardon. 183. Paragon, " a model of excellence ... A singular word, owing its origin to two prepositions united in a phrase. Span. para, for, to, towards, itself a compound prep, answering to O. Span, pora, from Lat. pro, ad (see Diez) ; and con, with, from Lat. cum, with. Thus it is really equivalent to the three Lat. prepositions pro, ad, cum'''' .(Skeat, Ety. Diet.). 191, 192. Wh ose daughter . . . her ; whom his tears (the sincerity of his grief) when he was parting from her showed beyond all doubt to be his daughter. 195. For visiting, to visit. 203. Do climate here, remain under our skies. 206. Taking . . . note, wrathfully bearing in mind. 216. Attach, lay hands upon. 233, 223. I speak . . . message. I speak in a confused ig2 NOT£S. [act v. way, but it, my manner of speech, is in keeping with the aston- ishment I feel, and the message I bring. 231. Endur'd all weathers, been proof against all attacks. Lay . . . charge, tell him so plainly, for you will have the op- portunity in a few minutes. 236. Has there . . . question, is now in conversation with the .shepherd and his son. . 243. Our contract celebrated, it had already been once in- terrupted, and she fears that the heavens are determined it shall never be ratified. 245. We are not . . . alike. We are not married, nor are we even likely to be so ; the stars will descend from their place in the sky and kiss the valleys sooner than fate will allow our marriage-contract to be complete. The chances of good luck are the same for the high-born as for the humble, the fact of my being a king's son does not necessarily cause fortune to favor me. 256. Worth, here = high birth. 259. Visible an enemy, who is so clearly hostile to us. 262. Owed . . . time, were no greater a debtor in point of years, were no older. 265. As trifles, as though they were trifles. 269. Your eye ... in 't. You look upon her too much with the admiration of youth. Such gazes, such admiring looks. 278. Mark what . . . make, see what effect my pleading may have upon him and act accordingly. Scene II. 2. This relation, the narration of this story. 5. After a . . . amazedness, at first the king and Camillo were so amazed at the story that no notice was taken of us, but after a little time we were all ordered to leave the room. 10. Broken delivery, disconnected. 12. Were very . . . admiration, betokened the greatest as- tonishment. 14. Cases, sockets. 17-21. A notable . . . needs be ; they were evidently strongly moved by wonder, but no one, however wise, without further guide than his eye, could tell whether their behavior indicated joy or sorrow, though it was evident that one of these two feel- ings had been excited in the strongest degree possible. 28. That ballad-makers ... it. That even the ingenuity of ballad-makers would find it difficult to relate the circumstances. 35. Pregnant, clear, evident, full of proof, convincing. sc. ii.] NOTES. 193 41. Affection of nobleness, the natural instinct of nobleness so much above what could be expected of her bringing up. 48. Cannot be spoken of, which no words could worthily describe. 50, 51. That it seemed . . /of them, the various successive phases of joy were so exquisite that it seemed as if sorrow wept at having to part with them. 56. Joy of . . . daughter, joy derived from the finding of his daughter. 57. As if that . . . loss, as if that joy were now turned into sorrow by the reminiscences it called up. 60. Clipping her, embracing her. 62. Weather-bitten, eaten away, corroded by changes of temperature, storms, etc. 64. Undoes ... do it, beggars description to portray it. 68-70. "Which will .. . open. Like one of those old fabulous stories which are always ready to be rehearsed by gossips even though no one will believe them, or even listen to them. 97. How attentiveness . . . daughter, how, as she listened attentively to her fathers story, her heart was wrung. 98. From one sign, etc., passing from one manifestation of grief to another. With an "Alas," with the utterance of the one word Alas ! 101. Who was . . . marble, the most hard-hearted of those present. no. Julio Romano, a famous Italian painter, born a.d. 1492, died a.d. 1546. 112. Custom, trade. lb. Ape, imitator. 122. Piece the rejoicing, make complete. 126. Unthrifty . . . knowledge, carelessly omitting to store up what we might for our knowledge. 137. It would . . . discredits. If I had found out this secret and been the first to communicate it, my doing so would not have found favor in their eyes in the midst of my many and notorious evil doings. 167. Preposterous, for " prosperous. 11 181. Franklins. "Franklin is a freeholder, or yeoman, a man above a villain, but not a. gentleman*'' (Johnson). 185. Tall fellow . . . hands, stout, brave. 192-194. If I do not. . . me not. I assure you it astonishes me immensely that you, not being a tall fellow, should venture to be drunk. 197. We '11 be . . . masters. " The Clown conceits himself already a man of consequence at court. It was the fashion for an inferior, or suitor, to beg of the great man, after his humble commendations, that he would be good master to him. Thus 194 NO TES. [act v. Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, when in prison, in a letter to Cromwell to relieve his want of clothing : ' Furthermore, I beseeche you to be gode master unto one in my necessities ' " (Whalley). Scene III. 5. Paid home, thoroughly paid. 11. We honor . . . trouble. You speak of the honor we do you, but that honor is one that brings trouble with it. 13, 14. Not without . . . singularities, not without great admiration of the many rare works of art it contains. 22. As lively mock'd, imitated to the life as perfectly as sleep imitates death. 26. Comes . . . near ? Is it not a fairly good likeness ? 38-40. As now . . . soul. Which she might have done (z. . C. Ths above work is the most popular work and most widely used text-book on these subjects yet published. Effingham Maynard & Co.', Publishers, Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Feb. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 Language Lessons— Grammar— Composition- Rhetoric— Literature. A COMPLETE COURSE IN FOUR BOOKS. I. Graded Lessons in English. An Elementary English Gram- mar. 164 pp., 16mo. Bound in Linen. II. Higher Lessons in English. 280 pages, lCmo. Bound in Cloth. By Alonzo Reed, A. M., Instructor in English Grammar in Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute ; and Brainerd Kellogg, A. M. ( Professor of English Language and Literature in Brooklyn Colle- giate and Polytechnic Institute. A Complete Course in Grammar and Composition, in Only Two Books. The two books completely cover the ground of grammar and composition, from the time the scholar usually begins the study until it is finished in the High School or Academy. A Text-Book on Rhetoric. Supplementing the development of the Science with exhaustive practice in Composition. A Course of Practical Lessons adapted for use in the High Schools and Acade- mies and in the Lower Classes of Colleges. By Brainerd Kellogg, A. M., Professor of English Language and Literature in the Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute, and one of the authors of Reed & Kellogg's " Graded Lessons in English," and " Higher Les: ons in English." 276 pages, 12mo. A Text-Book on English Literature, adapted for use in High Schools and Academies, and in the Lower Classes of Colleges By Brainerd Kellogg, A. M., Professor of the English Language and Literature in the Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute ; author of "A Text-Book on Rhetoric," and one of the authors of Reed & Kellogg's " Graded Lessons in English, 1 ' and "Higher Les- sons in English." PUBLISHED BY CLARK & MAYNARD, 734 Broadway, New York. A HAND-BOOK OF 'MYTHOLOGY: Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome. ILLUSTRATED FROM ANTIQUE SCULPTURES. BY E. M. BERENS. 330PP. 16i|0, CLOTH. The author in this volume givesW a very graphic way a lifelike picture of the deities of classics times as they were con- ceived and worshiped by the ancients lemselves, and thereby aims to awaken in the minds of young students a desire to be- come more intimately acquainted with t e noble productions of classical antiquity. In the legends which form the second oortion of the work, a picture, as it were, is given of old Greek life ; its customs, its superstitions, and its princely hospitalities ft greater length than is usual in works of the kind. In a chapter devoted to the purpose, some interesting par- ticulars have been collected respecting the public worship of the ancient Greeks and Romans, to which 3s subjoined an ac- count of their principal festivals. The greatest care has been taken that no single passage should occur throughout the work which could possibly offend the most scrupulous delicacy, for which reason it may safely be placed in the hands of the young. 1** RECOMMENDATIONS. " The importance of a knowledge of the myths and legends of ancient Greece and Rome is fully recognized by all classical teachers and students, and also by the intelligent general reader; for our poems, novels, and even our daily newspapers abound in classical allusions which this work of Mr. Berens' fully explains. It is appropriately illustrated from antique sculptures, and arranged to cover the first, second and third dynasties, the Olympian divinities Sea Divinities, Minor and Roman divinities. It also explains the public worship of the ancient Greeks and Romans, the Greek and Roman festivals. Part II. is devoted to the legends of the ancients, with illustrations. Every page of this book is interesting and instructive, and will be found a valuable introduction to the study of classic authors and assist mate- rially the labors of both teachers and students. It is we.l arranged and wisely condensed into a convenient- sized book, 12mo, 3£0 pages, beau- tifully printed and tastefully bound."— "Journal of Ed,