Puslapio vaizdai
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trisyllable. I differ much from Mr. Malone about the editor of the 2d folio.

P. 308.-146.-42.

Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses, that she secretly o'er-heard
Your daughter and her cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the wrestler

That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles.
Wrestler is here a trisyllable.

P. 309.-146.—44.

Why would

you be so fond to overcome

The bony priser of the humourous duke?

I read bony with Warburton.

P. 314.-151.-49.

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd.

I am for reading wearying.

Touch.

Ibid.-50.

And I remember the wooing of a

peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods, and
giving her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear
these for my sake.

This passage I do not yet understand. I think with Dr. Johnson that it would be more like sense to read two peas. This, however, I now doubt.

P. 315.-152.-51.

We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but
as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal
in folly.

This is rightly explained by Dr. Johnson.

P. 317.-154.-54.

Ami. My voice is ragged; I know I cannot please you.

I would read rugged. It is very easy to mistake a u for an a in a MS.

Jaq.

P. 322-158.-60.

O, that I were a fool!

I am ambitious for a motley coat.
Duke S. Thou shalt have one.

Jaq.

It is my only suit.

I believe Steevens is right.

P. 323.-159.-62.

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:
For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

As sensual as the brutish sting itself.

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The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon.

In the Taming of the Shrew, Lucentio translates celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.

P. 329.-164.-70.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Not seen is, I think, rightly explained by Dr. Johnson.

P. 334.—168.—77.

Cor. He, that hath learned no wit by nature nor art,
may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull
kindred.

Complain of good breeding is, I think, rightly explained by Dr. Johnson.

P. 335.-168.-77.

Touch. Wast ever in court, shepherd ?

Cor. No, truly.

Touch. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope,

Touch. Truly, thou art damn'd; like an ill-roasted egg,

all on one side.

I do not understand this jest. Perhaps Malone

is right.

P. 336.-169.79.

Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me. I'll rest.
Touch. Wilt thou rest damn'd? God help thee, shallow
man! God make incision in thee! thou art raw.

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I still doubt the meaning of this. Perhaps Mr. Steevens's explanation is just.

P. 337-170.-80.

All the pictures, fairest limn'd,
Are but black to Rosalind.

I take the true reading to be lin'd, which I think means having the fairest lines, lineaments, or features; or, rather (as I find, since writing the above, Mr. Steevens in his edition of 1793 explains it), most fairly delineated.

P. Ibid.-80.

Let no face be kept in mind,
But the fair of Rosalind.

I think Pope's correction (face for fair) is clearly right.

P. 339.-172.-82.

Why should this a desert be?
For it is unpeopled? No;
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That shall civil sayings show.

I do not think Mr. Tyrwhitt's emendation at 'all necessary. The Poet means that when there were many tongues shewing civil sayings in the place, it would no longer be a desert. Dr. Johnson has rightly explained the passage in his note on the word civil.

P. 344.-176.-89.

One inch of delay more is a South-sea-off discovery. I
pr'ythee tell me, who is it?

A South-sea-off discovery is, I think, the true reading, and means as far as the extent of the South sea distant from discovery.

P. 347.-179.-93.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: Have you not been
acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conn'd them out
of rings.

Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
whence you have studied your questions.

There is no need of Sir Thomas Hanmer's emendation. Malone is right.

P. 351.-183.-99. .

Orl. What were his marks ?

Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not: a blue eye,
and sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable
spirit which you have not.

Chamier is certainly right.

P. 352.-184.-101.

Ros. I drave my suitor from his mad humour of love,
to a living humour of madness.

I do not understand this. I cannot think Malone is right.

P. 354.-186.-103.

Touch. When a man's verses cannot be understood,
nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child,
understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great
reckoning in a little room.

...The alteration of the Oxford editor appears to me so strange as to warrant Warburton's censure of it.

P. 357-187.—105.

Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul
slut, were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am
foul.

I think Mason is right.

P-188.-106.

Enter Sir OLIVER MAR-TEXT.

The title Sir, is given to Bachelors of Arts at Oxford.

P. 358.-189.-108.
Not. O sweet Oliver,
O brave Oliver,

Leave me not behi' thee;
But-Wind away,
Begone, I say,

I will not to wedding wi' thee.

I believe Mr. Steevens is right. I would read wend, with Dr. Johnson.

I

Sil.

P. 364.-193.-115.

Will you sterner be

Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

I believe Tollet and Musgrave are right.

Ros.

P. 366.-195.-118.

What though you have more beauty,
(As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed,)
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?

I would read, What though you have beauty.
P. 374.-203.-128.

Ros. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year,
though Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a
hot midsummer night: for, good youth, he went but
forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken
with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish chroniclers
of that age found it was-Hero of Sestos.

I believe chroniclers is the right word, though agree that found is used here in the forensic

sense.

Ibid.

Orl. Then love me, Rosalind.

Ros. Yes, faith will I, Fridays, and Saturdays, and all.

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