Puslapio vaizdai

P. 18.-459.-280.

Cant. Hugh Capet also,-that usurp'd the crown
Of Charles the Duke of Lorain, sole heir male
Of the true line and stock of Charles the great,
To fine his title with some show of truth,

(Though, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,)
Convey'd himself as heir to the lady Lingare,
Daughter to Charlemain.

To fine his title is, I think, rightly explained by Mr. Steevens. I cannot think that find is the right word.

P. 19.-460.-282.

All appear
To hold in right and title of the female:
So do the kings of France unto this day;
Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law,
To bar your highness claiming from the female ;
And rather choose to hide them in a net,
Than amply to imbare their crooked titles
Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.

I am satisfied that imbare is the right word.

P. 21.-461.-284.

O noble English, that could entertain

With half their forces the full pride of France;
And let another half stand laughing by,
All out of work, and cold for action!

I see no reason to suspect that cold is not the right word, which is rightly explained by Mr. Malone himself, and by Mr. Steevens. I cannot suppose that Shakespeare thought of the more recondite meaning mentioned by Mr. Steevens.

P. 21.-461.-285.

West. They know, your grace hath cause, and means, and might; So hath your highness; never king of England

Had nobles richer, and more loyal subjects.

I incline to Mr. Malone's explanation.

P. 24.-464.-289.

Exe. It follows then, the cat must stay at home:
Yet this is but a curs'd necessity;

Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,
And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.

I at present incline to agree with Malone.

P. 31.-470.-299.

K. Hen. We never valu'd this poor seat of England;
And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
To barbarous licence; As 'tis ever common,

That men are merriest when they are from home.

I believe living hence is rightly explained by

Mr. Steevens.

P. 38.-476.-307.

Nym. I dare not fight; but I will wink, and hold out
mine iron: It is a simple one: but what though? it will
toast cheese; and it will endure cold as another man's
sword will.

Butler perhaps remembered Nym's sword in his description of Hudibras's dagger:

"It would scrape trenchers, or chip bread,
Toast cheese and bacon; though it were
To bait a mouse-trap, 'twould not care."

P. 42.-479.-313.

Pist. I do retort the solus in thy bowels:
For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up,
And flashing fire will follow.

I believe take is right, and rightly explained by Mr. M. Mason.


Pist. O braggard vile, and damned furious wight!
The grave doth gape, and doting death is near;
Therefore exhale.

Exhale is, I believe, rightly explained by Mr. Steevens.

P. 45.-481.-317.

Pist. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.
I agree with Mr. Steevens.

P. 48.484.-320.

K. Hen. If little faults, proceeding on distemper,
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye,
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
Appear before us?

Mr. Steevens is right.

P. 55.-490.-329.

Quick. Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. 'A made a finer end.

I think Mr. M. Mason is right.

P. 56.-490.-329.

and went away, an it had been any

christom child.

I agree with Whalley and Malone.

P. 58-492.-331.

his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields.

I think Theobald's emendation uncommonly happy.

P. 61.-495.—336.

Pist. Go, clear thy chrystals.

Dr. Johnson's first explanation of these words is the true one. I am astonished at finding him preferring his second explanation.

P. 62.-495.-336.

Pist. Let housewifery appear; keep close,
I thee command.

Notwithstanding all that is said, I think these words may very well mean keep within doors, and I do not see why we may not so understand


P. 62-496.-337.

Fr. King. Thus come the English with full power upon us ;
And more than carefully it us concerns,
To answer royally in our defences.

Dr. Johnson is right.

P. 65.-498.-340.

Dauph. In cases of defence, 'tis best to weigh
The enemy more mighty than he seems,
So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
Which, of a weak and niggardly projection,
Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat, with scanting
A little cloth.

I agree with Mr. Steevens that which refers to the word defence only, and not to proportions of defence.

P. 66.-499.-341.

Fr. King. Witness our too much memorable shame,
When Cressy battle fatally was struck,

And all our princes captiv'd, by the hand

Of that black name, Edward black prince of Wales;
Whiles that his mountain sire,—on mountain standing,
Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,—

Saw his heroical seed, and smil❜d to see him
Mangle the work of nature, and deface

The patterns that by God and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made.

Mountain sire is, I think, rightly explained by

Mr. Steevens.

P. 72.-504.-349.

and the nimble gunner
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches;
And down goes all before them.

Milton calls the cannon of the rebellious angels,

"devilish enginry." P. L. vi. 553.

P. 75.-507.-353.

Bard. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
Nym. Pray thee, corporal, stay.


agree with Mr. Malone.

P. 75.-507.-353.

the knocks are too hot; and, for mine

own part, I have not a case of lives.

I think with Mr. Malone that Whalley's is the true explanation.

P. 76.-508.-355.

Flu. Got's plood!-Up to the preaches, you rascals !
will you not up to the preaches?

[Driving them forward.
Pist. Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould!
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage!
Abate thy rage, great duke!

Great duke is, I believe, a fantastical compellation of Pistol. The pains some of the editors take to translate Pistol's bombast into sober sense appear to me very curious.

P. 96.-525.-382.

Flu. Hark you, the king is coming; and I must speak
with him from the pridge.

I think Theobald is right.

P. 110.-537.-399.

Chorus. The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,
And the third hour of drowsy morning name.

I do not see the necessity of Mr. Tyrwhitt's emendation of name for named; nor of Sir T. Hanmer's.

P. 111.-537.-400.

The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The morning's danger; and their gesture sad,
Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats,
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon

So many horrid ghosts.


agree with Mr. Malone

« AnkstesnisTęsti »