Puslapio vaizdai

and Monk Mason ; it is so printed in Theobald's edition of 1740.

P. 306.-422.--166.

O, melancholy !
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ? find
The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare

Might easiliest harbour in ? The old reading (which Warburton allows to be a plausible one) may possibly be right.

P. 310.-424.-169.

the ruddock would,
With charitable bill, - bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,

To winter-ground thy corse. I think the emendation proposed by Warburton is clearly wrong.

P. 320.-435.—184.
Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since

I wrote him, Imogen was slain.
I rather incline to read I've had no letter, with
Mr. Steevens.

P. 324.-439.—189.

But, alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love,
To have them fall no more : you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse ;

And make them dread it to the doer's thrift. I am not satisfied with any of the explications of this passage, and am inclined to suspect a corruption.

P. 325.-_-439.-189. And make them dread it to the doer's thrift. I am inclined to adopt Mr. M. Mason's explanation.


This passage

P. 334.-446.—200.

Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desir’d, more than constrain'd : to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me, than my all.

I do not understand.

P. 358.—467.229.

1, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd,

Was all the harm I did. I think Mr. Tyrwhitt's correction is certainly right.

P. 360.-469.-231.


call'd me brother, When I was but

your sister; I


brothers, When you were so indeed. I do not think that the old reading we is right. Theobald reads (with the change of a single letter from we) ye, which I think is right.


J. and S. 1785.

Vol. VIII.

Vol. x.

J. and S. 1793.

Vol. XIII.

P. 495.384.-261.
Tit. Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise !

I incline to read in fame’s eternal date, with Warburton and Theobald.

P. 508.-395.-276. .
Aar. I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made emperess.
To wait, said I ? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis ;—this queen,
This syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,

And see his shipwreck, and his commonweals.
I think Malone is right.

P. 510.-397.-279.
Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths

Would I propose, to achieve her whom I love.

agree with Malone.

P. 511.-398.-280.
Dem. What, hast thou not full often struck a doe,

And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose ?
Malone is right.

P. 513.-400.-283.

Scene II.
I agree with Dr. Johnson.

P. 520.–406.-292.
Dem. This minion stood upon her chastity,
Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,

And with that painted hope braves your mightiness.
I think Mr. Steevens is right.

P. 521.-407.-293.

the raven doth not hatch a lark.

nec imbellem feroces Progenerant aquilæ columban.

Hor. P. 534,-418.-309. Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-ax, Writing destruction on the enemy's castle ? I incline to think that Mr. Theobald's reading, casques, is the true one.

P. 548.–430.-326.
Mar. Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus !
I incline to read revenge then heavens, with Mr.

Æmil, Arm, arm, my lords; Rome never had more cause.

Mr. Steevens, in his note on these words, has very justly and successfully ridiculed Mr. Malone's strange notion that arm is a dissyllable.

P. 566.446.--350.
Luc. Get me a ladder.

Lucius, save the child. Mr. Theobald has certainly done rightly in giving these words to Lucius. I can hardly think that they are to be understood as Mr. Steevens explains them.

P. 567.-446.350.
Aar. I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason; villainies

Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform’d. Mr. Steevens has certainly given the true meaning of piteously in this place.

P. 580,-459.367.
Mar. 0, let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body.
Sen. Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself;
And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate cast-away,

Do shameful execution on herself. I think this speech belongs to Marcus; if so we must read lest; if it be given to another person, we must retain the old reading let.

I see no reason for dissenting from the commentators, who suppose this horrid play not Shakespeare's.

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