Enter two Gentlemen. 1 Gent. How now? how does he? Leon. Nay, if I tell you, hang me, or any man else [bots, 50 I think; That hath his nineteen wits. He has the He groans, and roars, and kicks. 2 Gent. Will he speak yet? Shortly, he will not see a man. If ever 1 Gent. Is that the cause on't? [me! Leon. What is it not the cause of, but bearbaitings? And yet it stinks much like it. Out upon't! What giants and what dwarfs, what owls and apes, What dogs and cats, it makes us? Men that Live as if they had a legion of devils in 'em, Has he gather'd up the end on's wits again? 1 Gent. He is alive: But, you that talk of wonders, Shew me but such a wonder as he is now. Leon. Why, he was ever at the worst a wonder. 2 Gent. He's now most wonderful: a blazer now, Sir. Leon. What ails the fool? And what star reigns now, gentlemen, We have such prodigies? 2 Gent. "Twill pose your Heav'n-hunters. He talks now of the king, no other language, And with the king, as he imagines, hourly. Courts the king, drinks to the king, dies for the king, [king's colours. Buys all the pictures of the king, wears the Leon. Does he not lie i' th' King-street too? 1 Gent. He's going thither. [guages, Makes prayers for the king, in sundry lanTurns all his proclamations into metre; Is really in love with the king, most dotingly, And swears Adonis was a devil to him. A sweet king, a most comely king, and such a king— I will be sorry yet, is certa ly a flat and aukward reading. The Prince's last words to Leontius were, Thou art a plague-sore to me. Perhaps, therefore, Leontius might say, I will be a sore to you yet; but we shall not disturb the text. 50 Bots.] The bots is a distemper among horses, to which he groans, and roars, and kicks, plainly allude. In Shakespeare's First Part of Henry IV. one of the Carriers complains, that the beans and peas are so dank, they will give poor jades the bots. Upon which passage Dr. Johnson says, The bots are worms in the stomach of a horse;' and Mr. Steevens remarks, that a bots light upon you is an imprecation frequently repeated in the play of Henry V.' 51 And so proceeds to incision.] Mr. Sympson and I have endeavoured in vain to discover the meaning here: The word incision occurs in another play, but is full as dark there as here. Seward. 52 Ela.] A note in musick. R. 53 -- a breech'd boy.] The sense requires that it should be either new-breech'd or un-breech'd; and the want of a syllable to the verse is another reason for the change. Seward. fort of him! They keep me mew'd up here, as they mew No company but my afflictions. This royal devil again! Strange how he haunts How like a poison'd potion his eyes fright me! H' has made himself handsome too. Ant. Do you look now, lady? You'll leap anon. Celia. Curl'd and perfum'd? I smell him. He looks on's legs too? sure he'll cut a caper. God-a-mercy, dear December! Ant. Oh, do you smile now? I knew it would work with you. Come hither, pretty one. Celia. Sir. Ant. I like those court'sies well. Come hither, and kiss me. [here, Celia. I'm reading, Sir, of a short treatise That's call'd the Vanity of Lust: Has your grace seen it? He says here, that an old man's loose desire Is like the glow-worm's light; the apes so wonder'd at; Tupon't, Which, when they gather'd sticks, and laid And blew, and blew, turn'd tail, and went out presently. And in another place, he calls their loves Faint smells of dying flow'rs, carry no comforts; [muddy, They're doting, stinking fogs; so thick and Reason, with all his beams, cannot beat thro' [but fool still! 'ein. Ant. How's this? Is this the potion? You I know you love me. Celia. As you're just and honest, I know, I love and honour you; admire you. Ant. This makes against me, fearfully [secute mé, Celia. But as you bring your pow'r to perYour traps to catch mine innocence, to rob against me. And when you crown your swelling cups to fortune, What honourable tongue can sing my story? So young, so nobly strong, I never tasted. Can nothing in the pow'r of kings persuade you? Celia. No, nor that pow'r command me. I have it in my will. Celia. Your will's a poor one; And, tho' it be a king's will, a despis'd one: Weaker than infant's legs, your will's in swad dling clouts. [you; A thousand ways my will has found to check A thousand doors to 'scape you. I dare die, Sif; As suddenly I dare die, as you can offer. Nay, say you had your will, say you had ra'vish'd me, [by it? Perform'd your lust, what had you purchas'd What honour won? D'you know who dwells above, Sir, [devils? And what they have prepar'd for men turn'd Did you ne'er hear their thunder? Start and tremble, [visit us,, Death sitting on your blood; when their fires Then, when you shake in horror of this villainy, 54 The ever-living memories rais'd to you.] Here memories, as in Shakespeare, is plainly used for memorials. ss Like a snail.] Mr. Theobald and Mr. Sympson concurred in this just emendation. VOL. I. 3 A Seward. [know This beauty he groans under, or come to But any circumstance. What noise is that [coming; there? I think I heard him groan. Here are some A woman too; I'll stand aloof, and view 'em. Enter Menippus, Celia, and Lords. Celia. Well, some of ye have been to blame in this point; [out too, But I forgive ye. The king might have pick'd Some fitter woman to have tried his valour. Men. 'Twas all to the best meant, lady. Celia. I must think so; ftell me! For how to mend it now-He's here, you Men. He is, madam; and the joy to see Will draw him out. [you only Leon. I know that woman's tongue; I think I've seen her face too: I'll go nearer. If this be she, he has some cause of sorrow. 'Tis the same face; the same most excellent woman! [member him. Celia. This should be lord Leontius: I reLeon. Lady, I think you know me. Celia. Speak soft, good soldier! I do, and know you worthy, know you noble: Celia. You shall know where I am. [Exeunt senerally. She goes to knock at's door. This must be miss course. And were these daily with you? Celia. Ev'ry hour, Sir. Dem. And was there not a lady, a fat lady? Celia. 'Tis ev'n the merriest wench Dem. Did she keep with you too? Dem. You are well known here then! think. Dem. How came you by this brave gown? Ljewels? Dem. Is there no modesty, no faith, in this fair sex? Leon. What will this prove to? For yet, with all my wits, I understand not. All that I left thee, fair, and innocent, Leon. By'r lady, this cuts shrewdly. 56 Only turn'd brave.] i. e. Finely drest. So in Philaster, and various other places. Milton also uses bravery in the sense of finery. 56 - is fled from thee, Turn'd back, and bankrupt.] I believe this reading corrupt, because it has an anticlimax in it. To turn back and fly is sense, but to fly and turn back is 'sepov πpótεpov. I hope that I've retriev'd the true word, for it stands in proper antithesis to the epithet fair in the former part of the sentence, and Celia seems afterwards to retort the very word. Then let a thousand black thoughts muster in you. In which line the old folio, (the first impression of this play) reads back as well as in the former: which is a further proof of both being corrupt; for in the latter it's self-evident. Seward, Go from me, grave of honour! go, thou foul one, Thou glory of thy sin! go, thou despis'd one! Go thither, child of blood, and sing my doting! Celia Dare you trust me? Dem. Thou subtle Circe, Cast not upon the maiden light eclipses; Celia. Come, come, you shall not do this. How fain you would seem angry now, to fright me: You are not in the field among your enemies. Dem. Out, thou impudence, Thou ulcer of thy sex! When I first saw thee, [re! Celia. And, as you're noble, do you think Celia. I will go from you, never more to A base suspector of a virgin's honour, A child that flings away the wealth he cry'd for, Him will I call Demetrius; that fool, Demetrius; [man. That madman, a Demetrius; and that fake The prince of broken faiths, even prince Demetrius! [to you, You think now, I should cry, and kneel down Petition for my peace: Let those that feel here The weight of evil, wait for such a favour: And with those enter in a thousand dotings: When you shall come to know how nobly vir- Celia. Live a lost man for ever! [fer'd, pests: And so farewell, ungrateful! [Erit. $7 But impious lust, and looser faces.] The old folio reads, losers faces, which is scarce sense; and the change in the second folio and octavo is not much for the better. I hope I've retrieved the original, looseness will signify all dissolute manners, and so is more comprehensive than lust; the metre too is restored by it. Seward. The word looseness is used in this very sense in the Faithful Shepherdess. Reason made, and mov'd me.] I can scarce affix any idea to this reading, and as the word I have substituted is near the trace of the letters, and the direct contrast of the second verb, I hope it will be thought the true one. I have Mr. Sympson's approbation, but he thinks that the expression, I grow and wander, in the next line, wants either correction or explanation. The sense I affix to it will be a confirmation of the truth of my conjecture. Whereas before reason guided me, whether I stood or moved: Now when I stand still, I do but grow like a vegetable; when I move, I wander like a senseless brute. Seward. 59 And through what seas of hazards I sail'd through.] As this disagreeable tautology is very easily avoided, and more likely to have occurred at the press, than have escaped the Author, we hope to stand excused for the sina!l variation we have made. |