Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir To. Sir AND. and MAR. Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me! Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalf: Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; Vio. Dear lady, Oh. Give me leave I beseech you:3 I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, 3 I beseech you:] The first folio reads " 'beseech you.” Steevens. This ellipsis occurs so frequently in our author's plays, that I do not suspect any omission here. The editor of the third folio reads-I beseech you; which supplies the syllable wanting, but hurts the metre. Malone. I read with the third folio; not perceiving how the metre is injured by the insertion of the vowel-I. Steevens. 4. · you did here,] The old copy reads—heare. Nonsense. Read and point it thus: After the last enchantment you did here, Steevens. i. e. after the enchantment your presence worked in my affec tions. Warburton. The present reading is no more nonsense than the emendation. you Johnson. did here." Warburton's amendment, the reading, though it may not perhaps be absolutely necessary to make sense of the passage, is evidently right. Olivia could not speak of her sending him a ring, as a matter he did not know except by hearsay; for the ring was absolutely delivered to him. It A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving 5 Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, would, besides, be impossible to know what Olivia meant by the last enchantment, if she had not explained it herself, by saying" the last enchantment you did here." There is not, perhaps, a passage in Shakspeare, where so great an improvement of the sense is gained by changing a single letter. M. Mason. The two words are very frequently confounded in the old editions of our author's plays, and the other books of that age. See the last line of K. Richard III, quarto, 1613: "That she may long live heare, God say amen." Again, in The Tempest, folio, 1623, p. 3, l. 10: "Heare, cease more questions." Again, in Love's Labour's Lost, 1623. "Let us complain to them what fools were heare." Again, in All's Well that ends Well, 1623. "That hugs his kicksey-wicksey heare at home." Again, in Peck's Desiderata Curiosa, Vol. I, p. 205: to my utmost knowledge, heare is simple truth and verity." I could add twenty other instances, were they necessary. Throughout the first edition of our author's Rape of Lucrece, 1594, which was probably printed under his own inspection, the word we now spell here, is constantly written heare. Let me add, that Viola had not simply heard that a ring had been sent (if even such an expression as-" After the last enchantment, you did heare," were admissible;) she had seen and talked with the bearer of it. Malone. To one of your receiving -] i. e. to one of your ready apprehension. She considers him as an arch page Warburton. 6 —a cyprus,] is a transparent stuff. Johnson. 7 Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak.] The word hear is used in this line, like tear, dear, swear, &c. as a dissyllable. The editor of the second folio, to supply what he imagined to be a defect in the metre, reads-Hides my poor Vio. I pity you. Oli. That's a degree to love. Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof," That very oft we pity enemies. Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again: O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better Vio. Then westward-hoe :1 I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip!2 heart; and all the subsequent editors have adopted his interpolation. Malone. I have retained the pathetic and necessary epithet poor. The line would be barbarously dissonant without it. Steevens. 8 a grise;] is a step, sometimes written greese, from degres, French. Johnson. So, in Othello: 66 Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers." Steevens. 9 'tis a vulgar proof,] That is, it is a common proof. The experience of every day shews that, &c. Malone. 1 Then westward-hoe:] This is the name of a comedy by T. Decker, 1607. He was assisted in it by Webster, and it was acted with great success by the children of Paul's, on whom Shakspeare has bestowed such notice in Immlet, that we may be sure they were rivals to the company patronized by himself. Steevens. A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE- Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. 20, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip!] So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: 3 "Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes. Steevens. maugre] i. e. in spite of. So, in David and Beth sabe, 1599: Maugre the sons of Ammon and of Syria." Steevens. 4 And that no woman has;] And that heart and bosom I have never yielded to any woman." Johnson. 5 -save I alone.] These three words Sir Thomas Hanmer gives to Olivia probably enough. Johnson. Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving man, than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw it i' the orchard. 6 Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valcur, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy. Sir And. And 't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist," as a politician. 6 Did she see thee the while,] Thee, is wanting in the old copy. It was supplied by Mr. Rowe. Malone. 7 as lief be a Brownist,] The Brownists were so called from Mr. Robert Browne, a noted separatist in Queen Elizabeth's reign. [See Strype's Annals of Queen Elizabeth, Vol. III, p. 15, 16, &c.] In his life of Whitgift, p. 323, he informs us that Browne, in the year 1589, "went off from the separation, and came into the communion of the church." This Browne was descended from an ancient and honourable family in Rutlandshire; his grandfather Francis had a charter granted him by K. Henry VIII, and confirmed by act of parliament; giving him leave "to put on his hat in the presence of the king, or his heirs, or any lord spiritual or temporal in the land, and not to put it off, but for his own ease and pleasure." Neal's History of New-England, Vol. I, p. 58. Grey: |