Imagens das páginas

Don Pedro and the count Claudio, alone: tell them, that you

know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal' both to the prince and Claudio, as-in love of your

brother's honour who hath made this match; and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozen'd with the semblance of a maid, — that you have discover'd thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial: offer them instances; which fhall bear no less likelihood, than to see 'me at her chamber-window; hear me call Margaret, Hero; hear Margaret term me Borachio; and bring them to see this, the very night before the intended wedding: for, in the mean time, I will fo fashion the

by his

circumstances weighed, there is no doubt but the passage ought to be reformed, as I have settled in the text - hear me call Margaret, Hero ; kear Margaret term me, Borachio. THEOBALD.

Though I have followed Mr. Theobald's dire&ion, I am not convinced that this change of names is absolutely necessary. Claudio would naturally resent the circumstance of hearing another called

own name; because, in that case, baseness of treachery would appear to be aggravated by wantonness of insult; and, as the same time he would imagine the person so distinguished to be Borachio, because Don John was previously to have informed both him and Don Pedro, that Borachio was the favoured lover.

STEEVENS. We should surely read Borachio instead of Claudio. There could be no reason why Margaret should call him. Claudio ; and that would ill agree with what Borachio says in the Inft Ad, where he declares that Margaret knew not what she did when she spoke to him. M. Mason.

Claudio would naturally be enraged to find his mistress, Hero, (for such he would imagine Margaret to be,) address Borachio, or any other man, by his name, as he might fuppose that she called him by the name of Claudio in consequence of a secret agreement between them, as a cover, in case she were overheard; and he would know, without a poflibility of error, that it was not Claudio, with whom in fa&t she conversed. MALONE.

intend a kind of zeal --] i. c. pretend. So, in King Richard III :

" Intending deep fufpicion." STEEVENS,

[ocr errors]

matter, that Hero shall be absent; and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be call'd assurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

D. John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice: Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

BORA. Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me.

D. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.

LEONATO's Garden.

Enter "BENEDICK and a Boy.

BENE. Boy,
Boy. Signior.

Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the orchard. 6

Boy. I am here already, fir.

BENE. I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again. [Exit Boy.]

[Exit Boy. ] - I do much wonder, that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laugh'd at fuch shallow follies in others, become the argumentof his own scorn, by falling in love: And such a man is Claudio. I, have known, when there was no musick with him

in the orchard.] Gardens were anciently called orchards, So, in Romeo and Juliet : " The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb."


[ocr errors]

but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known, when he would have walk'd ten mile afoot, to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. ? He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honest man, and a soldier; and now is he turn’d orthographer; $ his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted, and see with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman is fair; yet I am well: another


carving the fashion of a new doublet. ] This folly, so con. spicuous in the gallants of former ages, is laughed at by all our comic writers. So, in Greene's Farewell to Folly, 1617:

We are almost as fantastic as the English gentleman that is painted naked, with a pair of sheers in his hand, as not being resolved after what fashion to have his coat cut." STEVENS.

The English gentleman in the above extra & alludes to a plate in Borde's Introduclion of Knowledge. In Barnaby Riche's Faults and nothing but Faults, 410. 1606, p. 6, we have the following account of a Fashionmonger : here comes first the Fashionmonger that spends his time in the contemplation of futes. Alas! good gentlemany, there is something amifl'e with him. I perceive it by his fad and heavie countenance : for my life his tailer and he are at fome square about the making of his new fute; he hath cut it after the old stampe of some ftale fashion that is at the least of a whole fortnight's standing." REED.

. The English gentleman is represented [ by Borde ] naked, with a pair of tailor's Theers in one hand, and a piece of cloth on his atm, with the following verses :

“ I am an Englishman, and naked I ftand here,

Musing in my mynde what rayment I shall were,
16 For now I will ware this, and now I will were that,

". Now I will were I cannot tell what," &c. See Camden's Remaines, 1614, p. 17. MALONE.

orthographer; ] The old copies read orthography. Corn re&ed by Mr. Pope. STEEVENS. VOL. VI.



is wise; yet I am well; another virtuous; yet. I am well: bút till all graces bé in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.

Rich the shall be, that's certain; wife, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her;. fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent mu fician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God.' Ha! the prince and monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.

[ Wiihdraws.


and her hair shall be of what colour ie please God.) Perhaps Benedick alludes to a fashion, very common in the time of Shakspeare, that of dying the hair.

Stubbes, in his Anatomy of Abufes, 1595, speaking of the attires of women's heads, says : " If any have liaire of her owne naturall growing, which is not faire ynough, then will they die it in divers colours," STEEVENS.

The pra&ice of dying the hair was one of those fashions só frequent before and in Queen Elizabetli's time, as to be thought worthy of particular animadversion from the pulpit. In the Homily against excess of apparel, b. 1. 1547, after mentioning the common excuses of fome nice and vain women for painting iheir faces, dying their hair, &c.'the preacher breaks out into the following inveđive : " Who can paynt her face, and curle her heere, and chaunge it into an unnaturall colourd, but therein doth worke reprofe to her maker who made her ? as ihoughe lhe coulde make herselfe more comelye than God hath appoynted the measure of her beautie. What do these women but go about to refourme that which God hath made ? not knowyng that all thynges naturail is the worke of God: and thynges disguysed and unnatural, be the workes of the devyll;" &c. REED.

Or he may allude to the fashion of wearing falle hait, « of whatever colour it pleased God.” So, in a subsequent scene: “I like the new tire withio, if the hair were a thought browner." Fines Moryson, describing the dress of the ladies of Shakspeare's time, says, “ Gentlewomen virgins weare gowncs close to the body, and aprons of fine linnen, and go bare headed, with their hair curiously knotted, and raised at the forehead, but inany (against the cold, as they say, weare caps of hair that is not their own." Sec Tho Two Gentlemen of Verona. MALONE.

The pra&ice of colouring the hair in Shakspeare's time, ceives considerable illustration from Maria Magdalene her Life and


[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

D. PEDRO. Come, shall we hear this musick? CLAUD. Yea, my good lord : -- How still the

evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony! D. PEDRO. See you where Benedick hath hid

himself? Claud. O, very well, mylord: the musick ended, 'We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth.”


Repentance, 1567, where Infidelitie ( the Vice) recommends her to a goldsmith to die her hair yellow with some preparation, when it thould fade; and Carnal Concupiscence tells her likewise that there other geare besides goldsmith's water," for the purpose.

DOUCE. 3 Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?

Claudio. '0, very well, my lord: the musck ended,

We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth. ) i. e. we will be even with the fox now discovered. So the word kid, or kidde, signifies in Chaucer :

66 The foothfastness that now is hid,
" Without coverture shall be kid.
" When I undoen have this dreming."

Romaunt of the Roje, 2171, &c.
66 Perceiv'd or shew'd.
" He kidde anon his bone was not btoken."

Troilus and Creljeide, lib. i. 208, " With that anon fterte out daungere, “ Out of the place where he was hidde; " His malice in his cheere was kidde."

Romaunt of the Rose, 2130. GREY, It is not imposible but that Shakspeare chose on this occasion to employ an antiquated word ; and yet if any future editor should choose to read hid fox, he may observe that Hamlet has said 6 Hide fox and all after.' STEEVENS.

Dr. Warburton reads as Mr. Steevens proposes. MALONE.
A kid-fox seems to be no more than a young fox or cub.

In as pou Like it, we have the cxprefsion of "stwo dog-apes."


« AnteriorContinuar »