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Touch. Wilt thou rest damn'd ? God help thee, shallow man! God make incision in thee ! thou art raw 6
Cor. Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's
MAKE INCISION in thee!) To make incision was a proverbial expression then in vogue for to make to understand. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Humorous Lieutenant :
O excellent king,
Angel-ey'd king, vouchsafe at length thy favour ;
“ And so proceeds to incision i, e. to make him understand what he would be at.
WARBURTON. Till I read Dr. Warburton's note, I thought the allusion had been to that common expression, of cutting such a one for the simples ; and I must own, after consulting the passage in the Humorous Lieutenant, I have no reason to alter my supposition. The editors of Beaumont and Fletcher declare the phrase to be unintelligible in that, as well as in another play where it is introduced. I find the same expression in Monsieur Thomas :
“We'll bear the burthen : proceed to incision, fidler.” Again, (as I learn from a memorandum of my late friend, Dr. Farmer,) in The Times Whistle, or a New Daunce of Seven Satires : MS. about the end of Queen Eliz. by R. C. Gent. now at Canterbury : The Prologue ends
“ Be stout my heart, my hand be firm and steady;
Strike, and strike home,—the vaine worldes vaine is ready: “ Let ulcer'd limbes and goutie humors quake,
“ Whilst with my pen I doe incision make.” Steevens. I believe that Steevens has explained this passage justly, and am certain that Warburton has entirely mistaken the meaning of that which he has quoted from The Humorous Lieutenant, which plainly alludes to the practice of the young gallants of the time, who used to cut themselves in such a manner as to make their blood flow, in order to show their passion for their mistresses, by drinking their healths, or writing verses to them in blood. For a more full explanation of this custom, see a note on Love's Labour's Lost, Act IV. Sc. III. M. Mason.
6—thou art Raw.] i. e. thou art ignorant ; unexperienced. So, in Hamlet : “
and yet but raw neither, in respect of his quick sail.”. MALONE..
happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm : and the greatest of my pride is, to see my ewes graze, and my lambs suck.
Touch. That is another simple sin in you; to bring the ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle : to be bawd to a bell-wether?; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst 'scape.
Cor. Here comes young master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
Enter ROSALIND, reading a paper.
No jewel is like Rosalind.
But the fair of Rosalindo.
bawd to a Bell-WETHER;] Wether and ram had anciently the same meaning. Johnson.
-fairest Lin'd,] i. e. most fairly delineated. Modern editors read-limn'd, but without authority from the ancient copies.
STEEVENS. 9 But the pair of Rosalind.] Thus the old copy. Fair is beauty, complexion. See the notes on a passage in The Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I. Sc. I. and The Comedy of Errors, Act II. Sc. I. The modern editors read--the face of Rosalind. Lodge's Novel will likewise support the ancient reading :
“ Then muse not, nymphes, though I bemone
“ Since for her faire there is fairer none,” &c. Again :
“ And hers the faire which all men do respect.” Steevens. Face was introduced by Mr. Pope. MALONE.
Touch. I'll rhyme you so, eight years together ; dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted; it is the right butter-woman's rate to market'.
Ros. Out, fool!
If a hart do lack a hind,
— RANK to market,] Sir T. Hanmer reads-rate to market.
Johnson. Dr. Grey, as plausibly, proposes to read-rant. “Gyll brawled like a butter-whore,” is a line in an ancient medley. The sense designed, however, might have been it is such wretched rhyme as the butter-woman sings as she is riding to market. So, in Churchyard's Charge, 1580, p. 7:
“ And use a kinde of ridynge rime." Again, in his Farewell from the Courte: “ A man maie,” says lie,
use a kinde of ridyng rime " To sutche as wooll not let me clime.” Ratt-ryme, however, in Scotch, signifies some verse repeated by rote. See Ruddiman's Glossary to G. Douglas's Virgil.
ŠTEEVENS. The Clown is here speaking in reference to the ambling pace of the metre, which, after giving a specimen of, to prove his assertion, he affirms to be “the very false gallop of verses.” Henley.
A passage in All's Well that End's Well “ Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's mouth, and buy myself another of Bajezet's mules, if you prattle me into these perils;" once induced me to think that the volubility of the butter-woman selling her wares at market was alone in our author's thoughts, and that he wrote-rate at market : but I am now persuaded that Sir T. Hanmer's emendation is right. The hobbling metre of these verses, (says Touchstone,) is like the ambling, shuffling pace of a butterwoman's horse, going to market. The same kind of imagery is found in King Henry IV. Part I. :
“ And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much, as mincing poetry;
“ 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag." MALONE. “ The right butter-woman's rank to market means the jogtrot rate (as it is vulgarly called) with which butter-women uniformly travel one after another in their road market : in its application to Orlando's poetry, it means a set or string of verses in the same coarse cadence and vulgar uniformity of rythm. WHITER.
If the cat will after kind,
Must find love's prick, and Rosalind. This is the very false gallop of verses ? ; Why do you infect yourself with them.
Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree.
Touch. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar : then it will be the earliest fruit 3 in the country : for you'll be rotten e'er you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.
Touch. You have said ; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.
Enter CELIA, reading a paper.
For it is unpeopled ? No ;
2 This is the very FALSE GALLOP OF verses ;] So, in Nashe’s Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse, 4to. 1593 : “ I would trot a false gallop through the rest of his ragged verses, but that if I should retort the rime doggrell aright, I must make my verses (as he doth his) run hobbling, like a brewer's cart upon the stones, and observe no measure in their feet.” Malone.
the EARLIEST fruit—] Shakspeare seems to have had little knowledge in gardening. The medlar is one of the latest fruits, being uneatable till the end of November. STEEVENS.
4 Why should this desert silent be?] The word silent is not in
n every tree,
Runs his erring pilgrimage ;
Buckles in his sum of age.
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend :
Or at every sentence' end,
Teaching all that read, to know
the old copy. Mr. Pope attempted to correct the passage by reading—" Why should this a desert be?” The present judicious emendation was made by Mr. Tyrwhitt, who justly observes that “ the hanging of tongues on every tree would not make it less a desert," Malone. This is commonly printed :
Why should this a desert be?” But although the metre may be assisted by this correction, the sense still is defective; for how will the hanging of tongues on every tree, make it less a desert? I am persuaded we ought to
Why should this desert silent be? TYRWHITT. The notice which this emendation deserves, I have paid to it, by inserting it in the text. STEEVENS.
Yet see the last sentence of Johnson's note immediately following, which will obviate the necessity of Mr. Tyrwhitt's emendation, if we adopt the slight insertion proposed by Mr. Pope.
BoswELL. s That shall civil sayings show.] Civil is here used in the same sense as when we say civil wisdom or civil life, in opposition to a solitary state, or to the state of nature. This desert shall not appear unpeopled, for every tree shall teach the maxims or incidents of social life. JOHNSON.
Civil, I believe, is not designedly opposed to solitary. It means only grave, or solemn. So, in The Twelfth-Night, Act III. Sc. IV.:
“ Where is Malvolio ? he is sad, and civil.”
“ That fourteen yards of satin give my woman;