« PreviousContinue »
round, underborne with a bluish tinsel: but for a fine,
heart is exceeding heavy!
Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon, by the weight of a man.
Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without marriage? I think, you would have me say, saving your reverence,ma husband: an bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend no body: Is there any harm in—the heavier for a husband? None, I think, an it be the right husband, and the right wife;
taine Frobisher, by Dionyse Settle, 12mo. bl. 1. 1577: “They make their apparell with hoodes and tailes, &c. The men have them not so syde as the women.”
Such long sleeves, within my memory, were worn by children, and were called hanging-sleeves ; a term which is preserved in a line, I think, of Dryden:
“ And miss in hanging-sleeves now shakes the dice." Side or Syde in the north of England, and in Scotland, is used for long when applied to a garment, and the word has the same signification in the Anglo-Saxon and Danish. Vide Glossary to Gawaine Douglas's Virgil. To remove an appearance of tautology, as down-sleeves may seem synonymous with side-sleeves, a comma must be taken out, and the passage printed thus "Set with pearls down sleeves, or down th' sleeves.” The second pa. ragraph of this note is copied from the Edinburgh Magazine, for Nov. 1786. Steevens.
Side-sleeves were certainly long-sleeves, as will appear from the following instances. Stowe's Chronicle, p. 327, tempore Hen. IV ; “ This time was used exceeding pride in garments, gownes with deepe and broad sleeves commonly called poke sleeves, the servants ware them as well as their masters, which might well have been called the receptacles of the devil, for what they stole they hid in their sleeves, whereof some hung downe to the feete, and at least to the knees, full of cuts and jagges, whereupon were made these verses: [i. e. by Tho. Hoccleve.]
“ Now hath this land little neede of broomes
“To sweepe away the filth out of the streete “Sen side-sleeves of penilesse groomes
“ Will it up licke be it drie or weete.” Again, in Fitzherbert's Book of Husbandry: “ Theyr cotes be so syde that they be fayne to tucke them up whan they ride, as women do theyr kyrtels whan they go to the market," &c. Reed.
otherwise 'tis light, and not heavy: Ask, my lady Beatrice else, here she comes.
Enter BEATRICE. Hero. Good morrow, coz. Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero. Hero. Why, how now, do you speak in the sick tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks.
Marg. Clap us into-Light o'love ;5 that goes without a burden; do you sing it, and I 'll dance it.
Beat. Yea, Light om love, with your heels ?-then if your husband have stables enough, you 'll see he shall lack no barns. 6
Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with
Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; 'tis time you were ready. By my troth I am exceeding ill:-hey ho!
Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband??
Light o love ;] This tune is alluded to in Fletcher's Two Noble Kinsmen. The gaoler's daughter, speaking of a horse, says:
“ He gallops to the tune of Light o' love." It is mentioned again in The Tavo Gei tlemen of Verona:
“ Best sing it to the tune of Lighi o' love." And in The Noble Gentleman of Beaumont and Fletcher. Again, in A Gorgious Gallery of gallant Inventions, &c. 4to. 1578: “ The lover exhorteth his lady to be constant to the tune of
“ Attend go play thee
— no barns.] A quibble between barns, repositories of corn, and bairns, the old word for children. Fuhnson. So, in The Winter's Tale: “Mercy on us, a barn! a very pretty barn!” Steevens.
hey ho! Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?] “ Heigh ho for a husband, or the willing maid's wants made known," is the title of an old ballad in the Pepysian Collection, in Magdalen College, Cambridge. Malone.
8 For the letter that begins them all, H.) This is a poor jest, somewhat obscured, and not worth the trouble of elucidation.
Margaret asks Beatrice for what she cries, hey ho; Beatrice answers, for an H, that is for an ache, or pain. Fohnson.
Heywood, among his Epigrams, published in 1566, has one on the letter H:
“H is worst among letters in the cross-row;
Marg. Well, an you be not turn'd Turk,' there 's no more sailing by the star.
Beat. What means the fool, trow?1
Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!
Hero. These gloves the count sent me, they are an excellent perfume.
Beat. I am stuff'd, cousin, I cannot smell.
Marg. A maid, and stuff'd! there's goodly catching of cold.
Beat. 0, God help me! God help me! how long have you profess'd apprehension?
Marg. Ever since you left it: Doth not my wit become me rarely?
Beat. It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your cap.-By my troth, I am sick.
Marg. Get you some of this distillid Carduus Benedictus,2 and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.
Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thistle.
Beat. Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral 3 in this Benedictus.
“ In thine arm, or leg, in any degree;
– turn’d, Turk,] i. e. taken captive by love, and turned a renegado to his religion. Warburton.
This interpretation is somewhat far-fetched, yet, perhaps, it is right. Johnson.
Hamlet uses the same expression, and talks of his fortune's turning Turk. To turn Turk, was a common phrase for a change of condition or opinion. So, in The Honest Whore, by Decker, 1616:
“ If you turn Turk again,” &c. Steevens. 1 What means the fool, trow?] This obsolete exclamation of inquiry, is corrupted from I trow, or trow you, and occurs again in The Merry Wives of Windsor :“Who's there, trow?” To trow is to imagine, to conceive. So; in Romeo and Juliet, the Nurse says: “'Twas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge.” Steevens.
Carduus Benedictus,] “ Carduus Benedictus, or blessed this. tle (says Cogan in his Haven of Health, 1595) so worthily named for the singular virtues that it hath.”—“This herbe may worthily be called Benedictus, or Omnimorbia, that is, a salve for every sore, not knowen to physitians of old time, but lately revealed by the speciali providence of Almighty God.” Steevens.
Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think, perchance, that I think you are in love: nay, by ’r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list; nor I list not to think what I can; nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love: yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man: he swore he would never marry; and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging:* and how you may be converted, I know not; but methinks, you look with your eyes as other women do.5
Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
— some moral — ] That is, some secret meaning, like the moral of a fable. Fohnson.
Dr. Johnson's explanation is certainly the true one, though it has been doubted. In The Rape of Lucrece our author uses the verb to moralize in the same sense:
“ Nor could she moralize his wanton sight.” i. e. investigate the latent meaning of his looks.
Again, in The Taming of the Shrew: “— - and has left me here behind, to expound the meaning or moral his signs and tokens.” Malone.
Moralizations (for so they were called) are subjoined to many of our ancient Tales, reducing them into Christian or moral les.
See the Gesta Romanorum, &c. Steevens.
- he eats his meat without grudging :) I do not see how this is a proof of Benedick's change of mind. It would afford more proof of amorousness, to say, he eats not his meat without grudging; but it is impossible to fix the meaning of proverbial expressions: perhaps, to eat meat without grudging, was the same as, to do as others do, and the meaning is, he is content to live by eating like other mortals, and will be content, notwithstanding his boasts, like other mortals, to have a wife. Johnson.
Johnson considers this passage too literally. The meaning of it is, that Benedick is in love, and takes kindly to it. M. Muson.
The meaning, I think, is, “ and yet now, in spite of his resolu. tion to the contrary, he feeds on love, and likes his food.”
Malone. - you look with your eyes as other women do.] i. e. rou direct your eyes toward the same object; viz. a husband. Steevens,
Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.
[Exeunt. SCENE V. Another Room in LEONATO's House. Enter LEONATO, with DOGBERRY and VERGES. Leon. What would you with me, honest neighbour?
Dogb. Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you, that decerns you nearly.
Leon. Brief, I pray you; for you see, 'tis a busy time
Dogb. Marry, this it is, sir.
Dogb. Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt, as, God help, I would desire they were; but, in faith, honest, as the skin between his brows.6
Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no honester than I.?
Dogb. Comparisons are odorous: palabras, neighbour Verges.
honest, as the skin between his brows.] This is a proverbial expression. Steevens.
So, in Gammar Gurton's Needle, 1575:
“I am as true, I would thou knew, as skin betwene thy brows." Again, in Cartwright's Ordinary, Act V, sc. ii:
“I am as honest as the skin that is between thy brows.” Reed. 7 I am as honest as any man living, that is an old man, and no ho. nester than I.] There is much humour, and extreme good sense under the covering of this blundering expression. It is a sly insinuation, that length of years, and the being much hacknied in the ways of men, as Shakspeare expresses it, take off the gloss of virtue, and bring much defilement on the manners. For, as a great wit (Swift) says, Youth is the season of virtue : corruptions grow with years, and I believe the oldest rogue in England is the greatest.
Warburton. Much of this is true, but I believe Shakspeare did not intend to bestow all this reflection on the speaker. Fohnson.
palabras,] So, in The Taming of the Shrew, the Tinker says, pocas pallabras, i. e. few words. A scrap of Spanish, which might once have been current among the vulgar, and had appeared as Mr. Henley observes, in The Spanish Tragedy : “ Pocas pallabras, milde as the lambe.” Steevens.