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O the heavens! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then

tell me,

If this might be a brother,

I should fin
To think but nobly' of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad fons.

Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises, —
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, -—
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levy'd, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.

Alack, for pity! I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,

it o'er again; it is a hint, *

Will cry

9 To think but nobly-] But, in this place, signifies otherwise than,

Steevens. - in lieu o' the premijes, &c.] In lieu of, means here, in conbderation of; an unusual acceptation of the word. So, in Fletcher's Prophetess, the chorus, speaking of Drufilla, says

“ But takes their oaths, in lieu of her affiftance,
“ That they shall not presume to touch their lives.”

M. MASON, ? —cried out -] Perhaps we should read—cried on't. Steevens.

a hint,] Hint is fuggeftion. So, in the beginning fpeech of the second act:

our hint of woe “ Is common

That wrings mine eyes.'

Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this

story Were most impertinent. Mira.

Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us? Pro.

Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst

not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor ser A mark so bloody on the business; but With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark; Bore us some leagues to sea; where they pre

A rotten carcass of a boat,' not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, fail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it:' there they hoist us,

A similar thought occurs in Antony and Cleopatra, AA V. sc. i:

it is a tidings “ To wash the eyes of kings.” Steevens. s That wrings mine eyes.] i. e. squeezes the water out of them. The old copy

“ That wrings mine eyes

to't." To what? every reader will ask. I have therefore, by the advice of Dr. Farmer, omitted these words, which are unnecessary to the metre; hear, at the beginning of the next speech, being used as a disfyllable.

To wring, in the fenfe I contend for, occurs in the Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I. sc. ii : “ his cook, or his laundry, or his washer, and his wringer.” STEEVENS.

6 -of a boat,] The old copy reads of a butt. Henley. It was corrected by Mr. Rowe. MALONE.

7 - had quit it:] Old copy-have quit it. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. MALONE,

To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to figh
To the winds, whose pity, fighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!

O! a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didft

smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck'd the sea' with drops full falt;

* To cry to the sea that roar'd to us;] This conceit occurs again in the Winter's Tale:-“ How the poor souls roard, and the sea mock'd them," &c. STEEVENS.

9 -deck'd the sea --) To deck the sea, if explained, to honour, adorn, or dignify, is indeed ridiculous, but the original import of the verb deck is, to cover; so in some parts they yet fay deck the table. This sense may be borne, but perhaps the poet wrote fleck’d, which I think is still used in rustic language of drops falling upon water. Dr. Warburton reads mock'd; the Oxford edition brack’d.

JOHNSON. Verstegan, p. 61. speaking of Beer, says, "So the overdecking “ or covering of beer came to be called berham, and afterwards "barme." This very well supports Dr. Johnson's explanation. The following passage in Antony and Cleopatra may countenance the verb deck in its common acceptation :

do not please sharp fate
To grace it with your sorrows."
What is this but decking it with tears?
Again, our author's Caliban says, Act III. sc. ii :

-He has brave utensils,
• Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal.”

STEEVENS. To deck, I am told, signifies in the North, to sprinkle. See Ray's Dict. of North Country words, in verb. to deg, and to deck; and his Dict. of South Country words, in verb. dag. The latter fignifies dew upon the grass;-hence daggle-tailed. În Cole's Latin Dictionary, 1679, we find_" To dag, collutulo, irroro.” Malone.

A correspondent, who figns himself Eboracenfis, proposes that this contested word should be printed degg’d, which, says he, fignifies sprinkled, and is in daily use in the North of England. When cloaths that have been washed are too much dried, it is

Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear

Against what should ensue.

How came we ashore? Pro. By Providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity, (who being then appointed Master of this design,) did give us;’ with

necessary to moisten them before they can be ironed, which is always done by sprinkling; this operation the maidens universally call degging. Reed.

2 An undergoing stomach.] Stomach is pubborn resolution. So Horace, “-gravem Pelidæ ftomachum.Steevens. 3 Some food we had, and some fresh water, that

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity, (who being then appointed

Master of this design,) did give us;] Mr. Steevens has suggested, that we might better read-he being then appointed, and so we fhould certainly now write: but the reading of the old copy is the true one, that mode of phraseology being the idiom of Shakspeare's time. So, in the Winter's Tale:

- This your son-in-law,
“ And fon unto the king, (whom heavens directing,)

“ Is troth-plight to your daughter." Again, in Coriolanus :

waving thy hand, Which often, thus, correlling thy fout heart, “ Now humble as the ripest mulberry, “ That will not hold the handling; or, say to them,” &c.

MALONE. I have left the passage in question, as I found it, though with flender reliance on its integrity.

What Mr. Malone has styled “ the idiom of Shakspeare's time," can scarce deserve so creditable a distinction. It should be remembered that the instances adduced by him in support of his position, are not from the early quartos which he prefers on the score of accuracy, but from the folio 1623, the inaccuracy of which, with equal judgment he has censured.

The genuine idiom of our language, at its different periods, can only be ascertained by reference to contemporary writers whose

Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much: so, of his gentle-

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.

Would I might
But ever see that man!

Now I arise:

works were skilfully revised as they passed through the press, and are therefore unsuspected of corruption. A sufficient number of such books are before us. If they supply examples of phraseology resembling that which Mr. Malone would establish, there is an end of controversy between us: Let, however, the disputed phrases be brought to their test before they are admitted; for I utterly refuse to accept the jargon of theatres and the mistakes of printers, as the idiom or grammar of the age in which Shakspeare wrote. Every grofs departure from literary rules may be countenanced, if we are permitted to draw examples from vitiated pages; and our readers, as often as they meet with restorations founded on such authorities, may juftly exclaim, with Othello,-“Chaos is come again.” Steevens.

4 Now I arise :] Why does Profpero arise? Or, if he does it to ease himself by change of posture, why need he interrupt his narrative to tell his daughter of it? Perhaps these words belong to Miranda, and we should read: Mir. Would I might But ever see that man!

-Now I arise. Pro. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow: Prospero, in p. 13. had directed his daughter to sit down, and learn the whole of this history; having previously by fome magical charm disposed her to fall asleep. He is watching the progress of this charm; and in the mean time tells her a long story, often asking her whether her attention be still awake. The story being ended (as Miranda fupposes) with their coming on shore, and partaking of the conveniences provided for them by the loyal humanity of Gonzalo, The therefore first expresses a wish to see the good old man, and then observes that she may now arise, as the fory is done. Prospero, surprised that his charm does not yet work, bids her fit ftill; and then enters on freih matter to amuse the time, telling her (what she knew before) that he had been her

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