Puck. I remember. for as Elizabeth, for her chastity, is called a vestal, this unfortunate lady, on a contrary account, is called a mermaid. 3. An ancient story may be supposed to be here alluded to. The empe ror Julian tells us, Epistle 41, that the Sirens (which, with all the modern poets, are mermaids) contended for precedency with the Muses, who, overcoming them, took away their wings. The quarrels between Mary and Elizabeth had the same cause, and the same issue. — on a dolphin's back,] This evidently marks out that distinguishing circumstance of Mary's fortune, her marriage with the dauphin of France, son of Henry II. Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,] This alludes to her great abilities of genius and learning, which rendered her the most accomplished princess of her age. The French writers tell us, that, while she was in that court, she pronounced a Latin oration in the great hall of the Louvre, with so much grace and eloquence, as filled the whole court with admiration. That the rude sea grew civil at her song;] By the rude sea is meant Scotland encircled with the ocean; which rose up in arms against the regent, while she was in France. But her return home presently quieted those disorders: and had not her strange ill conduct, afterwards, more violently inflamed them, she might have passed her whole life in peace. There is the greater justness and beauty in this image, as the vulgar opinion is, that the mermaid always sings in storms: And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's musick.] This concludes the description, with that remarkable circumstance of this unhappy lady's fate, the destruction she brought upon several of the English nobility, whom she drew in to support her cause. This, in the boldest expression of the sublime, the poet images by certain stars shooting mally from their spheres: By which he meant the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, who fell in her quarrel; and principally the great Duke of Norfolk, whose projected marriage with her was attended with such fatal consequences. Here again the reader may observe a peculiar justness in the imagery: the vulgar opinion being that the mermaid allured men to destruction with her songs; to which opinion Shakspeare alludes in his Comedy of Errors: "O train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, "To drown me in thy sisters' flood of tears." On the whole, it is the noblest and justest allegory that was ever written. The laying it in fairy land, and out of nature, is in the character of the speaker. And on these occasions Shakspeare always excels himself. He is borne away by the magic of his enthusiasm, and hurries his reader along with him into these ancient regions of poetry, by that power of verse which we may well fancy to be like what, 66 Olim fauni vatesque canebant." Warburton. Obe. That very time I saw, (but thou could'st not) Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd:7 a certain aim he took And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,] So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece: "And little stars shot from their fixed places." Malone. Every reader may be induced to wish that the foregoing allusion, pointed out by so acute a critic as Dr. Warburton, should remain uncontroverted; and yet I cannot dissemble my doubts concerning it.-Why is the thrice-married Queen of Scotland styled a Sea-MAID? and is it probable that Shakspeare (who understood his own political as well as poetical interest) should have ventured such a panegyric on this ill-fated princess, during the reign of her rival Elizabeth? If it was unintelligible to his au dience, it was thrown away; if obvious, there was danger of offence to her Majesty. "A star dis-orb'd," however, (See Troilus and Cressida) is one of our author's favourite images; and he has no where else so happily expressed it as in Antony and Cleopatra: 66 the good stars, that were my former guides, To these remarks may be added others of a like tendency, which I met with in The Edinburgh Magazine, Nov. 1786."That a compliment to Queen Elizabeth was intended in the expression of the fair Vestal throned in the West, seems to be ge nerally allowed; but how far Shakspeare designed, under the image of the Mermaid, to figure Mary Queen of Scots, is more doubtful. If by the rude sea grew civil at her song, is meant, as Dr. Warburton supposes, that the tumults of Scotland were appeased by her address, the observation is not true; for that sea was in a storm during the whole of Mary's reign. Neither is the figure just, if by the stars shooting madly from their spheres, to hear the sea-maid's musick, the poet alluded to the fate of the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, and particularly of the Duke of Norfolk, whose projected marriage with Mary was the occasion of his ruin. It would have been absurd and irreconcilable to the good sense of the poet, to have represented a nobleman aspiring to marry a Queen, by the image of a star shooting or descending from its sphere." 7 Cupid all arm'd:] All arm'd does not signify dressed in panoply, but only enforces the word armed, as we might say, all booted. So, in Greene's Never too late, 1616: Johnson. "Or where proud Cupid sat all arm'd with fire.” Again, in Lord Surrey's translation of the 4th Book of the Æneid: "All utterly I could not seem forsaken." Again, in King Richard III: "His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights." At à fair vestal, throned by the west;8 And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, In maiden meditation, fancy-free." Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: Before, milk-white; now purple with love's wound, Shakspeare's compliment to Queen Elizabeth has no small degree of propriety and elegance to boast of. The same can hardly be said of the following, with which the tragedy of Soliman and Perseda, 1599, concludes. Death is the speaker, and vows he will spare none but sacred Cynthia's friend, "Whom Death did fear before her life began; "Whose life is heaven's delight, and Cynthia's friend." If incense was thrown in cart-loads on the altar, this propitious deity was not disgusted by the smoke of it. Steevens. At a fair vestal, throned by the west;] A compliment to Queen Elizabeth. Pope. It was no uncommon thing to introduce a compliment to this resolute, this determined virgin, in the body of a play. So again, in Tancred and Gismund, 1592: "There lives a virgin, one without compare, "Who of all graces hath her heavenly share; "In whose renowne, and for whose happie days, "Let us record this Pæan of her praise." Cantant. Steevens. 9 -fancy-free.] i. e. exempt from the power of love. Thus, in Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment in Suffolke and Norfolke, written by Churchyard, Chastity deprives Cupid of his bow, and presents it to her Majesty: and bycause that the Queene had chosen the best life, she gave the Queene Cupid's bowe, to learne to shoote at whome she pleased: since none could wound her highnesse hart, it was meete (said Chastitie) that she should do with Cupid's bowe and arrowes what she pleased." Steevens. 66 1 And maidens call it, love-in-idleness.] This is as fine a metamorphosis as any in Ovid: with a much better moral, intimating, that irregular love has only power when people are idle, or not well employed. Warburton. I believe the singular beauty of this metamorphosis to have been quite accidental, as the poet is of another opinion, in The Taming of a Shrew, Act I, sc. iv: Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once; Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth? Obe. [Exit PUCK. And drop the liquor of it in her eyes: I'll make her render up her page to me. "But see, while idly I stood looking on, And Lucentio's was surely a regular and honest passion. It is scarce necessary to mention, that love-in-idleness is a flower. Taylor, the water-poet, quibbling on the names of plants, mentions it as follows: "When passions are let loose without a bridle, "Then precious time is turn'd to love-in-idle." - Steevens, The flower or violet, commonly called pansies, or heart's-ease, is named love-in-idleness in Warwickshire, and in Lyte's Herbal. There is a reason why Shakspeare says it is "now purple with love's wound," because one or two of its petals are of a purple colour. Tollet. It is called in other counties, the Three-coloured violet, the Herb of Trinity, Three faces in a hood, Cuddle me to you, &c. Steevens. 2 I'll put a girdle round about the earth-] This expression also occurs in The Bird in a Cage, 1633: "And when I have put a girdle 'bout the world, Perhaps it is proverbial. Again, in Bussy d'Ambois, by Chapman, 1613: "To put a girdle round about the world." And in other plays. Steevens. But who comes here? I am invisible;3 Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him. The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.4 Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. 3 I am invisible;] I thought proper here to observe, that as Oberon, and Puck his attendant, may be frequently observed to speak, when there is no mention of their entering, they are designed by the poet to be supposed on the stage during the greatest part of the remainder of the play; and to mix, as they please, as spirits, with the other actors; and embroil the plot, by their interposition, without being seen or heard, but when to their own purpose. Theobald. 4 The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.] The old copies read"The one I'll stay, the other stayeth me." Steevens. Dr. Thirlby ingeniously saw it must be as I have corrected in the text. 5 Theobald. · and wood within this wood,] Wood, or mad, wild, raving. Pope. In the third part of the Countess of Pembroke's Ivy-Church, 1591, is the same quibble on the word: Daphne goes to the woods, and vowès herself to Diana; "Phoebus grows stark wood for love and fancie to Daphne." We also find the same word in Chaucer, in the character of the Monke, Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 184: "What shulde he studie, and make himselven wood ?" Spenser also uses it, Æglogue III. March: "The elf was so wanton, and so wode." "The name Woden," says Verstegan in his Restitution of Decayed Intelligence, &c. 1605: "signifies fierce or furious; and in like sense we still retain it, saying, when one is in a great rage, that he is wood, or taketh on as if he were wood." Steevens. See Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act II, sc. iii. Harris. 6 You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not iron,] I learn from Edward Fenton's Certaine Secrete Wonders of Nature, bl. 1. 1569, that—" there is now a dayes a kind of adamant which draweth unto it fleshe, and the same so strongly, that it hath power to knit and tie together, |