Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

and Monk Mason; it is so printed in Theobald's

edition of 1740.

Bel.

P. 306.-422.-166.

O, melancholy!

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find

The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare

Might easiliest harbour in ?

The old reading (which Warburton allows to

be a plausible one) may possibly be right.

Aro.

P. 310.-424.-169.

the ruddock would,

With charitable bill,-bring thee all this;

Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,

Το winter-ground thy corse.

I think the emendation proposed by Warbur

ton is clearly wrong.

1

P. 320.-435.-184.

Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since

I wrote him, Imogen was slain.

I rather incline to read I've had no letter, with Mr. Steevens.

Post.

P. 324.-439.-189.

But, alack,

You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love,

To have them fall no more: you some permit

To second ills with ills, each elder worse;

And make them dread it to the doer's thrift.

I am not satisfied with any of the explications of this passage, and am inclined to suspect a corruption.

P. 325.-439.-189.

And make them dread it to the doer's thrift.

I am inclined to adopt Mr. M. Mason's explanation.

X

[blocks in formation]

I cannot do it better than in gyves,

Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,

If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take

No stricter render of me, than my all.

This passage I do not understand.

Bel.

P. 358.-467.-229.

I, old Morgan,

Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment

Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd,

Was all the harm I did.

I think Mr. Tyrwhitt's correction is certainly right.

Imo.

P. 360.-469.-231.

you call'd me brother,

When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When you were so indeed.

I do not think that the old reading we is right. Theobald reads (with the change of a single letter from we) ye, which I think is right.

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

J. and S. 1785.
Vol. VIII.

MALONE.
Vol. x.

J. and S. 1793.
Vol. XIII.

P. 495.-384.-261.

Tit. Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise !

I incline to read in fame's eternal date, with Warburton and Theobald.

P. 508.-395.-276.

Aar. I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made emperess.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis; this queen,
This syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck, and his commonweal's.

I think Malone is right.

P. 510.-397.-279.

Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths

Would I propose, to achieve her whom I love.

I agree with Malone.

P. 511.-398.-280.

Dem. What, hast thou not full often struck a doe,

And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose ?

Malone is right.

P. 513.-400.-283.
Scene II.

I agree with Dr. Johnson.

P. 520.-406.-292.

Dem. This minion stood upon her chastity,

Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,

And with that painted hope braves your mightiness.

I think Mr. Steevens is right.

[blocks in formation]

Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-ax,

Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?

I incline to think that Mr. Theobald's reading,

casques, is the true one.

P. 548.-430.-326.

Mar. Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!

I incline to read revenge then heavens, with Mr. Tyrwhitt.

P. -344.

Emil. Arm, arm, my lords; Rome never had more cause. Mr. Steevens, in his note on these words, has very justly and successfully ridiculed Mr. Malone's strange notion that arm is a dissyllable.

[blocks in formation]

Mr. Theobald has certainly done rightly in giving these words to Lucius. I can hardly think that they are to be understood as Mr. Steevens explains them.

P. 567.-446.-350.

Aar. I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason; villainies

Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd.

Mr. Steevens has certainly given the true meaning of piteously in this place.

P. 580.-459.-367.

Mar. O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body.
Sen. Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself;
And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate cast-away,
Do shameful execution on herself.

I think this speech belongs to Marcus; if so we must read lest; if it be given to another person, we must retain the old reading let.

I see no reason for dissenting from the commentators, who suppose this horrid play not Shakespeare's.

« ÎnapoiContinuă »