IV.ii.62 (437,5) Thou changed, and self-cover'd thing] Of these lines there is but one copy, and the editors are forced open conjecture. They have published this line thus;

Thou chang'd, and self-converted thing;

but I cannot but think that by self-cover'd the author meant, thou that hast disguised nature by wickedness; thou that hast hid the woman under the fiend.

IV.ii.83 (438,6) One way, I like this well] Gonerill is well pleased that Cornwall is destroyed, who was preparing war against her and her husband, but is afraid of losing Edmund to the widow.

IV.iii (439,1) The French camp, near Dover. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman] This scene seems to have been left out only to shorten the play, and is necessary to continue the action. It is extant only in the quarto, being omitted in the first folio. I have therefore put it between crotchets.

IV.iii (439,2) a Gentleman] The gentleman whom he sent in the foregoing act with letters to Cordelia.

IV.iii.26 (440,4) Made she no verbal question?] I do not see the impropriety of verbal question; such pleonasms are common. So we say, my ears have heard, my eyes have beheld. Besides, where is the word quest [Warburton's emendation] to be found?

IV.iii.33 (440,6) And clamour-moisten'd] Clamour moisten'd her; that is, her out-cries were accompanied with tears.

IV.iii.36 (441,7) one self-mate and mate] The same husband and the same wife.

IV.iii.51 (441,9) 'Tis so they are a-foot] Dr. Warburton thinks it necessary to read, 'tis said; but the sense is plain, So it is that they are on foot.

IV.iv.4 (442,1) With bur-docks, hemlock] I do not remember any such plant as a hardock, but one of the most common weeds is a burdock, which I believe should be read here; and so Hanmer reads.

IV.iv.20 (443,2) the means to lead it] The reason which should guide it.

IV.iv.26 (443,3) My mourning and important tears hath pitied] In other places of this author for importunate.

IV.iv.27 (443,4) No blown embition] No inflated, no swelling pride. Beza on the Spanish Armada:

"Quem bene te ambitio mersit vanissima, ventus,
Et tumidos tumidae voa superastis aquae."

IV.v.4 (444,1) Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lady at home?] The folio reads, your lord; but lady is the first and better reading.

IV.v.22 (444,3) Let me unseal the letter./Stew. Madam, I had rather] I know not well why Shakespeare gives the steward, who is a mere factor of wickedness, so much fidelity. He now refuses the letter; and afterwards, when he is dying, thinks only how it may be safely delivered.

IV.v.29 (445,5) I do advise you, take this note] Note means in this place not a letter but a remark. Therefore observe what I am saying.

IV.v.32 (446,6) You may gather more] You may infer more than I have directly told you.

IV.vi (446,1) The country near Dover. Enter Glo'ster, and Edgar as a peasant] This scene, and the stratagem by which Glo'ster is cured of his desperation, are wholly borrowed from Sidney's Arcadia.

IV.vi.7 (447,2) thy voice is alter'd] Edgar alters his voice in order to pass afterwards for a malignant spirit.

IV.vi.11 (447,5) How fearful/And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!] This description has been much admired since the time of Addison, who has remarked, with a poor attempt at pleasantry, that "he who can read it without being giddy, has a very good head, or a very bad one." The description is certainly not mean, but I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence of poetry. He that looks from a precipice finds himself assailed by one great and dreadful image of irresistible destruction. But this overwhelming idea is dissipated and enfeebled from the instant that the mind can restore itself to the observation of particulars, and diffuse its attention to distinct objects. The enumeration of the choughs and crows, the samphire-man, and the fishers, counteracts the great effect of the prospect, as it peoples the desert of intermediate vacuity, and stops the mind in the rapidity of its descent through emptiness and horror.

IV.vi.19 (447,4) her cock] Her cock-boat.

IV.vi.43 (448,6) when life itself/Yields to the theft] When life is willing to be destroyed.

IV.vi.47 (449,7) Thus might he pass, indeed] Thus he might die in reality. We still use the word passing bell.

IV.vi.53 (449,9) Ten masts at each make not the altitude] [Pope: attacht] Mr. Pope's conjecture may stand if the word which he uses were known in our author's time, but I think it is of later introduction. He may say,

Ten masts on end—

IV.vi.57 (449,1) chalky bourn] Bourn seems here to signify a hill. Its common signification is a brook. Milton in Comus uses bosky bourn in the same sense perhaps with Shakespeare. But in both authors it may mean only a boundary.

IV.vi.73 (450,2) the clearest gods] The purest; the most free from evil.

IV.vi.80 (450,3) Bear free and patient thoughts] To be melancholy is to have the mind chained down to one painful idea; there is therefore great propriety in exhorting Glo'ster to free thoughts, to an emancipation of his soul from grief and despair.

IV.vi.81 (450,4) The safer sense will ne'er accommodate/His master thus] [W: sober sense] I read rather,

The saner sense will ne'er accoomodate
His master thus.

"Here is Lear, but he must be mad: his sound or sane senses would never suffer him to be thus disguised."

IV.vi.87 (451,5) That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper] This crow-keeper was so common in the author's time, that it is one of the few peculiarities mentioned by Ortelius in his account of our island.

IV.vi.93 (451,8) Give the word] Lear supposes himself in a garrison, and before he lets Edgar pass, requires the watch-word.

IV.vi.97 (452,7) Ha! Gonerill!—with a white beard!] So reads the folio, properly; the quarto, whom the later editors have followed, has, Ha! Gonerill, ha! Regan! they flattered me, &c. which is not so forcible.

IV.vi.98 (452,8) They flattered me like a dog] They played the spaniel to me.

IV.vi.121 (453,2) Whose face between her forks] I believe that the forks were two prominences of the ruff rising on each side of the face.

IV.vi.124 (453,4) nor the soyled horse] Soiled horse is probably the same as pampered horse, un cheval soûlé.

IV.vi.169 (454.5) Robes and furr'd gowns hide all] From hide all to accuser's lips, the whole passage is wanting in the first edition, being added, I suppose, at his revisal.

IV.vi.187 (455,8) This a good block!] I do not see how this block corresponds either with his foregoing or following train of thoughts. Madmen think not wholly at random. I would read thus, a good flock. Flocks are wool moulded together. The sentence then follows properly:

It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
A troop of horse with felt;—

i.e. with flocks kneaded to a mass, a practice I believe sometimes used in former ages, for it is mentioned in Ariosto:

"—Fece nel cader strepito quanto
Avesse avuto sotto i piedi il feltro."

It is very common for madmen to catch an accidental hint, and strain it to the purpose predominant in their minds. Lear picks up a flock, and immediately thinks to surprize his enemies by a troop of horse shod with flocks or felt. Yet block may stand, if we suppose that the sight of a block put him in mind of mounting his horse.

IV.vi.199 (457,1) Why, this would make a man, a man of salt] Would make a man melt away like salt in wet weather.

IV.vi.206 (457,2) Then there's life in't] The case is not yet desperate.

IV.vi.217 (457,3) the main descry/Stands on the hourly thought] The main body is expected to be descry'd every hour. The expression is harsh.

IV.vi.246 (459,7) che vor'ye] I warn you. Edgar counterfeits the western dialect.

IV.vi.281 (460,3) Thee I'll rake up] I'll cover thee. In Staffordshire, to rake the fire, is to cover it with fuel for the night.

IV.vi.234 (460,4) the death-practis'd duke] The duke of Albany, whose death is machinated by practice or treason.

IV.vii.3 (461,1) every measure fail me] All good which I shall allot thee, or measure out to thee, will be scanty.

IV.vii.9 (461,4) shortens my made intent] [W: laid] An intent made, is an intent formed. So we say in common language, to make a design, and to make a resolution.

IV.vii.41 (464,2) 'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits, at once,/Had not concluded all] [W: concluded.—Ah!] The plain construction is this: It is wonder that the wits and life had not all ended.

IV.vii.85-97 (466,9)

[Gent. Holds it true, Sir,
That the duke of Cornwall was so slain?]

What is printed in crotchets is not in the folio. It is at least proper, if not necessary; and was omitted by the author, I suppose, for no other reason than to shorten the representation.

V.i.4 (467,2) his constant pleasure] His settled resolution.

V.i.54 (470,7) We will greet the time] We will be ready to meet the occasion.

V.i.61 (470,8) carry out my side] Bring my purpose to a successful issue, to completion. Side seems here to have the sense of the French word partie, in prendre partie, to take his resolution.

V.i.68 (471,9) for my state/Stands on me to defend, not to debate] I do not think that for stands in this place as a word of inference or causality. The meaning is rather: Such is my determination concerning Lear; as for my state it requires now, not deliberation, but defence and support.

V.iii.16 (472,1) And take upon us the mystery of things,/As if we were God's spies] As if we were angels commissioned to survey and report the lives of men, and were consequently endowed with the power of prying into the original motives of action and the mysteries of conduct.

V.iii.18 (472,2) packs and sects] Packs is used for combinations or collection, as is a pack of cards. For sects I think sets might be more commodiously read. So we say, affairs are now managed by a new set. Sect, however, may well stand.

V.iii.24 (473,6) flesh and fell] Flesh and skin.

V.iii.54 (475,1)

[At this time
We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd
By those that feel their sharpness:—
The question of Cordelia, and her father,
Requires a fitter place.]]

This passage, well worthy of restoration, is omitted in the folio.

V.iii.65 (475,4) The which immediacy] [Immediacy, for representation. WARBURTON.] Immediacy is rather supremacy in opposition to subordination, which has quiddam medium between itself and power.

V.iii.79 (476,7) The lett alone lies not in your good will] Whether he shall not or shall depends not on your choice.

V.iii.89 (476,8) An interlude!] This short exclamation of Gonerill is added in the folio edition, I suppose, only to break the speech of Albany, that the exhibition on the stage might be more distinct and intelligible.

V.iii.129 (478,1) Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,/My oath, and my profession] The privilege of this oath means the privilege gained by taking the oath administered in the regular initiation of a knight professed.

V.iii.151 (479,3)

Alb. Save him, save him!
Gon. This is mere practice, Glo'ster]

He desired that Edmund's life might be spared at present, only to obtain his confession, and to convict him openly by his own letter.

V.iii.166 (480,6) Let us exchange charity] Our author by negligence gives his heathens the sentiments and practices of Christianity. In Hamlet there is the same solemn act of final reconciliation, but with exact propriety, for the personages are Christians.

V.iii. 204-221 (481,2) [Edg;.—This would have seem'd a period] The lines between crotchets are not in the folio.

V.iii.229 (433,4) Here comes Kent, Sir] The manner in which Edgar here mentions Kent, seems to require the lines which are inserted from the first edition in the foregoing scene.

V.iii.264 (485,7)

Edg. Or image of that horror?
Alb. Fall, and cease!]

These two exclamations are given to Edgar and Albany in the folio, to animate the dialogue, and employ all the persons on the stage; but they are very obscure.

V.iii.301 (487,4) With boot] With advantage, with increase.

(488) General Observation. The tragedy of Lear is deservedly celebrated among the dramas of Shakespeare. There is perhaps no play which keeps the attention so strongly fixed; which so much agitates our passions and interests our curiosity. The artful involutions of distinct interests, the striking opposition of contrary characters, the sudden changes of fortune, and the quick succession of events, fill the mind with a perpetual tumult of indignation, pity, and hope. There is no scene which does not contribute to the aggravation of the distress or conduct of the action, and scarce a line which does not conduce to the progress of the scene. So powerful is the current of the poet's imagination, that the mind, which once ventures within it, is hurried irresistibly along.

On the seeming improbability of Lear's conduct it may be observed, that he is represented according to histories at that time vulgarly received as true. And, perhaps, if we turn our thoughts upon the barbarity and ignorance of the age to which this story is referred, it will appear not so unlikely as while we estimate Lear's manners by our own. Such preference of one daughter to another, or resignation of dominion on such conditions, would be yet credible, if told of a petty prince of Guinea or Madagascar. Shakespeare, indeed, by the mention of his earls and dukes, has given us the idea of times more civilized, and of life regulated by softer manners; and the truth is, that though he so nicely discriminates, and so minutely describes the characters of men, he commonly neglects and confounds the characters of ages, by mingling customs ancient and modern, English and foreign.

My learned friend Mr. Warton, who has in the Adventurer very minutely criticised this play, remarks, that the instances of cruelty are too savage and shocking, and that the intervention of Edmund destroys the simplicity of the story. These objections may, I think, be answered, by repeating, that the cruelty of the daughters is an historical fact, to which the poet has added little, having only drawn it into a series by dialogue and action. But I am not able to apologize with equal plausibility for the extrusion of Glo'ster's eyes, which seems an act too horrid to be endured in dramatic exhibition, and such as must always compel the mind to relieve its distress by incredulity. Yet let it be remembered that our author well knew what would please the audience for which he wrote.

The injury done by Edmund to the simplicity of the action is abundantly recompensed by the addition of variety, by the art with which he is made to co-operate with the chief design, and the opportunity which he gives the poet of combining perfidy with perfidy, and connecting the wicked son with the wicked daughters, to impress this important moral, that villainy is never at a stop, that crimes lead to crimes, and at last terminate in ruin.

But though this moral be incidentally enforced, Shakespeare has suffered the virtue of Cordelia to perish in a just cause, contrary to the natural ideas of justice, to the hope of the reader, and, what is yet more strange, to the faith of chronicles. Yet this conduct is justified by The Spectator, who blames Tate for giving Cordelia success and happiness in his alteration, and declares, that, in his opinion, the tragedy has lost half its beauty. Dennis has remarked, whether justly or not, that, to secure the favourable reception of Cato, the town was poisoned with much false and abominable criticism, and that endeavours had been used to discredit and decry poetical justice. A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life: but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or, that if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue.

In the present case the public has decided. Cordelia, from the time of Tate, has always retired with victory and felicity. And, if my sensations could add any thing to the general suffrage, I night relate, I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor.

There is another controversy among the critics concerning this play. It is disputed whether the predominant image in Lear's disordered mind be the loss of his kingdom or the cruelty of his daughters. Mr. Murphy, a very judicious critic, has evinced by induction of particular passages, that the cruelty of his daughters is the primary source of his distress, and that the loss of royalty affects him only as a secondary and subordinate evil. He observes with great justness, that Lear would move our compassion but little, did we not rather consider the injured father than the degraded king.

The story of this play, except the episode of Edmund, which is derived, I think, from Sidney, is taken originally from Geoffry of Monmouth, whom Hollinshed generally copied; but perhaps immediately from an old historical ballad. My reason for believing that the play was posterior to the ballad, rather than the ballad to the play, is, that the ballad has nothing of Shakespeare's nocturnal tempest, which is too striking to have been omitted, and that it follows the chronicle; it has the rudiments of the play, but none of its amplifications: it first hinted Lear's madness, but did not array it in circumstances. The writer of the ballad added something to the history, which is a proof that he would have added more, if more had occurred to his mind, and more must have occurred if he had seen Shakespeare. [Johnson appends "A lamentable SONG of the Death of King Leir and his Three Daughters"]

Vol. I
ROMEO AND JULIET

I.i.82 (9,7) Give me my long sword] The long sword was the sword used in war, which was sometimes wielded with both hands.

I.i.158 (11,2)

As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the same]

I cannot but suspect that some lines are lost, which connected this simile more closely with the foregoing speech; these lines, if such there were, lamented the danger that Romeo will die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities were known to the world.

I.i.176 (12,3)

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see path-ways to his will.]

Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read, to his ill. The present reading has some obscurity; the meaning may be, that love finds out means to pursue his desire. That the blind should find paths to ill is no great wonder.

I.i.183 (13,4) O brawling love! O loving hate!] Of these lines neither the sense nor occasion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an eneny, and to love one and hate another is no such uncommon state, as can deserve all this toil of antithesis.

I.i.192 (14,5) Why, such is love's transgression] Such is the consequence of unskilful and mistaken kindness. (see 1765, VIII, 12, 2)

1.1.198 (14,6) Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes] The author may mean being purged of smoke, but it is perhaps a meaning never given to the word in any other place. I would rather read, Being urged, a fire sparkling. Being excited and inforced. To urge the fire is the technical term.

I.i.199 (14,7) Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears] As this line stands single, it is likely that the foregoing or following line that rhym'd to it, is lost.

I.i.206 (14,8) Tell me in sadness] That is, tell me gravely, tell me in seriousness.

I.i.217 (15,1) in strong proof] In chastity of proof, as we say in armour of proof.

I.i.222 (15,2)

O, she is rich in beauty; only poor
That when she dies, with beauty dies her store]

Mr. Theobald reads, "With her dies beauties store;" and is followed by the two succeeding editors. I have replaced the old reading, because I think it at least as plausible as the correction. She is rich, says he, in beauty, and only poor in being subject to the lot of humanity, that her store, or riches, can be destroyed by death, who shall, by the same blow, put an end to beauty.

I.ii.15 (17,2) She is the hopeful lady of my earth] The lady of his earth is an expression not very intelligible, unless he means that she is heir to his estate, and I suppose no man ever called his lands his earth. I will venture to propose a bold change:

She is the hope and stay of my full years.

I.ii.25 (18,3) Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light] [W: dark even] But why nonsense [Warburton's comment]? Is any thing mere commonly said, than that beauties eclipse the sun? Has not Pope the thought and the word?

"Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous ray,
"And spe'd those eyes that must eclipse the day."

Both the old and the new reading are philosophical nonsense, but they are both, and both equally poetical sense.

I.ii.26 (18,4) Such comfort as do lusty young men feel] To say, and to say in pompous words, that a young man shall feel as much in an assembly of beauties, as young men feel in the month of April, is surely to waste sound upon a very poor sentiment. I read,

Such comfort as do lusty yeomen feel.

You shall feel from the sight and conversation of these ladies, such hopes of happiness and such pleasure, as the farmer receives from the spring, when the plenty of the year begins, and the prospect of the harvest fills him with delight.

I.ii.32 (18,5)

Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one.
May stand in number, the' in reckoning none]

The first of these lines I do not understand. The old folio gives no help; the passage is there, Which one more view. I can offer nothing better than this:

Within your view of many, mine being one,
May stand in number, &c.

I.iii.13 (22,1) to my teen] To my sorrow.

I.iii.66 (24,4) It is an honour] The modern editors all read, it is an honour. I have restored the genuine word ["hour"], which is more seemly from a girl to her mother. Your, fire, and such words as are vulgarly uttered in two syllables, are used as dissyllables by Shakespeare. [The first quarto reads honour; the folio hour. I have chosen the reading of the quarto. STEEVENS.] (rev. 1778, X, 28, 2)

I.iii.92 (25,9) That in gold clasps locks in the golden story] The golden story is perhaps the golden legend, a book in the darker ages of popery much read, and doubtless often exquisitely embellished, but of which Canus, one of the popish doctors, proclaims the author to have been homo ferrei oris, plumbei cordis.

I.iv.6 (27,2) like a crow-keeper] The word crow-keeper is explained in Lear.

I.iv.37 (28,8) for I am proverb'd with a grand-sire phrase] The grandsire phrase is—The black ox has trod upon my foot.

I.iv.42 (30,1) Or (save your reverence) love] The word or obscures the sentence; we ahould read O! for or love. Mercutio having called the affection vith which Romeo was entangled by so disrespectful a word as mire, cries out,

O! save your reverence, love.

I.iv.84 (34,7) Spanish blades] A sword is called a toledo, from the excellence of the Toletan steel. So Gratius,

"—Ensis Toletanus
"Unda Tagi non est alie celebranda metallo,
Utilis in cives est ibi lamna sues."

I.iv.113 (35,9) Direct my sail:] [I have restored this reading from the elder quarto, as being more congruous to the metaphor in the preceding line. Suit is the reading of the folio. STEEVENS.]

Direct my suit! Guide the sequel of the adventure.

I.v.27 (37,4)

You are welcome, gentlemen. Come musicians, play.
A ball! a ball! Give room. And foot it, girls]

These two lines, omitted by the modern editors, I have replaced from the folio.

I.v.32 (37, 6) good cousin Capulet] This cousin Capulet is unkle in the paper of invitation; but as Capulet is described as old, cousin is probably the right word in both places. I know not how Capulet and his lady might agree, their ages were very disproportionate; he has been past masking for thirty years, and her age, as she tells Juliet, is but eight-and-twenty.

II.Prologue (42,3) Enter CHORUS] The use of this chorus is not easily discovered; it conduces nothing to the progress of the play, but relates what is already known, or what the next scenes will shew; and relates it without adding the improvement of any moral sentiment.

II.ii.1 (45,1) He jests at scars] That is, Mercutio jests, whom he overheard.

II.ii.7 (45,2) Be not her maid] Be not a votary to the moon, to Diana.

II.ii.10 (45,3)

It is my lady; O! it is my love;
O, that she knew we were!]

This line and half I have replaced.

II.ii.39 (47,7) Thou art thyself, though not a Montague] I think the true reading is,

Thou art thyself, then not a Montague.

Thou art a being of peculiar excellence, and hast none of the malignity of the family, from which thou hast thy name.—Hanmer reads,

Thour't not thyself so, though a Montague.

II.iii.15 (53,6) the powerful grace, that lies/In plants] Efficacious virtue.

II.iii.27 (53,7) Two such opposed foes encamp them still] [W: opposed kin] Foes may be the right reading, or kings, but I think kin can hardly be admitted. Two kings are two opposite powers, two contending potentates, in both the natural and moral world. The word encamp is proper to commanders. (see 1765, VIII, 46, 2)

II.iv.20 (57,3) courageous captain of compliments] A complete master of all the laws of ceremony, the principal man in the doctrine of punctilio.

"A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
"Have chose as umpire;"

says our author of Don Armado, the Spaniard, in Love's Labour Lost.

II.iv.27 (57,6) the hay!] All the terms of the modern fencing-school were originally Italian; the rapier, or small thrusting sword, being first used in Italy. The hay is the word hai, you have it, used when a thrust reaches the antagonist, from which our fencers, on the same occasion, without knowing, I suppose, any reason for it, cry out, ha!

II.iv.35 (58,9) these pardonnez-moy's] Pardonnez-moi became the language of doubt or hesitation among men of the sword, when the point of honour was grown so delicate, that no other mode of contradiction would be endured.

II.iv.64 (59,3) then is my pump wall flower'd] Here is a vein of wit too thin to be easily found. The fundamental idea is, that Romeo wore pinked pumps, that is, pumps punched with holes in figures.

II.iv.87 (60,7) a wit of cheverel] Cheverel is soft-leather for gloves.

II.iv.138 (62,8) No hare, Sir] Mercutio having roared out, So ho! the cry of the sportsmen when they start a hare; Romeo asks what he has found. And Mercutio answers, No hare, &c. The rest is a series of quibbles unworthy of explanation, which he who does not understand, needs not lament his ignorance.

II.iv.162 (63,1) none of his skains-mates] The word skains-mate, I do not understand, but suppose that skains was some low play, and skains-mate, a companion at such play.

II.iv.200 (64,2) like a tackled stair] Like stairs of rope in the tackle of a ship.

II.iv.222 (65,4) Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the nonce; I know it begins with another letter] This passage is thus in the old folio. A mocker, that's the dog's name. R is for the no, I know it begins with some other letter. In this copy the error is but small. I read, Ah, mocker. that's the dog's name. R is for the nonce, I know it begins with another letter. For the nonce, is for some design, for a sly trick.

II.vi.15 (70,2) Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow] He that travels too fast is as long before he comes to the end of his journey, as he that travels slow. Precipitation produces mishap.

III.i.2 (71,1) The day is hot] It is observed, that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer.

III.i.124 (75,6) This day's black fate on more days does depend] This day's unhappy destiny hangs over the days yet to come. There will yet be more mischief.

III.i.141 (78,7) Oh! I am fortune's fool] I am always running in the way of evil fortune, like the fool in the play. Thou art death's fool, in Measure for Measure. See Dr. Warburton's note.

III.i.153 (77,8) as thou art true] As thou art just and upright.

III.i.159 (77,9) How nice the quarrel] How slight, how unimportant, how petty. So in the last act,

The letter was not nice, but full of charge
Of dear import.

III.i.182 (78,2) Affection makes him false] The charge of falshood on Bonvolio, though produced at hazard, is very just. The author, who seems to intend the character of Bonvolio as good, meant perhaps to shew, how the best minds, in a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality.

III.i.193 (78,3) I have an interest in your hate's proceeding: Sir Thomas Hanmer saw that this line gave no sense, and therefore put, by a very easy change,

I have an interest in your heat's proceeding!

which is undoubtedly better than the old reading which Dr. Warburton has followed; but the sense yet seems to be weak, and perhaps a more licentious correction is necessary. I read therefore,

I had no interest in your heat's preceding.

This, says the prince, is no quarrel of mine, I had no interest in your former discord; I suffer merely by your private animosity.

III.ii.5 (79,3) Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,/That run-away's eyes may wink] [Warburton explained the "run-away" as the "sun"] I am not satisfied with this explanation, yet have nothing better to propose.

III.ii.10 (80,4) Come, civil night] Civil is grave, decently solemn.

III.ii.14 (80,5) unmann'd blood] Blood yet unacquainted with man.

III.ii.25 (81,6) the garish sun] Milton had this speech in his thoughts when he wrote Il Penseroso.

"—Civil night,
"Thou sober-suited matron."—Shakespeare.
"Till civil-suited morn appear."—Milton.
"Pay no worship to the gairish sun."—Shakespeare.
"Hide me from day's gairish eye."—Milton.

III.ii.46 (82,7) the death-darting eye of cockatrice] [The strange lines that follow here in the common books are not in the old edition. POPE.] The strange lines are these: