King. Would, I were with him! he would always fay, Methinks, I hear him now; his plaufive words I, after him, do after him wish too, Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home, 2 Lord. You're loved, Sir; They, that leaft lend it you, fhall lack you firit. He was much fam'd. Ber. Some fix months fince, my Lord. - King. If he were living, I would try him yet;— Lend me an arm;- -the reft have worn me out With feveral applications—nature and sickness Debate it at their leifure-Welcome, count, My fon's no dearer. 2 Ber. Thank your Majefty. -Whole judgments are Mere fathers of their garments.] Who have no other use of their [Flourish. Exeunt. faculties, than to invent new modes of drefs. SCENE Count. Changes to the Countess's at Roufillon. I Enter Countefs, Steward and Clown. 3 Will now hear; what fay you of this gen- 4 Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my paft endeavours; for then we wound our modefty, and make foul the clearness of our defervings, when of ourselves we publish them. Count. What does this knave here? get you gone, Sirrah; the complaints, I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flowness that I do not, for, I know, you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yours. 3 Steward and Clown. ] A Clown in Shakespeare is commonly taken for a licensed jefter, or domeftick fool. We are not to wonder that we find this character often in his plays, fince fools were, at that time, maintained in all great families, to keep up merriment in the house. In the picture of Sir Thomas Moore's family, by Hans Holbein, the only fervant reprefented is Paton the fool. This is a proof of the familiarity to which they were admitted, not by the great only, but the wife. In fome plays, a fervant, or ruftic, of remarkable petulance and freedom of fpeech, is like wife called a Clown. 4 To even your content.] To aft up to your defires. U 3 Clo. 5 you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make fuch knaveries YOURS.] Well, but if he had folly to commit them, he neither wanted knavery, nor any thing else, fure, to make them his own. This nonfenfe fhould be read, To make fuch knaveries YARE; nimble, dextrous, i. e. Tho' you be fool enough to commit knaverics, yet you have quicknefs enough to commit them dextroufly: for this obfervation was to let us into his character. But now, tho' this be fet right, and, I dare fay, in Shake pear's own words, yet the former part of the fentence will still be inaccurate-you lack not folly to commit THEM. Them, what? the fenfe requires knaveries, but the ante cedent ! Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a poor fellow. Count. Well, Sir. Clo. No, Madam; 'tis not fo well that I am poor, tho' many of the rich are damn'd; but, if I have your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Ibel the woman and I will do as we may. Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? Clo. I do beg your good will in this cafe. Cl. In Ifbel's cafe, and mine own; service is no heritage, and, I think, I fhall never have the bleffing of God, 'till I have iffue of my body; for they fay, bearns are bleffings. Count. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go, that the devil drives. Count. Is this all your worfhip's reason? Clo. Faith, Madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. Count. May the world know them? Clo. I have been, Madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent. Count. Thy marriage, fooner than thy wickedness. Clo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's fake. Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. cedent referr'd to, is complaints. But this was certainly a negligence of Shakespear's, and therefore to be left as we find it. And the reader, who cannot fee that this is an inaccuracy which the Author might well commit, and the other what he never could, has either read Shakespear very little, or greatly mifpent his pains. The principal office of a critick is to diftinguish between these two things. But 'tis that branch of criticism which no precepts can teach the writer to difcharge, or the reader to judge of. WARBURTON. Cla. Clo. Y'are fhallow, Madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of; he, that eares my land, fpares my team, and gives me leave to inn the crop; If I be his cuckold, he's my drudge; he, that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he, that cherisheth my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo, he that kiffes my wife, is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan, and old Poyfam the papift, howfoe'er their hearts are fever'd in religion, their heads are both one; they may joul horns together, like any deer i' th' herd. Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave? Clo. A prophet, I, Madam; and I speak the truth the next way; "For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true "fhall find; "Your marriage comes by deftiny, your cuckow fings by kind. Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'll talk with you more anon. 6 A prophet, I, Madam; and I speak the truth the next way.] It is a fuperftition, which has run through all ages and people, that natural fools have fomething in them of divinity. On which account they were esteemed facred: Travellers tell us in what esteem the Turks now hold them; nor had they lefs honour paid them heretofore in France, as appears from the old word Benet, for a natural fool. Hence it was that Pantagruel, in Rablais, ad vised Panurge to go and confult the fool Triboulet as an oracle; which gives occafion to a fatirical Stroke upon the privy council of Francis the First-Par l'avis, confeil, prediction des fols vos fçavez quants princes, &c. ont efté confervez, &c.- -The phrase-speak the truth the next way, means directly; as they do who are only the inftruments or canals of others; fuch as infpired perfons were fupposed to be. WARBURTON. U 4 Stew Stew. May it please you, Madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to speak. Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean. Clo. Was this fair face the cause, quoth fhe, "Why the Grecians facked Troy? "Fond done, fond done ;-for Paris, he, "Was this King Priam's joy. "With that the fighed as the ftood, "And gave this fentence then; * Among nine bad if one be good, "There's yet one good in ten. 8 [Singing. Count. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the fong, Sirrah. Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam, which is a purifying o' th' fong: 'would, God would ferve the world fo all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythewoman, if I were the Parfon; one in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but every blazing ftar, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lot This second stanza of the ballad is turned to a joke upon the women: a confeffion, that there was one good in ten. Whereon the Countess obferved, that he corrupted the fong; which fhews the fong faid, Nine grod in ten. If one be bad amongst nine good, There's but one bad in ten. This relates to the ten fons of Priam, who all behaved themfelves well but Paris. For, tho' he once had fifty, yet at this unfortunate period of his reign he had but ten; Agathon, Antiphon, Deipkobus, Dius, Hedor, Helenus, Hippothous, Pemmon, Paris, and Polites. WARBURTON. tery |