G. 388. W.357.-0 these women-their very substance was quicksands. Mr. Weber has not the least idea of his author's meaning. I have already lamented the necessity of noticing these apparently slight variations; but there is no escaping from it with any justice either to Ford or myself. G.390. W.359.-Fer. Shall I speak? Shall I? This is far from Ferentes' meaning; whose thoughts run on something very different from speaking. Read: Shall I? Speak, shall I ?-— G. 391. W.359.—And I tasted enough. Read: And I have tasted enough. G. 392. W.360.-How shy be that, la! "This is the only sense I could make of the original, which stands thus-How shey by that, la." If the reader will turn to the passage, he will discover nothing like sense in Mr. Weber's emendation. Read: How say you by that, la? and the sense is-What do you mean by that? G.392. W.360.-Thou art as fretting as an old gogram. A prim old lady." ❝ i, e. Ridiculous! Gogram is a species of taffeta, gummed, like most of the silks and velvets in those days of stiffness and brocade; and therefore remarkably obnoxious to cracking and fretting. It is mentioned by Swift in his tale of Baucis now become a vicar's wife "Plain Goody would no longer down, G. 393. W.361.-I have never found it. Read: I never found it. G. 393. W.361.-I would change. Read: I should change; which restores the sense. G. 399. W.366.-I am too much acquainted in the G.399. W.366. passage to process. thou hast made me laugh Beside my spleen. Anciently the spleen was supposed to be the seat of laughter." And therefore the Duke laughs beside it! But what did Mr. Weber think he had explained? G.399. W. 366.—Fernando, thou hast heard The pleasant humour of Mauruccio's dotage. That could not be; for the Duke comes to inform him of it. Read: Fernando, hadst thou heard The pleasant humour of Mauruccio's dotage, G. 400. W.366.-What counsels hold you now, sirs? Read: What Council hold you now, sirs? G. 401. W.368.—And without our commission!--Say! This word destroys the metre. It might, however, be superadded by the author in revising the play, not thinking that he sinned against the rules of metre."-Poor Ford!— "In this manner we ought probably to account for similar superfluities in Shakspeare's lines, which are so unnecessarily expunged by modern editors"! That two such unskilful and unpractised writers as Shakspeare and Ford should "sin against the rules of metre," without knowing it; and that they should do this more especially in the very attempt to render their poetry more complete, is an admirable conjecture; and does almost as much credit to Mr. Weber's modesty as to his judgment. G. 402. W.369.-Thus bodies walk unsoul d. “A very quaint word, coined by our author." No writer ever coined so many words as Ford, if we believe Mr. Weber; who fathers upon him every word which he cannot find in the commentaries on Shakspeare. But how is unsoul'd (" which signifies," as he says, "without a soul") more quaint than unbreech'd, or unshod, or a hundred other similar compounds, where un is used like the a privative of the Greeks, to express a negative of the simple word? G. 402. W.369.-Beard, be confin'd to neatness, that no hair May stover up, to prick my mistress' lip. "Stover," says Mr. Steevens, " in Cambridgeshire and other counties, signifies hay made of coarse rank grass, such as even cows will not eat." And, as usual, the dictum of Mr. Steevens settles the matter. But what is this to the speaker's meaning? His mistress surely was not about to eat this hay, "which the cows refused," though it might be put to her lips. Not to waste words on a plain passage, stover (which is here a verb) means to stiffen, bristle up, &c. In this sense it was perfectly familiar to Ford. G.403. IV.370.-One, two, three. Let the solemn ass have his full measure. Read: One-two-and three. G. 405. IV.372.-I will have my picture drawn in a square table. "A table signifies here a picture." Here, it certainly signifies no such thing: it means, as it frequently does, the board, or strained canvas, on which the picture was to be painted. To have a picture drawn in a picture, may do very well for Mr. Weber; but is much too bad for Mauruccio. G. 405. IV.372.-Not further, r. No further. G. 405. IV.372.--I will have a clear and most transparent chrystal in the heart. This does not appear very feasible. Read: I will have a clear and most transparent chrystal in the form of a heart. G. 405. I.373.-She shall no oftener powder her hair, surfell her cheeks, &c. On the word powder, we have all Steevens and Malone let loose upon us, not one of whose examples, after all, refers to powdering the hair, (a fashion of recent introduction in Ford's time,) but to the ancient practice of staining it. Surfell, not having the good fortune to be placed in the Index to Shakspeare, is, as usual, fathered on the poet. "As I have not met with this word (surfell) any where else," our critic 66 says, it has occurred to me whether it may not be a word coined by our author, who as we have before seen is very quaintly ingenious in the art." Surfel, or surphule, is so common a word in our old writers, that it may seem almost superfluous to produce any examples of it: yet, as Marston's "Scourge of Villanie" now lies before me, I will give the first two or three that occur; they are all within the compass of a few pages. Again: Again: Smug Lelia Hath stinking lungs, although a simpering grace, "she is so vizarded, So steept in lemon-juice, so surphuled, I cannot see her face." "Hercules Lies streaking brawny limmes in weakening bed, Perfumed, smooth kemb'd, new glazed, fair surfuled." These, I presume, are more than sufficient to prove the extent of Mr. Weber's researches elsewhere. For the meaning of the word, see page 405 of this volume. G. 408. W.375.-Advance the glass, Giacopo, that I may practise, as I pass, to walk a portly grace, like a marquess. "This reminds us strongly of Shakspeare's Richard III. "Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass." This passage may "remind" Mr. Weber of Shakspeare; but certainly never brought that poet to the recollection of any other person. Our critic, however, is so possessed with the resemblance, that he ventures to speculate at large on the subject. "It is the practice," he says, "of the most valuable of Shakspeare's commentators to adduce similar instances, where the poet's lines are ludicrously imitated, as sneers upon him, especially from Fletcher, who was certainly very far from intending to cast ridicule on an author with whom he was on good terms-The bitterness of Ben Johnson against his too powerful rival is well ascertained-But why should we increase Shakspeare's enemies, by an author who was so truly Shakspearian as Fletcher?" To argue with so perpetual a blunderer as Mr. Weber would be to waste both time and patience; or we might ask, with Mr. Gilchrist, why the same measure should not |