hast worn out thy pump; that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular. Rom. O single-soled jest,5 solely singular for the singleness! Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits fail.6 Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace, I have done; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one the other ancient copies, have-Sure wit, follow, &c. What was meant, I suppose, was-Sheer wit! follow, &c. and this corruption may serve to justify an emendation that I have proposed in a passage in Antony and Cleopatra, where I am confident sure was a printer's blunder. See Vol. XIII. Malone. By sure wit might be meant, wit that hits its mark. Steevens. 5 O single-soled jest,] i. e. slight, unsolid, feeble. This compound epithet occurs likewise in Hall's second Book of Satires: "And scorne contempt itselfe that doth excite "Each single-sold squire to set you at so light." Steevens. This epithet is here used equivocally. It formerly signified mean or contemptible; and that is one of the senses in which it is used here. So, in Holinshed's Description of Ireland, p. 23: "which was not unlikely, considering that a meane tower might serve such single soale kings as were at those daies in Ireland." Malone 6 my wits fail.] Thus the quarto, 1597. The quarto, 1599, and the folio—my wits faints. Steevens. 71 if thy wits run the wild-goose chace, I have done;] One kind of horse-race, which resembled the flight of wild-geese, was formerly known by this name. Two horses were started together; and which ever rider could get the lead, the other was obliged to follow him over whatever ground the foremost jockey chose to go. That horse which could distance the other, won the race. See more concerning this diversion in Chambers's Dictionary, last edition, under the article CHACE. This barbarous sport is enumerated by Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, as a recreation much in vogue in his time among gentlemen: "Riding of great horses, running at ring, tilts and tournaments, horse races, wild-goose chases, are disports of great men." P. 226, edit. 1632, fol. This account explains the pleasantry kept up between Romeo and his gay companion. "My wits fail," says Mercutio. Romeo exclaims briskly-"Switch and spurs, switch and spurs." To which Mercutio rejoins-" Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace," &c. H. White. of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: Was I with you there for the goose? Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, when thou wast not there for the goose. Mer. I will bite thee by the ear3 for that jest. Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not.9 Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting;1 it is a most sharp sauce. Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel,2 that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! Rom. I stretch it out for that word-broad: which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.3 Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: for this driveling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.4* 8 I will bite thee by the ear-] So, Sir Epicure Mammon to Face, in Ben Jonson's Alchemist: good goose, bite not.] Is a proverbial expression, to be found in Ray's Collection; and is used in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599. Steevens. 1- a very bitter sweeting;] A bitter sweeting, is an apple of that name. So, in Summer's Last Will and Testament, 1600: as well crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits." Again, in Fair Em, 1631: "And left me such a bitter sweet to knaw upon?" Steevens. 2-a wit of cheverel,] Cheverel is soft leather for gloves. Cheveril is from chevreuil, roebuck. Musgrave. Johnson. 3 proves thee far and wide a broad goose.] To afford some meaning to this poor but intended witticism, Dr. Farmer would read-"proves thee far and wide abroad, goose." 4 Steevens. to hide his bauble in a hole.] It has been already observed by Sir J. Hawkins, in a note on All's Well that Ends Well, Vol. V, p. 283, n. 8, that a bauble was one of the accoutrements of a licensed fool or jester. So again, in Sir William D'Avenant's Albovine, 1629: "For such rich widows there love court fools, and use to play with their baubles." Again, in The longer thou livest, the more Fool thou art, 1570: "And as stark an idiot as ever bare a bable." Steevens. * The quotation from Sir Wm. D'Avenant's Albovine, throws Ben. Stop there, stop there. Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.5 Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large. Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have made it short: for I was come to the whole depth of my tale: and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer." Rom. Here 's goodly geer! Enter Nurse and PETER. Mer. A sail, a sail," a sail! Ben. Two two; a shirt, and a smock. Nurse. Peter! Peter. Anon? Nurse. My fan, Peter.3 Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan 's the fairer of the two. Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. a gleam of light, however dubious, upon this rencontre of wanton wits, that the meaning stands or fully exposed as if illumined by the broad glare of Johnson's reprehension. Am. Ed. 5 against the hair ] A contrepoil: Fr. An expression equivalent to one which we now use-" against the grain. See Vol. III, p. 77, n. 5; and Vol. VIII, p. 294, n. 6. Steevens. I opine, that the commentators, in the present instance, have eschewed to seek the bottom of the poet's meaning: but tuta silentio merces, saith the Roman adage. Amner. 6 to occupy the argument no longer. wanton allusion. See Vol. IX, p. 67, n. 4. Here we have another 7 Mer. A sail, a sail,] Thus the quarto, 1597. In the subsequent ancient copies these words are erroneously given to RoMalone meo. 8 My fan, Peter,] The business of Peter carrying the Nurse's fan, seems ridiculous according to modern manners; but I find such was formerly the practice. In an old pamphlet called The Serving Man's Comfort, 1598, we are informed, "The mistress must have one to carry her cloake and hood, another her fanne." Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: Farmer. "To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan." Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: "If any lady, &c. wants an upright gentleman in the nature of a gentleman-usher, &c. who can hide his face with her fan," &c. Steevens. 9 God ye good den,] i. e. God give you a good even. The first of Nurse. Is it good den? Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial1 is now upon the prick of noon.2 Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you? Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made himself to mar. Nurse. By my troth, it is well said;-For himself to mar, quoth 'a?-Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo? Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him, than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for 'fault of a worse. Nurse. You say well. Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith ; wisely, wisely. Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. Ben. She will indite him to some supper. Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho! Rom. What hast thou found? Mer. No hare, sir;3 unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. these contractions is common among the ancient comick writers. So, in R. Brome's Northern Lass, 1633: "God you good even, sir.” 1 Steevens. 66 hand of the dial &c.] In The Puritan Widow, 1607, which has been attributed to our author, is a similar expression: "- the feskewe of the diall is upon the chrisse-crosse of noon." Steevens. the prick of noon.] I marvel much that mine associates in the task of expounding the darker phrases of Shakspeare, should have overlooked this, which also hath already occurred in King Henry VI, Part III, Act I, sc. iv: 2 "And made an evening at the noon-tide prick." Prick meaneth point, i. e. punctum, a note of distinction in writing, a stop. So, in Timothy Bright's Characterie, or an Arte of Shorte &c. writing by Characters, 12mo. 1588: "If the worde, by reason of tence ende in ed, as I loved, then make a prick in the character of the word, on the left side."-Again: "The present tence wanteth a pricke, and so is knowen from other tences."Again: "A worde of doing, that endeth in ing, as eating, drinking, &c. requireth two prickes under the bodie of the character," Amner. &c. 3 No hare, sir;] Mercutio having roared out, So, ho! the cry of the sportsmen when they start a hare, Romeo asks what he has An old hare hoar, 4 Is very good meat in lent: Is too much for a score, Romeo, will you come to your father's? we 'll to dinner thither. Rom. I will follow you. Mer. Farewel, ancient lady; farewel, lady, lady, lady." [Exeunt MER. and BEN. Nurse. Marry, farewel!6-I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this," that was so full of his ropery ?8 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. Johnson. So ho! is the term made use of in the field when the hare is found in her seat, and not when she is started. A. C. 4 A old hare hoar,] Hoar or hoary, is often used for mouldy, as things grow white from moulding. So, in Pierce Pennyless's Sup plication to the Devil, 1595: “—as hoary as Dutch butter." Again, in F. Beaumont's Letter to Speght on his edition of Chaucer, 1602: "Many of Chaucer's words are become as it were vinew'd and hoarie with over long lying." Again, in Every Man out of his Hnmour: mice and rats "Eat up his grain; or else that it might rot "Within the hoary ricks e'en as it stands." Steevens. These lines appear to have been part of an old song. In the quarto, 1597, we have here this stage-direction; “He walks between them. [i. e. the Nurse and Peter,] and sings." Malone. 5- lady, lady, lady.] The burden of an old song. Steevens. Marry, farewel!] These words I have recovered from the quarto, 1597. Malone. 7 ·what saucy merchant was this, &c.] The term merchant which was, and even now is, frequently applied to the lowest sort of dealers, seems anciently to have been used on these familiar occasions in contradistinction to gentleman; signifying that the person showed by his behaviour he was a low fellow. So, in Churchyard's Chance, 1580: "What sausie merchaunt speaketh now, saied Venus in her rage." The term chap, i. e. chapman, a word of the same import with merchant in its less respectable sense, is still in common use among the vulgar, as a general denomination for any person of whom they mean to speak with freedom or disrespect. Steevens. |