CAP. Soft, take me with you, take me with you,

wife.

How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? doth she not count her bless'd, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought

So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? JUL. Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:

Proud can I never be of what I hate ;

But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. CAP. How now! how now, chop-logick!! What is this?

Proud, and, I thank you,and, I thank you nots-
And yet not proud; 2- Mistress minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's church,
Or, I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow face!3.

1

-chop-logick!] This term, which hitherto has been divided into two words, I have given as one, it being, as I learn from The xxii Orders of Knaves, bl. 1. no date, a nick-name: Choplogyk is he that whan his mayster rebuketh his servaunt for his defawtes, he will gyve hym, xx wordes for one, or elles he wyll bydde the deuylles pater noster in scylence."

In The Contention betwytte Churchyard, and Camell &c. 1560, this word also occurs:

"But you wyl choplogyck

"And be Bee-to-busse," &c, STEEVENS

And yet not proud, &c.] This line is wanting in the folio.

out you baggage!

STEEVENS.

You tallow-face! Such was the indelicacy of the age of Shakspeare, that authors were not contented only to employ these terms of abuse in their own original performances, but even felt no reluctance to introduce them in their versions of the most chaste and elegant of the Greek or Roman Poets. Stanyhurst,

LA. CAP.

Fye, fye! what, are you' 'mad? JUL. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

CAP. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!

I tell thee what,-get thee to church o'Thursday, Or never after look me in the face:

Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;

My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us bless'd,

That God had sent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her:
Out on her, hilding!

NURSE.

God in heaven bless her!

You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

CAP. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your

tongue,

Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. NURSE. I speak no treason.

CAP.

NURSE. May not one speak?

CAP.

O, God ye good den!

Peace, you mumbling fool!

You are too hot.

Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.

LA. CAP.

the translator of Virgil, in 1582, makes Dido call Æneashedgebrat, cullion, and tar-breech, in the course of one speech. Nay, in the Interlude of The Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567, Mary Magdalen says to one of her attendants:

"Horeson, I beshrowe your heart, are you here?"

STEEVENS.

had sent us] So the first quarto, 1597. The subsequent ancient copies read-had lent us. MALONE.

CAP. God's bread! it makes me mad:5 Day, night, late, early,

At home, abroad, alone, in company,

Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now provided
A gentleman of princely parentage,

Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd (as they say,) with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a man,—
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer-I'll not wed,-I cannot love,

5 God's bread! &c.] The first three lines of this speech are formed from the first quarto, and that of 1599, with which the folio concurs. The first copy reads:

"God's blessed mother, wife, it makes me mad,
"Day, night, early, late, at home, abroad,
"Alone, in company, waking or sleeping,
"Still my care hath been to see her match'd."

The quarto, 1599, and the folio, read:

"God's bread, it makes me mad.

Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
"Alone, in company, still my care hath been
"To have her match'd," &c. MALONE.

and having now provided

A gentleman of princely parentage,

A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,

To answer-I'll not wed,-I cannot love,] So, in Romeus and Juliet, 1562:

"Such care thy mother had, so dear thou wert to me,
"That I with long and earnest suit provided have for thee
"One of the greatest lords that wons about this town,
"And for his many virtues' sake a man of great renown;—
and yet thou playest in this case

"The dainty fool and stubborn girl; for want of skill,
"Thou dost refuse thy offer'd weal, and disobey my will.
"Even by his strength I swear that first did give me life,
"And gave me in my youth the strength to get thee on
my wife,

I am too young,-I pray you, pardon me ;—
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me;
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise :
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i' the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,

"Unless by Wednesday next thou bend as I am bent,
"And, at our castle call'd Freetown, thou freely do assent
"To county Paris' suit,-

Not only will I give all that I have away,

"From thee to those that shall me love, me honour and obey;

"But also to so close and to so hard a gale

"I shall thee wed for all thy life, that sure thou shalt not
fail

"A thousand times a day to wish for sudden death :-
"Advise thee well, and say that thou art warned now,
"And think not that I speak in sport, or mind to break
my vow."

There is a passage in an old play called Wily Beguil'd, so nearly resembling this, that one poet must have copied from the other. Wily Beguil'd was on the stage before 1596, being mentioned by Nashe in his Have with you to Saffron Walden, printed in that year. In that play Gripe gives his daughter Lelia's hand to a suitor, which she plucks back; on which her Nurse says:

She'll none, she thanks you, sir.

"Gripe. Will she none? why, how now, I say?

"What, you pouting, peevish thing, you untoward baggage,

"Will you not be ruled by your father?

"Have I ta'en care to bring you up to this?

"And will you doe as you list?

66

Away, I say; hang, starve, beg, be gone;

"Out of my sight! pack, I say:

"Thou ne'er get'st a pennyworth of my goods for this.

"Think on't; I do not use to jest:

"Be gone, I say, I will not hear thee speake."

MALONE.

Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn. [Exit.

JUL. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?"
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

LA. CAP. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a

word;

Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

[Exit.

JUL. O God!-O nurse! how shall this be pre

vented?

My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth?-comfort me, counsel me.-
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself!-

What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, nurse.

NURSE.

'Faith, here 'tis: Romeo' Is banished; and all the world to nothing, That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,

That sees into the bottom of my grief?] So, in King John, in two parts, 1591:

"Ah boy, thy yeeres, I see, are far too greene,

"To look into the bottom of these cares." MALONE.

8 In that dim monument &c.] The modern editors read dun monument. I have replaced dim from the old quarto, 1597, and the folio. STEEVENS.