Thou offer'ft fairly to thy brother's wedding; Play, mufick; and you brides and bridegrooms all, And thrown into neglect the pompous court. JAQ. DE B. He hath. [To the duke. JAQ. To him will I : out of these convertites I am for other than for dancing measures. JAQ. To fee no paftime, I-what you I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [To Orla. [To Oli, [To Silv. [To the Clo. would have, [Exit. DUKE fen. Proceed, proceed; we will begin these rites; As, we do truft, they'll end in true delights. EPILOGUE. I Ros. It is not the fashion to fee the lady the Epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the Prologue. If it be true, that "good wine needs no bun," 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue. Yet to good wine they do ufe good bushes: and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a cafe am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor can infinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnish'd like a beggar; therefore to beg will not become me. My way is to conjure you, and I'll begin with the women. charge you, O women, for the love you bear the men, to like as much of this play as pleases you and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women (as I perceive by your fimpring, none of you hate them) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kifs as many of you as had beards that pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that I defy'd not: and, I am fure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or fweet breaths, will for my kind offer, when I make curt'fy bid me farewel, [Exeunt omnes. NOT E S ON THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. The Reader to find the Line referred to, must reckon the Lines of the Text only, beginning at the Top of the Page, and omitting all Lines relating to the Entry of Characters, &c. The Notes not in Dr. JOHNSON's Edition are marked with an Afterifk [*] thus. JUL ULIA's love-adventures being in fome refpects the fame with thofe of Viola in "Twelfth-Night," the fame novel might give rife to them both; and Valentine's falling amongst out-laws, and becoming their captain, is an incident that has fome refemblance to one in the "Arcadia," (Book 1, Chap. 6) where Pyrocles heads the Helots: all the other circumftances which conftitute the fable of this play, are, probably, of the Poet's own invention. CAPELL.* It is obfervable (I know not for what cause) that the ftile of this comedy is lefs figurative, and more natural and unaffected than the greater part of this Author's, tho' fuppofed to be one of the firft he wrote. POPE. It may very well be doubted, whether Shakespear had any other hand in this play than the enlivening it with fome fpeeches and lines thrown in here and there, which are eafily diftinguished as being of a different ftamp from the reft. HANMER. To the obfervation of Mr. Pope, which is very juft, Mr. Theobald has added, that this is one of Shakespear's "worst plays, and is lefs corrupted than any other." Mr. Upton peremptorily determines," that if any proof can be drawn from manner and ftile, this play must be fent packing and feek for its parent elfewhere. How otherwife, fays he, do painters diftinguish copies from originals, and have not authors their peculiar stile and manner from which a true cri B tick can form as unerring a judgment as a Painter ?" I am afraid this illuftration of a critick's fcience will not prove what is defired. A Painter knows a copy from an original by rules fomewhat resembling those by which criticks know a tranflation, which if it be literal, and literal it must be to resemble the copy of a picture, will be eafily diftinguished. Copies are known from originals even when the painter copies his own picture; so if an author should literally tranflate his work he would lofe the manner of an original. Mr. Upton confounds the copy of a picture with the imitation of a painter's manner. Copies are easily known, but good imitations are not detected with equal certainty, and are, by the best judges, often mistaken. Nor is it true that the writer has always peculiarities equally distinguishable with those of the painter. The peculiar manner of each arifes from the defire, natural to every performer, of facilitating his fubfequent works by recurrence to his former ideas; this recurrence produces that repetition which is called habit. The painter, whofe work is partly intellectual and partly manual, has habits of the mind, the eye and the hand, the writer has only habits of the mind. Yet, fome painters have differed as much from themselves as from any other; and I have been told, that there is little resemblance between the first works of Raphael and the laft. The fame variation may be expected in writers; and if it be true, as it feems, that they are less fubject to habit, the difference between their works may be yet greater. But by the internal marks of a compofition we may dif cover the author with probability, though feldom with certainty. When I read this play I cannot but think that I difcover both in the ferious and ludicrous fcenes, the language and fentiments of Shakefpear. It is not indeed one of his moft powerful effufions, it has neither many diversities of character, nor ftriking delineations of life, but it abounds in your beyond most of his plays, and few have more lines or paffages which, fingly confidered, are eminently beautiful. I am yet inclined to believe that it was not very fuccessful, and fufpect that it has escaped corruption, only because being feldom played it was lefs expofed to the hazards of tranfcription. JOHNSON. P. 161. L. 8. -fhapeless idleness] The expreffion is fine, as implying that idleness prevents the giving any form or character to the manners. WARB. P. 162. Lines 5 to 13, inclufive, rejected by HANM.* L. II. nay, give me not the Boots] A proverbial Expreffion, tho' now difufed, fignifying, don't make a laughing Stock of me; don't play upon me. The French have a Phrafe, Bailler foin en Corne; which Cotgrave thus interprets, To give one the Boots; to fell him a Bargain. THEOB. L. 19. However, but a folly] This love will end in a foolish action, to produce which you are long to spend your wit, or it will end in the lofs of your quit, which will be over-powered by the folly of love. JOHNS. P. 163. L. 22. Made wit with mufing weak] For made read make. Thou, Julia, haft made me war with good counfel, and make wit weak with mufing. JOHNS. Ibid. This whole Scene, like many others in thefe plays (fome of which I believe were written by Shakespear, and others interpolated by the players) is compofed of the lowest and moft trifiing conceits, to be accounted for only from the grofs tafte of the age he lived in; Populo ut placerent. I wish had authority to leave them out; but I have done all I could, fet a mark of reprobation upon them throughout this edition. POPE. Ibid.] That this, like many other Scenes, is mean and vulgar, will be univerfally allowed; but that it was interpolated by the players feems advanced without any proof, only to give a greater licence to criticism. JOHNS. P. 164. L. 20. I, a loft Mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd Mutton;] Speed calls himself a loft Mutton, because he had loft his Mafter, and becaufe Protheus had been proving him a Sheep. But why does he call the Lady a lac'd Mution? Wenchers are to this Day called Muiton-mongers: and con fequently the Object of their Paflion muft, by the Metaphor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave, in his English-French Dictionary, explains lac'd Mutton, Une Garfe, putain, fille de Joye. And Mr. Motteux has rendered this Paffage of RabeLaís, in the Prologue of his fourth Book, Cailles coiphees mig nonnement chartans, in this manner; Coated Quails and laced |