better of you than you have [deserved] or will deserve at my hands."
I will assist Mr. Ingleby's position with another example from Rich. II., Act V. Sc. 5.:
" · · · · · like silly beggars,
Who sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,
That many have [sat] and others must sit there."
And even from a much later writer, Bolingbroke:
"This dedication may serve for almost any book that has, is, or shall be published."
Where we must supply been after has. But in the passage I attempted, and I think successfully, to set right, admitting that custom would allow of the ellipsis of the participle been, after the auxiliary have, to what can "am, have, and will be" possibly refer?
" · · · · · I do professe
That for your highness' good, I euer labour'd
More then mine owne, that am, haue, and will be."
What? Add true at the end of the line, and it mars the verse, but make the probable correction of true for haue, and you get excellent sense without any ellipsis. I am as averse to interpolation or alteration of the text, when sense can by any rational supposition be made of it, as my opponent, or any true lover of the poet and the integrity of his language, can possibly be; but I see nothing rational in refusing to correct an almost self-evident misprint, which would redeem a fine passage that otherwise must always remain a stumbling-block to the most intelligent reader. We have all I trust but one object, i. e. to free the text of our great poet from obvious errors occasioned by extremely incorrect printing in the folios, and at the same time to strictly watch over all attempts at its corruption by unnecessary meddling. This, and not the displaying of our own ingenuity in conjectures, ought to be our almost sacred duty; at least, I feel conscious that it is mine.
"That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain."
The notable quotation of this line by the Earl of Derby, in the Lords, on Monday evening, April 25, has once more reminded me of my unanswered Query respecting it, Vol. vi., p. 270.
On the 26th February (Vol. vii., p. 217.) Mr. Collier was good enough to say, that his only reason for not answering it was, that he had not then within his reach the copy of "N. & Q." wherein it had been proposed; politely adding, that if I would reprint the Query, he would at once answer it.
Supposing, however, that Mr. Collier's absence from his library would be only temporary, I deemed it less troublesome to the Editor of "N. & Q." to wait until Mr. Collier could refer to the Query, as already printed.
Two months have since elapsed, and I now no longer hesitate to ask the Editor for an opportunity of again referring to it, trusting that a sufficient excuse will be found in the importance of the subject, as affecting the fundamental sense of a passage in Shakspeare.
Leeds.
Mr. J. Payne Collier's "Notes and Emendations."—There can be no doubt that many of these emendations are rational and judicious; but I cannot help thinking, on the whole, that Mr. Collier has rather overrated their value, and placed too implicit faith in the infallibility of his unknown guide. At all events, there is not a shadow of authority given for any one of the corrections, and we have therefore a full right to try them, as the lawyers would say, "upon the merits;" or, in other words, to treat them as mere speculative alterations, and to adopt or reject them, as may appear advisable in each particular case. It is difficult to conjecture what can have been the position in life, or the occupation of this mysterious annotator. That his pursuits were not purely literary, I think is plain: first, from the very circumstance of his not authenticating any of his notes, which a literary inquirer would certainly have done; and, secondly, from the very minute attention which is paid to the business of the scene and the movements of the actors. These considerations, coupled with the fact of his frequently striking out whole passages of the text (which a literary enthusiast would not have done), would at first lead us to suppose that the writer was a theatrical manager, and that the alterations were made to suit either the fancies, or perhaps the peculiar qualifications of certain performers. But in this case one can hardly suppose that the remarks would have extended to more than a certain number of plays, which were most frequently acted. Thus much, however, appears certain, that the commentaries are rather those of an habitual play-goer, than of a studious critic; and it will be easy to show that a great portion of the new readings he proposes are really changes for the worse, while a still larger number are at least unnecessary! I shall content myself with only a few instances, on this occasion, as I am unwilling to encroach too far on your space; but I can easily multiply them, if I am encouraged to renew the subject.
In the first place, I differ from Mr. Collier entirely as to the famous passage from Henry VIII., p. 324., which he brings so prominently forward as to give it special notice in his Introduction. To me, I confess, the phrase—
"To steal from spiritual labour a brief span,"
appears quite tame and poor in comparison with
"To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span,"
and, moreover, destroys all the poetry of the thought. Nor can I see the slightest difficulty in the sense of the original passage. The king means to say that Wolsey cannot steal from the little leisure afforded him by his spiritual labours "a brief span, to keep his earthly audit:" and surely this is much more poetical than the substituted passage.
In p. 323., from the same play, we have—
"to the sharp'st kind of justice,"
transformed to "sharp'st knife of justice:" but I cannot assent to this change. The obvious meaning of the poet is, that the contempt of the world, "shutting all doors" against the accused, is a sharper kind of justice than any which the law could inflict: but, to be given up to "the sharp'st knife of justice" could only mean, being consigned to the public executioner,—which was just what Katherine was deprecating.
In p. 325. the lines relating to Wolsey's foundations at Ipswich and Oxford are printed thus in the folio—
"one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it:"
that is, unwilling to outlive the virtues which prompted it,—a passage teeming with poetical feeling: but the commentator has ruthlessly altered it to—
"Unwilling to outlive the good man did it;"
which, I submit, not only destroys all the poetry, but is decidedly not English!
The next passage I would notice is from Much Ado about Nothing, p. 76. How, I would ask, can the phrase—
"And sorrow wag,"
be a misprint for "call sorrow joy?" No compositor, or scribe either, could possibly be misled by any sound from the "reader" into such a mistake as that! The words "and sorrow wag," I admit, are not sense; but the substitution of "call sorrow joy" strikes me as bald and common-place in the extreme, and there is no pretence for its having any authority. If, then, we are to have a mere fanciful emendation, why not "bid sorrow wag?" This would be doing far less violence to the printed text, for it would only require the alteration of two letters
