only drink for, look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. FRAN. What, sir? POINS. [Within] Francis! "Ro. Bastard wine; for if it had been truely begotten, it would not have been asham'd to come in. Here's sixpence to pay for the nursing the bastard." Again, in The Fair Maid of the West, 1631: "I'll furnish you with bastard, white or brown," &c. In the ancient metrical romance of The Squhr of Low Degre, bl. 1. no date, is the following catalogue of wines : "You shall have Rumney and Malmesyne, "Both Ypocrasse and Vernage wyne : "Both Algrade and Respice eke, 66 Pyment also and Garnarde: "Wyne of Greke and Muscadell, "Both Clare-Pyment and Rochell, "The rede your stomach to defye, "And pottes of Osey set you by." STEEVENS. Maison Rustique, translated by Markham, 1616, p. 635, says: such wines are called mungrell, or bastard wines, which (betwixt the sweet and astringent ones) have neither manifest sweetness, nor manifest astriction, but indeed participate and contain in them both qualities." TOLLET. Barrett, however, in his Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, says, that " bastarde is muscadell, sweet wine." STEEVENS. So also, in Stowe's Annals, 867: "When an argosie came with Greek and Spanish wines, viz. muscadel, malmsey, sack, and bastard," &c. MALONE. Bastard wines are said, by Olaus Magnus, to be Spanish wines in general. He speaks of them with almost as much enthusiasm as Falstaff does of sack: "Vina igitur Hispanica etsi Bastarda nomine, a negotiatoribus in aquilonem delata appellantur: tamen sapore, colore, et odore, et excellentiam dulcedinis, ab omnibus legitima reputantur. Est enim suave, pingue, mollitèr crassum, vivacitate firmissimum, nare violentum, colore quam perspicuum; quod ita redolet ore ructatum ut merito illi excellentior aliqua æstimatio debeatur," &c. Olai Magni Gent. Septentrionalium Historia. Basiliæ, 1567, p. 520. BOSWELL. P. HEN. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear them call? [Here they both call him; the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go. Enter VINTner. VINT. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRAN.] My lord, old sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in ? P. HEN. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit Vintner.] Poins! Re-enter POINS. POINS. Anon, anon, sir. P. HEN. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door; Shall we be merry? POINS. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue? P. HEN. I am now of all humours, that have show'd themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter FRANCIS, with Wine.] What's o'clock, Francis? FRAN. Anon, anon, sir. P. HEN. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is-up-stairs, and down-stairs; his eloquence, the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind', the Hotspur of the north; I 66 I am not yet of Percy's mind,] The drawer's answer had interrupted the prince's train of discourse. He was proceeding thus: "I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours;—I am not yet of Percy's mind;" that is, 'I am willing to indulge myself in gaiety and frolick, and try all the varieties of human life.' "I am not yet of Percy's mind,"—who thinks all the time lost that is not spent in bloodshed, forgets de he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife,-Fye upon this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn shall play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo," says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. Enter FALSTAFF, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto. POINS. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? FAL. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks. P. HEN. Did'st thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the cency and civility, and has nothing but the barren talk of a brutal soldier. 2 JOHNSON. - Rivo,] This was perhaps the cant of the English taverns. JOHNSON. This conjecture Dr. Farmer has supported by a quotation from Marston : "If thou art sad at others' fate, "Rivo, drink deep, give care the mate." I find the same word used in the comedy of Blurt Master Constable, 1602: Yet to endear ourselves to thy lean acquaintance, cry rivo ho! laugh and be fat," &c. Again, in Marston's What You Will, 1607: that rubs his guts, claps his paunch, and cries rivo," &c. Again: "Rivo, here's good juice, fresh borage, boys." Again, Sing, sing, or stay: we'll quaffe, or any thing: 66 66 Rivo, Saint Mark!" STEEVENS. 3-nether-stocks,] Nether-stocks are stockings. See King Lear, vol. xi. p. 108, n. 2. STEEvens. sweet tale of the sons! if thou didst, then behold that compound. 4 Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitifulhearted Titan! that melted at the sweet tale of the SONS!] The usual reading has hitherto been-" the sweet tale of the sun." The present change will be accounted for in the course of the following annotations. STEEVENS. All that wants restoring is a parenthesis, into which (pitifulhearted Titan!) should be put. Pitiful-hearted means only amorous, which was Titan's character: the pronoun that refers to butter. The heat of the sun is figuratively represented as a lovetale, the poet having before called him pitiful-hearted, or amorous. WARBURTON. The same thought, as Dr. Farmer observed to me, is found among Turberville's Epitaphs, p. 142: "It melts as butter doth against the sunne." The reader, who inclines to Dr. Warburton's opinion, will please to furnish himself with some proof that pitiful-hearted was ever used to signify amorous, before he pronounces this learned critick's emendation to be just. In the oldest copy, the contested part of the passage appears thus: at the sweet tale of the sonnes." Our author might have written-" pitiful-hearted Titan, who melted at the sweet tale of his son; i. e. of Phaeton, who, by a plausible story, won on the easy nature of his father so far, as to obtain from him the guidance of his own chariot for a day. As gross a mythological corruption as the foregoing, occurs in "The arm-strong offspring of the doubted knight, Thus all the copies, ancient and modern. But I should not hesi- STEEVENS. I have followed the reading of the original copy in 1598, rejecting only the double genitive, for it reads-of the son's. Sun, which is the reading of the folio, derives no authority from its being found in that copy; for the change was made arbitrarily in the quarto 1604, and adopted of course in that of 1608 and 1613, from the latter of which the folio was printed; in consequence of which the accumulated errors of the five preceding editions were incorporated in the folio copy of this play. Mr. Theobald reads-" pitiful-hearted butter, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun;"-which is not so absurd as—“ piti FAL. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: There is nothing but roguery to be found in vil ful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun,"— but yet very exceptionable; for what is the meaning of butter melting at a tale? or what idea does the tale of the sun convey? Dr. Warburton, who, with Mr. Theobald, reads-sun, has extracted some sense from the passage by placing the words—“ pitifulhearted Titan in a parenthesis, and referring the word that to butter; but then, besides that his interpretation pitiful-hearted, which he says means amorous, is unauthorized and inadmissible, the same objection will lie to the sentence when thus regulated, that has already been made to the reading introduced by Mr. Theobald. The prince undoubtedly, as Mr. Theobald observes, by the words, "Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?" alludes to Falstaff's entering in a great heat, "his fat dripping with the violence of his motion, as butter does with the heat of the sun." Our author here, as in many other places, having started an idea, leaves it, and goes to another that has but a very slight connection with the former. Thus the idea of butter melted by Titan, or the Sun, suggests to him the idea of Titan's being melted or softened by the tale of his son, Phaëton: a tale, which undoubtedly Shakspeare had read in the third book of Golding's translation of Ovid, having, in his description of Winter, in The Midsummer-Night's Dream, imitated a passage that is found in the same page in which the history of Phaeton is related. I should add that the explanation now given was suggested by the foregoing note.-I would, however, wish to read-"thy son." In the old copies, the, thee, and thy are frequently confounded. I am now [This conclusion of Mr. Malone's note is taken from his Appendix,] persuaded that the original reading-son's, however ungrammatical, is right; for such was the phraseology of our poet's age. So again in this play: "This absence of your father's draws a curtain.” not-of your father. So, in The Winter's Tale : 66 the letters of Hermione's-." Again, in King John: "With them a bastard of the king's deceas'd." Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: "Nay, but this dotage of our general's-." Again, in Cymbeline : 66 or could this earl, "A very drudge of nature's—." How little attention the reading of the folio (“ sun's,") is entitled to, may appear from hence. In the quarto |