And fometimes comes fhe with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parfon's nofe as he lies afleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice,

Some

have it, COURTIER's noje; and this undoubtedly is the true reading and for thefe reafons. First, In the prefent reading there is a vicious repetition in this fine fpeech; the fame thought having been given in the foregoing line,

O'er lawyers' fingers, who ftrait dream on fees: Nor can it be objected that there will be the fame fault if we read courtier's, it having been faid before,

On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtfies ftrait; because they are fhewn in two places under different views in the first, their foppery; in the fecond, their rapacity is ridiculed. Secondly, In our author's time, a court-folicitation was called, fimply, a fuit; and a procefs, a fuit at law, to distinguish it from the other. "The King" (fays an anonymous cotemporary writer of the life of Sir William Cecil)" called him [Sir "William Cecil] and after long talk with him, being much delighted with his anfwers, willed his father to FIND [i. e. to smell out] A SUIT for him. Whereupon he became SUITER for the reverfion of the Cuftos-brevium office in the "Common Pleas : which the king willingly granted, it being "the first surr he had in his life." Indeed cur poet has very rarely turned his fatire against lawyers and law proceedings, the common topic of later writers: for, to obferve it to the honour of the English judicatures, they preferved the purity and fimplicity of their firft inftitution, long after chicane had over-run all the other laws of Europe. WARBURTON.

46

ON COURTIERS' knees, that dream on curt'fies ftrait;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who ftrait dream on fees.

He then goes on,

Sometimes the gallops o'er a coURTIER's nofe,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit ;-

In the latter lines Dr. Warburton has very juftly restored the old reading courtier's nofe, which had been changed into lawyer's nofe, by fome editor, who did not know, as it should feem, of any fuits but law juits. Dr. Warburton has explained the paffage with his ufual learning; but I do not think he is fo happy in his endeavour to justify Shakespeare from the charge of a vicious repetition in introducing the courtier twice. The fecond folio, I obferve, reads,

On COUNTRIES knees:

which has led me to conjecture, that the line ought to be

read thus:

On COUNTIES knees, that dream on courtfies ftrait: VOL. X.

C

Counties

Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambufcadoes, 7 Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear; at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horses in the night,

Paris,

Counties I understand to fignify noblemen in general. who, in one place, I think, is called earl, is most commonly ftiled the countie in this play. Shakespeare feems to have preferred, for fome reafon or other, the Italian conte to our count. It was no permanent reason, for I do not recollect that he uses the title in other plays, where the fcene is in Italy. Perhaps he took it from the old English novel, from which he is faid to have taken his plot.-Obfervations and Conjectures, printed at Oxford, 1766.

This fpeech at different times received much alteration and improvement, The part of it in queftion, ftands thus in the oldeft quarto 1597:

And in this fort fhe gallops up and down

Through lovers braines, and then they dream of love:
O'er courtiers knees, who ftrait on curfies dreame:
O'er ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait;
Which oft the angrie Mab with blifters plagues,
Because their breaths with fweetmeats tainted are.
Sometimes the gallops o're a lawyer's lap,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit:
And fometimes comes fhe with a tithe-pig's taile,
Tickling a parfon's nofe that lies afleepe,
And then dreames he of another benefice.
Sometimes fhe gallops o'er a foldier's nofe,
And then dreames he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambafcadoes, countermines,

Of healths five fadome deep, &c.

Shakespeare, as I have obferved before, did not always attend to the propriety of his own alterations. STEEVENS.

7 Spanish blades,] A fword is called a toledo, from the excellence of the Toletan fteel. So Grotius,

"Unda Tagi non eft alio celebranda metallo,
"Utilis in cives eft ibi lamna fuos."

JOHNSON.

8 And

And cakes the elf-locks in foul fluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That preffes them, and learns them firft to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is the

Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;
Thou talk'ft of nothing.

Mer. True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain phantafy;
Which is as thin of fubftance as the air,
And more unconstant than the wind; who wooes
Ev'n now, the frozen bofom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping fouth.
Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from our-
felves;

Supper is done, and we fhall come too late.
Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind mifgives,
Some confequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels; and expire the term
Of a defpifed life clos'd in my breast,
By fome vile forfeit of untimely death:
But he, that hath the fteerage of my course,
9 Direct my fail! On, lufty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

[Exeunt.

And cakes the elf-locks, &c.] This was a common fuperftition; and feems to have had its rife from the horrid difcafe called the Plica Polonica. WARBURTON.

' Dire& my fail!] I have restored this reading from the elder quarto, as being more congruous to the metaphor in the preceding line. Suit is the reading of the folio. STEEVENS. Dire my fuit!] Guide the fequel of the adventure. JOHNS.

SCE N NE V.
A Hall in Capulet's Houfe.

Enter Servants.

1 Serv, Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher! he fcrape a trencher! 2 Serv. When good manners fhall lie all in one or two mens' hands, and they unwafh'd too, 'tis a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-ftools, remove the 2 court-cupboard, look to the plate: good thou, 3 fave me a piece of march-pane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Sufan Grindstone, and Nell. -Antony! and Potpan !

2 Serv. Ay, boy, ready.

1 Serv. You are look'd for, and call'd for, afk'd for, and fought for, in the great chamber.

2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.-Cheerly, boys; be brifk a while, and the longer liver take all.

2

[Exeunt.

This fcene is added fince the firft copy. STEEVENS. -court-cupboard,] I am not very certain that I know the exact fignification of court-cupboard. Perhaps it is what we call at prefent the fide-board. It is however frequently mentioned in the old plays: fo in a Humorous Day's Mirth, 1599; "fhadow thefe tables with their white veils, and accomplish "the court-cupboard."-Again, in Monf. D'Olive, 1606, by Chapman ;

"Here fhall ftand my court-cupboard." STEEVENS.

3 Save me a piece of march-pane ;] March-pane was a confection made of Piñacho-nuts, almonds, and fugar, &c. and in high eneem in Shakespeare's time; as appears from the account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainment in Cambridge. It is faid that the univerfity prefented Sir William Cecil their chancellor with two pair of gloves, a march-pane, and two fugarloaves. Peck's Defillerata Curiofa, vol. ii. p. 29. Dr. GRAY.

Exter

Enter Capulet, the Guests and Ladies, with the Mafkers.

1 Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies, that have their feet

Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you. Ah ha, my miftreffes! which of you all

gone:

Will now deny to dance? fhe that makes dainty, fhe,
I'll fwear, hath corns: am I come near you now?
You are welcome, gentlemen: I have seen the day
That I have worn a vifor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis
4 You are welcome, gentlemen. Come, musicians, play.
SA hall! a hall! Give room. And foot it, girls.
[Mufick plays, and they dance.
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah, firrah, this unlook'd for fport comes well.
Nay fit, nay fit, good coufin Capulet,
For you and I are past 7 our dancing days:

You're welcome, gentlemen.] Thefe two lines, omitted by the modern editors, I have replaced from the folio. JOHNSON.

A ball! a ball!] Such is the old reading, and the true one, though the modern editors read, A ball! a ball! The former exclamation occurs frequently in the old comedies, and fignifies, make room.-So in the comedy of Doctor Dodypell, 1600, "Room! room! a hall! a ball!" Again in B. Jonfon's Tale of a Tub,

6

-Then cry, a hell! a ball!

"'Tis merry in Tottenham-hall, when beards wag all."

STEEVENS.

good coufin Capulet,] This coufin Capulet is unkle in the paper of invitation; but as Capulet is defcribed as old, cousin is probably the right word in both places. I know not how Capulet and his lady might agree, their ages were very difproportionate; he has been paf masking for thirty years, and her age, as fhe tells Juliet, is but eight-and-twenty. JOHNSON. our dancing days:] Thus the folio: the quarto reads, "our fanding days." STLEVENS.

7