[From _The Quarterly Review_, October, 1816]
_Shakespeare's Himself Again! or the Language of the Poet asserted;
being a full and dispassionate Examen of the Readings and
Interpretations of the several Editors. Comprised in a Series of Notes,
Sixteen Hundred in Number, illustrative of the most difficult Passages
in his Plays_--_to the various editions of which the present Volumes
form a complete and necessary Supplement_. By ANDREW BECKET. 2 vols.
8vo. pp. 730. 1816.
If the dead could be supposed to take any interest in the integrity of
their literary reputation, with what complacency might we not imagine
our great poet to contemplate the labours of the present writer! Two
centuries have passed away since his death--the mind almost sinks under
the reflection that he has been all that while exhibited to us so
"transmographied" by the joint ignorance and malice of printers,
critics, etc., as to be wholly unlike himself. But--_post nubila,
Phoebus!_ Mr. Andrew Becket has at length risen upon the world, and
Shakespeare is about to shine forth in genuine and unclouded glory!
What we have at present is a mere scantling of the great work _in
procinctu_--[Greek: _pidakos ex ieraes oligaelizas_]--sixteen hundred
"restorations," and no more! But if these shall be favourably received,
a complete edition of the poet will speedily follow. Mr. Becket has
taken him to develop; and it is truly surprizing to behold how beautiful
he comes forth as the editor proceeds in unrolling those unseemly and
unnatural rags in which he has hitherto been so disgracefully wrapped:
Tandem aperit vultum, et tectoria prima reponit,--
Incipit agnosci!--
Mr. Becket has favoured us, in the Preface, with a comparative estimate
of the merits of his predecessors. He does not, as may easily be
conjectured, rate any of them very highly; but he places Warburton at
the top of the scale, and Steevens at the bottom: this, indeed, was to
be expected. "Warburton," he says, "is the _best_, and Steevens the
_worst_ of Shakespeare's commentators"; (p. xvii) and he ascribes it
solely to his forbearance that the latter is not absolutely crushed: it
not being in his nature, as he magnanimously insinuates, "to break a
butterfly upon a wheel!" Dr. Johnson is shoved aside with very little
ceremony; Mr. Malone fares somewhat better; and the rest are dismissed
with the gentle valediction of Pandarus to the Trojans--"asses, fools,
dolts! chaff and bran! porridge after meat!" With respect to our author
himself, it is but simple justice to declare, that he comes to the great
work of "restoring Shakespeare"--not only with more negative advantages
than the unfortunate tribe of critics so cavalierly dismissed, but than
all who have aspired to illumine the page of a defunct writer since the
days of Aristarchus. As far as we are enabled to judge, Mr. Becket never
examined an old play in his life:--he does not seem to have the
slightest knowledge of any writer, or any subject, or any language that
ever occupied the attention of his contemporaries; and he possesses a
mind as innocent of all requisite information as if he had dropped, with
the last thunderstone, from the moon.
"Addison has well observed, that 'in works of criticism it is absolutely
necessary to have a _clear and logical head_.'" (p.v.) In this position,
Mr. Becket cheerfully agrees with him; and, indeed, it is sufficiently
manifest, that without the internal conviction of enjoying that
indispensable advantage, he would not have favoured the public with
those matchless "restorations"; a few specimens of which we now proceed
to lay before them. Where all are alike admirable, there is no call for
selection; we shall therefore open the volumes at random, and trust to
fortune.
"_Hamlet_. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?"
This reading, Mr. Becket says, he cannot admit; and he says well: since
it appears that Shakespeare wrote--
"For who would bear the _scores_ of _weapon'd_ time?"
using _scores_ in the sense of stripes. Formerly, _i.e.,_ when Becket
was _in his sallad days_, he augured, he says, that the true reading
was--
--"the scores of _whip-hand_ time."
Time having always the _whip-hand,_ the advantage; but he now reverts to
the other emendation; though, as he modestly hints, the epithet
_whip-hand_ (which he still regards with parental fondness) will perhaps
be thought to have much of the manner of Shakespeare.--Vol. i, p. 43.
"_Horatio_.--While they, distill'd
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him!"
We had been accustomed to find no great difficulty here: the words
seemed, to us, at least, to express the usual effect of inordinate
terror--but we gladly acknowledge our mistake. "The passage is not to be
understood." How should it, when both the pointing and the language are
corrupt? Read, as Shakespeare gave it--
--"While they _bestill'd_
Almost to _gelèe_ with the act. Of fear
Stand dumb," &c.--that is, petrified (or rather icefied) p. 13.
"_Lear_. And my poor fool is hang'd!"
With these homely words, which burst from the poor old king on reverting
to the fate of his loved Cordelia, whom he then holds in his arms, we
have been always deeply affected, and therefore set them down as one of
the thousand proofs of the poet's intimate knowledge of the human heart.
But Mr. Becket has made us ashamed of our simplicity and our tears.
Shakespeare had no such "lenten" language in his thoughts; he wrote, as
Mr. Becket tells us,
"And my _pure soot_ is hang'd!"
Poor, he adds, might be easily mistaken for _pure_; while the _s_ in
_soot_ (sweet) was scarcely discernible from the _f_, or the _t_ from
the _l_.--p. 176.
We are happy to find that so much can be offered in favour of the old
printers. And yet--were it not that the genuine text is always to be
preferred--we could almost wish that the critic had left their blunder
as it stood.
"_Wolsey_.--that his bones
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them."
A tomb of tears is ridiculous. I read--a _coomb_ of tears--a _coomb_
is a liquid measure containing forty gallons. Thus the expression,
which was before absurd, becomes forcible and just.--vol. ii, p. 134.
It does indeed!
"_Sir Andrew_. I sent thee six-pence for thy leman (mistress): had'st
it?" Read as Shakespeare wrote: "I sent thee sixpence for thy
_lemma_"--_lemma_ is properly an _argument_, or _proposition assumed_,
and is used by Sir Andrew Aguecheek for a story.--p. 335.
"_Viola_. She pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy."--Correct it thus:
"She pined in thought
And with _agrein_ and _hollow_ melancholy."--p. 339.
"_Iago_. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense,
And he grows angry"--
that is, or rather _was_, according to our homely apprehension, I have
rubb'd this pimple (Roderigo) almost to bleeding:--but, no; Mr. Becket
has furnished us not only with the genuine words, but the meaning of
Shakespeare--
I have _fubb'd_ this young _quat_--_Quat_, or cat, appears to be a
contraction of cater-cousin--and this reading will be greatly
strengthened when it is remembered that Roderigo was really the
intimate of Iago.--p. 204.
In a subsequent passage, "I am as melancholy as a gibb'd cat"--we are
told that _cat_ is not the domestic animal of that name, but a
contraction of _catin_, a woman of the town. But, indeed, Mr. Becket
possesses a most wonderful faculty for detecting these latent
contractions and filling them up. Thus,
"_Parolles_. Sir, he will steal an egg out of a cloister." Read (as
Shakespeare wrote), "Sir, he will steal an _Ag_ (i.e., an _Agnes_) out
of a cloister." _Agnes_ is the name of a woman, and may easily stand
for chastity.--p. 325.
No doubt.
"_Carter_. Prithee, Tom, put a few flocks in Cut's saddle; the poor
beast is wrung in the withers out of all cess."
Out of all cess, we used to think meant, in vulgar phraseology, out of
all measure, very much, &c.--but see how foolishly!
_Cess_ is a mere contraction of _cessibility_, which signifies the
_quality of receding_, and may very well stand for _yielding_, as
spoken of a tumour.--p. 5.
"_Hamlet_. A cry of players."
This we once thought merely a sportive expression for a _company of_
players, but Mr. Becket has undeceived us--"_Cry_ (he tells us) is
contracted from _cryptic_, and cryptic is precisely of the same import
as mystery."--p. 53. How delightful it is when learning and judgment
walk thus hand in hand! But enough--
--"the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness"--
and we would not willingly cloy our readers. Sufficient has been
produced to encourage them--not perhaps to contend for the possession of
the present volumes, though Mr. Becket conscientiously affirms, in his
title-page, that "they form a complete and _necessary_ supplement to
every former edition"--but, with us, to look anxiously forward to the
great work in preparation.
Meanwhile we have gathered some little consolation from what is already
in our hands. Very often, on comparing the dramas of the present day
(not even excepting Mr. Tobin's) with those of Elizabeth's age, we have
been tempted to think that we were born too late, and to exclaim with
the poet--
"Infelix ego, non illo qui tempore natus,
Quo facilis natura fuit; sors O mea laeva
Nascendi, miserumque genus!" &c.
but we now see that unless Mr. Andrew Becket had also been produced at
that early period, we should have derived no extraordinary degree of
satisfaction from witnessing the first appearance of Shakespeare's
plays, since it is quite clear that we could not have understood them.
One difficulty yet remains. We scarcely think that the managers will
have the confidence, in future, to play Shakespeare as they have been
accustomed to do; and yet, to present him, as now so happily "restored,"
would, for some time at least, render him _caviare to the general_. We
know that Livius Andronicus, when grown hoarse with repeated
declamation, was allowed a second rate actor, who stood at his back and
spoke while he gesticulated, or gesticulated while he spoke. A hint may
be borrowed from this fact. We therefore propose that Mr. Andrew Becket
be forthwith taken into the pay of the two theatres, and divided between
them. He may then be instructed to follow the _dramatis personae_ of our
great poet's plays on the stage, and after each of them has made his
speech in the present corrupt reading, to pronounce aloud the words as
"restored" by himself. This may have an awkward effect at first; but a
season or two will reconcile the town to it; Shakespeare may then be
presented in his genuine language, or, as our author better expresses
it, be HIMSELF AGAIN.