* * * * *
ON A PASSAGE IN "THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR," AND ON CONJECTURAL
EMENDATION.
The late Mr. Baron Field, in his _Conjectures on some Obscure and Corrupt
Passages of Shakspeare_, published in the "Shakspeare Society's Papers,"
vol. ii. p. 47., has the following, note on _The Merry Wives of Windsor_,
Act ii. Sc. 2.:--
"'_Falstaff._ I myself sometimes having the fear of heaven on the left
hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
and to lurch; and yet you, you rogue, will esconce your _rags_, your
cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases and your bold-beating oaths,
under the shelter of your honour.'
"Pistol, to whom this was addressed, was an ensign, and therefore _rags_
can hardly bear the ordinary interpretation. A _rag_ is a beggarly fellow,
but that will make little better sense here. Associated as the phrase is, I
think it must mean _rages_, and I find the word used for _ragings_ in the
compound _bard-rags_, border-ragings or incursions, in Spenser's _Fairy
Queen_, ii. x. 63., and _Colin Clout_, v. 315."
Having on one occasion found that a petty larceny committed on the received
text of the poet, by taking away a superfluous _b_, made all clear, perhaps
I may be allowed to restore the abstracted letter, which had only been
_misplaced_ and read _brags_, with, I trust, the like success? Be it
remembered that Pistol, a braggadocio, is made up of _brags_ and slang; and
for that reason I would also read, with Hanmer, _bull-baiting_, instead of
the unmeaning "_bold-beating_ oaths."
I well know with what extreme caution conjectural emendation is to be
exercised; but I cannot consent to carry it to the excess, or to preserve a
vicious reading, merely because it is warranted by the _old copies_.
Regretting, as I do, that Mr. Collier's, as well as Mr. Knight's, edition
of the poet, should both be disfigured by this excess of caution, I venture
to subjoin a cento from George Withers, which has been inscribed in the
blank leaf of one of them.
"Though they will not for a better
Change a syllable or letter,
Must the _Printer's_ spots and stains
Still obscure THE POET'S Strains?
Overspread with antique rust,
Like whitewash on his painted bust
Which to remove revived the grace
And true expression of his face.
So, when I find misplaced B's,
I will do as I shall please.
If my method they deride,
Let them know I am not tied,
In my free'r course, to chuse
Such strait rules as they would use;
Though I something miss of might,
To express his meaning quite.
For I neither fear nor care
What in this their censures are;
If the art here used be
Their dislike, it liketh me.
While I linger on each strain,
And read, and read it o'er again,
I am loth to part from thence,
Until I trace the poet's sense,
And have the _Printer's errors_ found,
In which the folios abound."