A Select Collection of Old English Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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BEV. Fetch't out yourself.
TRIN. Pox of all trans.m.u.tation, I am smother'd.
Lady, as you love me, give the hogshead vent, The beer that's in't will work and break the vessel.
BEV. Signior Antonio, as you love your life, Lie still and close, for, if you stir, you die.
RON. So, so; now shake it; so, so.
TRIN. O! I am drown'd! I drown!
RON. When comes this hollow sound?
TRIN. I drown! I smother!
RON. My life, 'tis Trincalo; for I have heard that c.o.xcomb, That a.s.s, that clown, seeks to corrupt my wife, Sending her[325] fruit and dainties from the country.
O, that 'twere he! how would I use the villain!
First crop his ears, then slit his nose, and geld him.
And with a red-hot iron sear his raw wounds; Then barrel him again, and send the eunuch To the great Turk to keep his concubines.
Tick, tock, who is within here? [_Knocks on the tub._
BEV. One that you dare not touch.
RON. One that I dare not? [TRINCALO _comes out_.
Out, villain, out--Signior Antonio!
Had it been any but yourself, he had died, But, as you sav'd my life, before you went, So now command mine in your services.
I would have sworn y' had drown'd in Barbary.
TRIN. 'Twas a hard pa.s.s;[326] but not so dangerous As was this vessel. Pray you, conceive no ill; I meant no harm, but call'd of your wife to know How my son Lelio did, and daughter Flavia.
RON. Sir, I believe you.
TRIN. But I must tell you one thing: You must not be so jealous; on my honour, She's very honest.
RON. For you I make no question; But there's a rogue called Trincalo, whom if I catch, I'll teach him.
TRIN. Who? you mean Pandolfo's farmer.
Alas, poor fool, he's a stark a.s.s, but harmless.
And though she talk with him, 'tis but to laugh, As all the world does at him. Come, be friends At my entreaty.
RON. Sir, for your sake.
BEV. I thank you.
TRIN. Let's have a fire; and, while I dry myself, Provide good wine and meat. I'll dine with you.
I must not home thus wet. I am something bold with you.
RON. My house and self are at your service.
TRIN. Lead in.
Alas, poor Trincalo, hadst thou been taken, Thou hadst been tunn'd for Turkey.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! fair fall Antonio's shape.
What a notorious wittol's this! ha, ha, ha! [_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[310] "_Heirlooms_ are such goods and personal chattels as, contrary to the nature of chattels, shall go by special custom to the heir, along with the inheritance, and not to the executor of the last proprietor. The termination, _loom_, is of Saxon original, in which language it signifies a limb or member of the inheritance."--Blackstone's "Commentaries," ii. 427.
[311] In act i. sc. 7, he says that _it cost two hundred pounds_.
[312] _i.e._, Body.
[313] Properties are whatever little articles are wanted for the actors, according to their respective parts, dresses and scenes excepted. The person who delivers them out is to this day called the _property man_. See Mr Steevens's note to "Midsummer Night's Dream,"
act i. sc. 2.
[314] The late ingenious Mr Robert Dodsley, whose modest merit is well known to those who were acquainted with him, had little skill in our ancient language, and therefore permitted many uncommon terms to be exchanged for others, to the no small detriment of the scenes which he undertook to publish. We had here a proof of the unpardonable licence, where a word of no meaning, _soak_, was given instead of a technical term belonging to falconry, in the language of which the present metaphor is carried on. A young hawk, like a young deer, was called a _soar_ or _soare:_ so that the brown _soar_ feathers are the remains of its first plumage, or such feathers as resemble it in colour. These birds are always mewed while they were moulting, to facilitate the growth of fresh plumes, more strong and beautiful than those which dropped off. Without this restoration and explanation, the pa.s.sage before us is unintelligible.--_Steevens._
Latham, in his book of falconry, says: "A _sore hawke_, is from the first taking of her from the eiry, till she have mewed her feathers."
The error introduced into the play by Mr Dodsley is continued by Mr Garrick who, in his alteration, reads brown _soak_ feathers.
Trincalo has already used a phrase that seems to be equivalent, in act ii. sc. 4, where he says--
"But if I _mew_ these _flags of yeomanry_ Gild in the _sear_," &c.
See the explanatory notes, where _flags_ are called "the baser order of feathers," and _sear_, we are told, is "the yellow part between the beak and the eyes of the hawk." After all, _sear_ may be a misprint for _soar_, and this would make the resemblance in the two pa.s.sages the stronger.--_Collier._
[315] The metaphor is taken from a c.o.c.k, who in his pride _prunes himself_, that is, picks off the loose feathers to smooth the rest.
See notes by Dr Johnson and Mr Steevens to "First Part of King Henry IV.," act i. sc. 1.
The previous metaphors and phrases are from _falconry_, and probably the allusion is meant to be continued here: a _hawk_ may be said to _prune itself sleek_ just as well as a _c.o.c.k_.--_Collier._
[316] See a translation of Apuleius's "Golden a.s.se," by William Adlington, 4, 1566.
[317] The 4 of 1615 omits _was_.--_Collier._
[318] This appears to be the same as if, in modern language, he had said, _I stand_ at so many, a term still used at the game of _commerce_, and once perhaps current at many others; for it is not very certain at what particular game the deluded Trincalo supposes himself to be playing.--_Steevens._
The terms in the text appear to have been used at primero. I believe, therefore, Trincalo imagines himself to be playing at that game. It appears from a pa.s.sage in "Nugae Antiquae," that fifty-five was esteemed a number which might safely be relied on. See note to "Lingua," [ix.
387, 388.]
[319] See note to "The City Nightcap," [act iv. sc. 4, vol. xiii.; and Dyce's "Shakespeare Glossary," _v._ Haggard.]
[320] "_Stooping_," says Latham, "is when a hawke, being upon her wings at the height of her pitch, bendeth violently down to strike the fowle, or any other prey." So in "The Alchymist," act v. sc. 5--
"Here stands my dove: _stoop_ at her if you dare."
"Again, Milton, in "Paradise Lost," bk. xi. 1. 185.