That he hath giv'n away!-Now, by my life, stored from the old Quarto. The last verse, which I have ventured to amend, is there printed thus: With Checks, like Flatʼries when they are jeen abus'd. THEOBALD. 9 Old Fools are babes again; and must be us'd With Checks LIKE Flatt'ries when they're seen abus'd.] Thus the old Quarto reads these lines. It is plain they are corrupt. But they have been made worse by a fruitless attempt to cerrect them. And first, for Old Fools are babes again; A proverbial expression is here plainly alluded to; but it is a strange proverb which only informs us that fools are innocents. We should read, Old FOLKS are babes again;Thus speaks the proverb, and with the usual good fenfe of one. The next line is jumbled out of all meaning. Re With Checks LIKE Flatt'ries when they're jeen abus'd. Mr. Theobald restores it thus, With Checks like Flatt'rers when they're seen to abuse us. Let us confider the sense a little. Old Folks, says the speaker, are Babes again; well, and what then? Why then they must be used like Flatterers. But when Shakespear quoted the Proverb, we may be affured his purpose was to draw some inference from it, and not run rambling after a fimilitude. And that inference was not difficult to find, had common sense been attended to, which tells us Shakespear must have wrote, Old Folks are babes again; and must be us'd With Checks, NOT FLATT'RIES when they're seen abus'd. i. e. Old folks being grown children again, they should be used as we use children, with Checks, when we find that the little Flatt'ries we employed to quiet them are abused, by their becoming more peevish and perverfe by idulgence. -When they're fern ubus'd. i. e. when we find that those Flatt'ries are abused. WARBURTON. These lines hardly deserve a note, though Mr. Theobald thinks them very fine. Whether fools or folks should be read is not worth enquiry. The controverted line is yet in the old quarto, not as the editors reprefent it, but thus: With checks as flatteries when they are seen abus'd. I am in doubt whether there is any errour of tranfcription. The sense seems to be this: Old men must be treated with checks, when as they are seen to be deceived with flatteries: or, when they are once weak enough to be feen abused by flatteries, they are then weak enough to be used with checks. There is a play of the words used and abused. To abuse is, in our authour, very frequently the fame fame as to deceive. This conftruction is harsh and ungrammatical; Shakespeare perhaps thought it vicious, and chose to throw away the lines rather than correct them, nor would now thank the offici i Remember what I have said. Stew. Very well, Madam. Gon. And let his Knights have colder looks among you; what grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows fo. I'll write strait to my sister to hold my course. Prepare for dinner. [Exeunt. Kent. Changes to an open Place before the Palace. I Enter Kent disguis'd. F but as well I other accents borrow, May carry thro' itself to that full issue, Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights and Attendants. Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go, get it ready. [To Kent. Lear. What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly, that will put me in trust to love him that is honeft; to converse with him that is wife and ousness of his editors, who restore what they do not understand. bim that is wife AND SAYS little;] Tho' saying little may be the character of wisdom, it was not a quality to chuse a com 1 and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot chuse, and to eat no fish. Lear. What art thou ? Kent. A very honeft-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King. Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a fubject, as he is for a King, thou art poor enough. What wouldest thou? Kent. Service. Lear. Whom wouldst thou serve? Kent. You. Lear. Doft thou know me, fellow? Kent. No, Sir, but you have that in your counte nance, which I would fain call Master. Lear. What's that? Kent. Authority. Lear. What services canst thou do? Kent. I can keep honest counsels, ride, run, marr a panion by for his conversation. To converse fignifies immedi- 2 and to eat no fish.] In Queen Elizabeth's time the Papifts were efsteemed, and with good reason, enemies to the government. Hence the proverbial phrase of, He's an honest man and eats no fish to fignify he's a friend to the Government and a Proteftant. The eating fish, on a religious ac count, being then esteem'd such a badge of popery, that when it was enjoin'd for a season by act of parliament, for the encouragement of the fish-towns, it was thought necessary to declare the reason; hence it was called Cecil's Faft. To this disgraceful badge of popery, Fletcher alludes in his Woman-hater, who makes the courtezan say, when Lazarillo, in search of the Umbrano's head, was feized at her house by the Intelligencers, for a traytor. Gentlemen, I am glad you have discovered him. He should not have eaten under my roof for twenty pounds. And fure I did not like him when he called for fish. And Marston's Dutch Courtezan. I trust I am none of the wicked that eat fish a fryday. WARBURTON. cu33 Curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualify'd in; and the best of me is diligence. Lear. How old art thou ? Kent. Not so young, Sir, to love a woman for finging; nor fo old, to doat on her for any thing. I have years on my back forty-eight. Lear. Follow me, thou shalt ferve me; if I like thee no worfe after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner-Where's my knave? my fool? Enter Steward. : Go you, and call my fool hither. You, you, firrah, where's my daughter? Stew. So please you [Exit Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clodpoll back. Where's my fool, ho? I think, the world's afleep. How now? where's that mungrel ? Knight. He says, my Lord, your daughter is not well. Lear. Why came not the flave back to me when I call'd him? Knight. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest manher, he would not. Lear. He would not? Knight. My Lord, I know not what the matter is, but, to my Judgment, your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general dependants, as in the Duke himfelf alfo, and your daughter. Lear. Ha! say'st thou so ? Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my Lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty cannot be filent, when I think your Highness is wrong'd. Lear. Thou but remember'st me of my own con ception. I have perceived a most faint neglect of late, VOL. VI. D which which I have rather blamed as my own jealous curiofity, than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness; I will look further into't. But where's my fool? 1 have not seen him these two days. Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, Sir, the fool hath much pin'd away. Lear. No more of that, I have noted it well. Go you and tell my daughter, I would fpeak with her. Go you, call hither my fool. Enter Steward. O you, Sir, come you hither, Sir; who am I, Sir? Stew. My lady's father. Lear. My lady's father? my Lord's knave! you whoreson dog, you slave, you cur. Stew. I am none of these, my Lord; I beseech your pardon. Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? Stew. I'll not be struck, my Lord. [Striking bim. Kent. Nor tript neither, you base foot-ball player. Lear. I thank thee, fellow. I'll love thee. [Tripping up his heels. Thou serv'st me, and Kent. Come, Sir, arife, away. I'll teach you differences. Away, away; if you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry again; but away, go to, have you wifdom? fo. [Pushes the Steward out. Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's earnest of thy service. [Giving money. SCENE |