Читать книгу Notes and Queries, Number 76, April 12, 1851 - Various - Страница 1

COULD SHAKESPEARE HAVE DESIGNATED CLEOPATRA "YOND RIBALD-RID NAG OF EGYPT?"

To judge of this question fairly, it will be necessary to cite the passage in which it occurs, as it stands in the folio, Act III. Sc. 8., somewhat at large.

The notes in the variorum edition begin by one from Johnson, in which he says:

"The word is in the old edition ribaudred, which I do not understand, but mention it in hopes that others may raise some happy conjecture."

Then Steevens, after having told us that a ribald is a lewd fellow, says:

"Ribaudred, the old reading, is I believe no more than a corruption. Shakspeare, who is not always very nice about his versification, might have written,

'Yon ribald-rid nag of Egypt'—

i.e. Yon strumpet, who is common to every wanton fellow."

Malone approves Steevens's ribald-rid, but adds,

"By ribald, Scarus, I think, means the lewd Antony in particular, not every lewd fellow."

Tyrwhitt saw the necessity of reading hag instead of nag, and says what follows seems to prove it:

It is obvious that the poet would not have made Scarus speak of Antony as the noble ruin of Cleopatra's magick, and of his manhood and honour, and in the same breath designate him as a ribald. He would be much more likely to apply the epithet lewd hag to such an enchantress as Cleopatra, than that of ribald-rid nag, which I feel convinced never entered the imagination of the poet.

Imperfect acquaintance with our older language has been too frequently the weak point of the commentators; and we see here our eminent lexicographer confessing his ignorance of a word which the dictionaries of the poet's age would have enabled him readily to explain. For although we have not the participle ribaudred, which may be peculiar to the poet, in Baret's Alvearie we find "Ribaudrie, vilanie in actes or wordes, filthiness, uncleanness"—"A ribaudrous and filthie tongue, os obscœnum et impudicum:" in Minsheu, ribaudrie and ribauldrie, which is the prevailing orthography of the word, and indicates its sound and derivation from the French, rather than from the Italian ribalderia.

That nagge is a misprint for hagge, will be evident from the circumstance, that in the first folio we have a similar error in the Merry Wives of Windsor, Act IV. Sc. 2., where instead of "you witch, you hagge," it is misprinted "you witch, you ragge." It is observable that hagge is the form in which the word is most frequently found in the folios, and it is the epithet the poet applies to a witch or enchantress.

I cannot, therefore, but consider the alteration of the text by Steevens as one of the most violent and uncalled-for innovations of which he has been guilty; and he himself seems to have had his misgivings, for his observation that Shakspeare "is not always very nice about his versification" was meant as an apology for marring its harmony by the substitution of ribald-rid for the poet's own ribaudred.

It is to me a matter of surprise that Mr. Collier and Mr. Knight, in their laudable zeal for adherence as closely as possible to the old copies, should not have perceived the injury done both to the sense and harmony of the passage by this unwarrantable substitution.

S. W. Singer.

BROWNE'S BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS

I have lately been amusing myself by reading the small volume with this title published in Clarke's Cabinet Series, 1845.

Among the many pleasing passages that I met with in its pages, two in particular struck me as being remarkable for their beauty; but I find that neither of them is cited by either Ellis or Campbell. (See Ellis, Specimens of the Early English Poets, 4th edition, corrected, 1811; and the Campbell, Specimens of the British Poets, 1819.)

Indeed Campbell says of Browne:

"His poetry is not without beauty; but it is the beauty of mere landscape and allegory, without the manners and passions that constitute human interest."—Vol. iii. p. 323.

Qualified by some such expression as—too often—generally—in almost every instance,—the last clause might have passed,—standing as it does, it appears to me to give anything but a fair idea of the poetry of the Pastorals. My two favourites are the "Description of Night"—

"Now great Hyperion left his golden throne," &c.,

(consisting of twenty-six lines)—book ii. song 1. (Clarke, p. 186.) and the "Lament of the Little Shepherd for his friend Philocel"—

"With that the little shepherd left his task," &c.,

(forty-four lines)—book ii. song 4. (Clarke, p. 278.)

If you will allow me to quote a short extract from each passage, it may enable the reader to see how far I am justified in protesting against Campbell's criticism; and I will then try to support the pretensions of the last, by showing that much of the very same imagery that it contains is to be found in other writings of acknowledged merit:—

I. FROM THE "DESCRIPTION OF NIGHT."

II. FROM THE "LAMENT OF THE LITTLE SHEPHERD."

Both these passages may have been quoted by some of Campbell's predecessors. This might justify him in not repeating them, but not in writing the criticism to which I have ventured to object. His work holds a high rank in English literature—it is taken as a text-book by the generality of readers; for which reasons I think that every dictum it lays down ought to be examined with more than usual care and attention.

Compare with different parts of the "Lament:"

"The morning of the day on which the farmer was to be buried, was rendered remarkable by the uncommon denseness of an autumnal fog. To Mrs. Mason's eye, it threw a gloom over the face of nature; nor, when it gradually yielded to the influence of the sun, and slowly retiring from the valley, hung, as if rolled into masses, mid-way upon the mountains, did the changes thus produced excite any admiration. Still, wherever she looked, all seemed to wear the aspect of sadness. As she passed from Morrison's to the house of mourning, the shocks of yellow corn, spangled with dewdrops, appeared to her to stand as mementos of the vanity of human hopes, and the inutility of human labours. The cattle, as they went forth to pasture, lowing as they went, seemed as if lamenting that the hand which fed them was at rest; and even the Robin-red-breast, whose cheerful notes she had so often listened to with pleasure, now seemed to send forth a song of sorrow, expressive of dejection and woe."—Miss Hamilton's Cottagers of Glenburnie, chap. xii.

C. Forbes.

Temple.