8

and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chop'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods, and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears,' Wear these

8

--

9

batlet,] The instrument with which washers beat their coarse clothes. JOHNSON.

Old copy-batler. Corrected in the second folio. MALONE. 9 -two cods,] For cods it would be more like sense to read-peas, which having the shape of pearls, resembled the common presents of lovers. JOHNSON.

In a schedule of jewels in the 15th Vol. of Rymer's Fœdera, we find," Item, two peascoddes of gold with 17 pearles."

FARMER.

Peascods was the ancient term for peas as they are brought to market. So, in Greene's Groundwork of Cony-catching, 1592: went twice in the week to London, either with fruit or pescods," &c. Again, in The Shepherd's Slumber, a song published in England's Helicon, 1600:

"In pescod time when hound to horne
"Gives ear till buck be kill'd," &c.

Again, in The honest Man's Fortune, by Beaumont and Fletcher: "Shall feed on delicates, the first peascods, strawberries."

STEEVENS.

In the following passage, however, Touchstone's present certainly signifies not the pea but the pod, and so, I believe, the word is used here: "He [Richard II.] also used a peascod branch with the cods open, but the peas out, as it is upon his robe in his monument at Westminster." Camden's Remains, 1614. Here we see the cods and not the peas were worn. Why Shakspeare used the former word rather than pods, which appears to have had the same meaning, is obvious. MALONE. The peascod certainly means the whole of the pea as it hangs upon the stalk. It was formerly used as an ornament in dress, and was represented with the shell open exhibiting the peas. The passage cited from Rymer, by Dr. Farmer, shows that the peas were sometimes made of pearls, and rather overturns Dr. Johnson's conjecture, who probably imagined that Touchstone took the cods from the peascods, and not from his mistress. DOUCE. weeping tears,] A ridiculous expression from a sonnet in Lodge's Rosalynd, the novel on which this comedy is founded,

1

for my sake. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.2

Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of. TOUCH. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it.

Ros. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion
Is much upon my fashion.

TOUCH. And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

CEL. I pray you, one of you question yond man, If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

TOUCH. Holla; you, clown!

Ros.

Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.

COR. Who calls?

TOUCH. Your betters, sir.

COR. Else are they very wretched.

Ros.

Good even to you, friend.3

Peace, I say:

COR. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

It likewise occurs in the old anonymous play of The Victories of King Henry V. in Peele's Jests, &c. STEEVENS.

The same expression occurs also in Lodge's Dorastus and Fawnia, on which The Winter's Tale is founded. MALONE.

2

so is all nature in love mortal in folly.] This expression I do not well understand. In the middle counties, mortal, from mort, a great quantity, is used as a particle of amplification; as mortal tall, mortal little. Of this sense I believe Shakspeare takes advantage to produce one of his darling equivocations. Thus the meaning will be, so is all nature in love abounding in folly. JOHNSON.

3

to you, friend.] The old copy reads-to your friend. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. MALONE.

Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed: Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd, And faints for succour.

COR.

Fair sir, I pity her,

And wish for her sake, more than for mine own,

My fortunes were more able to relieve her:
But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;
My master is of churlish disposition,

4

And little recks to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality:

Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed,
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come see,
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.5
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and
pasture?

COR. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,

That little cares for buying any thing.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

CEL. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place,

And willingly could waste my time in it.

And little recks-] i. e. heeds, cares for. So, in Hamlet: "And recks not his own rede." STEEVENS.

5 And in my voice most welcome shall you be.] In my voice, as far as I have a voice or vote, as far as I have power to bid you welcome. JOHNSON.

COR. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold:
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The same.

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and Others..

SONG.

AMI. Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,

6

And tune his merry note

Under the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

JAQ. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.

AMI. It will make you melancholy, monsieur Jaques.

And tune- The old copy has turne. Corrected by Mr. Pope. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona :

"And to the nightingale's complaining note
"Tune my distresses, and record my woes."

MALONE.

The old copy may be right, though Mr. Pope, &c. read tune. To turn a tune or a note, is still a current phrase among vulgar musicians. STEEVENS.

JAQ. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more.

AMI. My voice is ragged; I know, I cannot please you.

JAQ. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing: Come, more; another stanza; Call you them stanzas ?

AMI. What you will, monsieur Jaques.

JAQ. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you sing?

AMI. More at your request, than to please.myself.

JAQ. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you: but that they call compliment, is like the encounter of two dog-apes; and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

AMI. Well, I'll end the song.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree :-he hath been all this day to look you.

8

JAQ. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too dispútable for my company: I think of as many matters as he; but I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble,

come.

7-ragged ;] Our modern editors (Mr. Malone excepted) read rugged; but ragged had anciently the same meaning. So, in Nash's Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse, 4to. 1593: “ I would not trot a false gallop through the rest of his ragged verses," &c. STEEVENS.

dispútable-] For disputatious. MALONE.