cunningly contrived for the ditty, and pleasantly for the note." Carew's Survey of Cornwall,

fo. 72.

Sc. 2. p. 113,

CLOWN. but one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes,

An allusion to a practice, common at this time among the Puritans, of burlesquing the plein chant of the Papists, by adapting vulgar and lu dicrous music to psalms and pious compositions.

Sc. 3. p. 123.

PER. For you there 's rosemary, and rue;

Grace and remembrance be to you both.

The following lines are from a song entitled, A nosegaie alwaies sweet for lovers to send for tokens of love at newyere's tide, or for fairings, as they in their minds shall be disposed to write, printed in Robinson's Handefull of pleasant delites, 1584, 16mo.

"Rosemarie is for remembrance,

Betweene us daie and night,

Wishing that I might alwaies have

You present in my sight."

This plant, as being thought to strengthen the

memory, was therefore given to friends, as in the present instance. See Parkinson's Flower garden, p. 426. Thus Ophelia says to her brother, "There's rosemary; that's for remembrance, pray you, love, remember." The reason for calling rue herb of grace is best explained in the notes on a subsequent speech of Ophelia. See vol. xv. p. 276.

PER.

POL.

PER.

Sc. 3. p. 124.

and streak'd gilliflowers,

Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind

Our rustick garden's barren; and I care not
To get slips of them.

Do you neglect them?

Wherefore, gentle maiden,

For I have heard it said,

There is an art which in their piedness, shares

With great creating nature.

The solution of the riddle in these lines that has embarrassed Mr. Steevens is probably this. The gilly-flower or carnation is streaked, as every one knows, with white and red. In this respect it is a proper emblem of a painted or immodest woman; and therefore Perdita declines to meddle with it. She connects the gardener's art of varying the colours of the above flowers with the art of painting the

face, a fashion very prevalent in Shakspeare's time. This conclusion is justified by what she says in her next speech but one.

Sc. 3. p. 126.

PER. The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun
And with him rises weeping.

"So upon occasions past, David found it true that he should not have bene heretofore at any time, and therefore professeth, that, for the time to come, he would be no marigold-servant of God, to open with the sun, and shut with the dewe." Prime's Consolations of David applied to Queene Elizabeth: in a sermon preached in Oxford the 17 of November, 1588, 12mo. Lord Howard, in his Defensative against the poyson of supposed prophecies, 1583, 4to, says that "the marie-golde dooth close and open with the sunne, &c."

Dr. Johnson would transfer this speech to the king, and Mr. Ritson would read “swear for one," or at least have some alteration; but in

reality no change is necessary. Florizel had just said, "so turtles pair that never mean to part; on which Perdita very naturally observes, "I'll swear for 'em." This is no more than a common phrase of acquiescence, as we likewise say, "I'll warrant you."

To Mr. Steevens's curious note on these implements for stiffening the ruffs formerly worn by persons of both sexes, it may be worth adding that this fashion, being carried to a great extremity, became the subject of many satirical prints. One of the oldest was engraved in 1580, by Matthias Quad, and represents the Devil's ruff-shop, he being called the kragen-setzer or ruff-setter. A young gallant has brought his mistress to have her ruff set. The Devil is engaged in this operation, whilst an assistant is heating fresh pokingsticks in a brasier. Another print of this sort by Galle, is copied from a design by Martin de Vos, and entitled Diaboli partus superbia. It has this inscription relating to the poking-sticks: "Avec ces fers chauds qu'on vous icy appreste, En enfer puny seras, O layde beste." Other

prints represent several monkeys habited in ruffs, and busily employed in poking and starching them, &c.

Sc. 3. p. 138.

CLOWN. Clamour your tongues, and not a word more.

The word is difficult, and, it is feared, likely to afford nothing but conjecture.

Dr. Warburton asserts that the phrase is from ringing; that to clamour bells is to repeat the stroke quicker than before, previously to ceasing them. On the contrary, Dr. Grey maintains that to clamour bells is a continued ringing; and Mr. Malone, with great probability, suspects that what Warburton has said is gratis dictum. Dr. Johnson says that "to clam a bell is to cover the clapper with felt, which drowns the blow, and hinders the sound ;" and Mr. Nicholls, that a good clam is a peal of all the bells at once. According to the treatise on ringing in The school of recreation, 1684, 12mo, "clamming is when each concord strikes together, which being done true, the 8 will strike but as four bells, and make a melodious harmony." The accounts of bellclamming are therefore so discordant that it seems but fair to give up entirely this sense of the word.