by Stephen Typpe, at the Sign of the Catte and Fiddelle, London, 1598, bl. let. and entered in the books of the Stationers' Company, November, 1598.

And ye Bryde and ye Brydegroome, not Handyely fyndeing a Parson, and being in grieuous "hayst to bee wed; they did take a Broome-stycke, and "they did jumpe from one syde of ye Broome-stycke ouer "to ye other syde thereof; and haueing so done, they "did thinke them law fulle Man and Wyffe."

STEEVENS.

It is a kind of heresy to doubt the authority of Quiz'em, for he is uncommonly accurate and faithful in his description of old customs. Yet the manner of marrying described in the passage quoted by Mr. Steevens, if it ever existed at all, could have been resorted to only by the lower classes: for I have made a diligent search into the records of all the noble and ancient families of the realm, and do not find a single instance of a marriage among them thus solemnized. Deckar notices the custom of shaking hands across the body of a dead horse, or any other dead beast, as a sufficient marriage ceremony; but he is then describing the habits and manners of beggars: and it is much to be doubted whether even this ceremony was ever admitted among people of superior birth and education.

MALONE.

AMONGST the popular superstitions is one, that butter is mad twice a year; that is to say, in summer, when its liquability renders it tenable only in a spoon; and, in winter, when, no longer intenerate, by its inflexible viscosity, it obstinately resists the knife.

JOHNSON.

(b)--Thou'lt sweetly tickle this young Jockey's mutton.

The quarto reads, and, I think, properly, pickle.

POPE.

I have restored tickle from the folio. In rejecting pickle, I am supported by the context; for, who ever heard of pickled MUTTON? As a further proof, if (in support of a point established in reason, and beyond the reach of controversy) further proof be necessary, let me produce the adverbial ́ epithet sweetly; for that which is pickled is never sweet, as the distinguishing property of a pickle, is its power of extimulating on the palate a sensation of acidity.

To tickle one's mutton, is one of the common idioms of our language; and means, to punish by flagellation. JOHNSON.

Dr. Johnson may be right: for in no one of the numerous Works upon Cookery, either antient or modern, which I have referred to, do I find the slightest mention of pickled mutton.

My enquiries into this important subject, though equally diligent in the prosecution, have been less successful in the result, than my investigation of that more delicate topic-STEWED PRUNES: which, I flatter myself, I have (in another place*) so fully, and so satisfactorily, discussed, as to set all further question upon

the matter at rest.

STEEVENS.

* See Note upon

" stewed prunes." HzN. IV. Part I.

(c)-Peggy Tomkins

Some of the modern editions read Peggy Perkins : but as the change was, most likely, unauthorised, and made merely for the sake of the alliteration, I follow the old copies.

STEEVENS.

(d)—My coach—three thirty-five—

This is an exquisite touch of nature. Ophelia is now wavering between sense and insanity: she calls, first, for one coach; and then for three hundred and thirty-five coaches.

WARBURTON.

This I allow to be an exquisite touch of nature: but, by the illustration which the Right Reverend has attempted, its force is obstructed, and its beauty obscured. Three thirty-five is, evidently, the number of the HACKNEY-COACH which brought Ophelia to the palace, Here the poet has given an instance of his unbounded knowledge of human nature. In a short

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interval of lucidity Ophelia calls for her coach; and then, regardless of the presence of the " Majesty of Denmark," she calls for it by its number, 335. This is madness pathetic and interesting: had she, as Dr. Warburton erroneously supposes, called for three hundred and thirty-five coaches, it would have been a representation of madness too terrific for exhibition on the stage. Madness is agreeable only until 'it be comes outrageous.

"None of your blarney; it won't do to-night.”

Act II. Scene III.

STEEVENS.