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Hab. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.-
6 Enter Haberdasher.] Thus, in the original play:
“San. Master, the haberdasher has brought my mistris home hir cap here.
“ Feran. Come hither, sirha: what have you there?
“ Kate. What if I did ? Come hither, sirha, give me the cap; ile see if it will fit me.
[She sets it on her head. “ Feran. O monstrous! why it becomes thee not. “Let me see it, Kate: here, sirha, take it hence; “ This cap is out of fashion quite.
“ Kate. The fashion is good inough: belike you mean to make a foole of me.
“ Feran. Why true, he means to make a foole of thee, « To have thee put on such a curtald cap: “ Sirha, begone with it.
“ Enter the Taylor, with a gowne. “ San. Here is the Taylor too with my mistris gowne.
“ Feran. Let me see it, Taylor: What, with cuts and jags ? « Sounes, thou vilaine, thou hast spoild the gowne.
“ Taylor. Why, sir, I made it as your man gave me direction; “ You may read the note here.
“ Feran. Come hither, sirha: Taylor, read the note.
“San. Maister, if ever I said loose bodies gowne,
Taylor. I made it as the note bade me. “ San. I say the note lies in his throate, and thou too, an thou sayest it.
“ Taylor. Nay, nay, ne'er be so hot, sirha, for I feare you not.
“ San. Doost thou heare, Taylor? thou hast braved many men; « Brave not me. Th’ast fac'd many men.
“ Taylor. Wel, sir.
“ San. Face not me: I 'le neither be fac’d, nor braved, at thy hands, I can tell thee.
“ Kate. Come, come, I like the fashion of it well inough; “ Heere's more adoe than needes; I 'le have it, I; “And if you do not like it, hide your
eies : “ I thinke I shall have nothing, by your will.
“ Feran. Go, I say, and take it up for your maister's use!
“ San. Souns villaine, not for thy life; touch it not: “Souns, take up my mistris gowne to his maister's use!
Pet. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;?
Kath. I 'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time,
Pet. When you are gentle, you shall have one too, And not till then. Hor.
That will not be in haste. [Aside. Kath. Why, sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak;8 And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
up my mist
“ Feran. Well, sir, what's your conceit of it? “ San. I have a deeper conceit in it than you think for. Take
gowne to his maister's use! “ Feran. Taylor, come hither; for this time make it : “Hence againe, and Ile content thee for thy paines. “ Taylor. I thanke you, sir.
[Exit Taylor. “ Feran. Come, Kate, wee now will go see thy father's house, * Even in these honest meane abiliments; “Our purses shall be rich, our garments plaine, " To shrowd our bodies from the winter rage; “And that's inough, what should we care for more?
Thy sisters, Kate, to-morrow must be wed, “And I have promised them thou should'st be there: “The morning is well up; let's haste away; “ It will be nine a clocke ere we come there.
“ Kate. Nine a clocke! why 'tis already past two in the after. noon, by al the clockes in the towne.
“ Feran. I say 'tis but nine a clocke in the morning. “ Kate. I say 'tis two a clocke in the afternoone.
“ Feran. It shall be nine then ere you go to your fathers : « Come backe againe; we will not go to day :
Nothing but crossing me stil? “ Ile have you say as I doe, ere I goe. [Exeunt omnes. Steevens.
7- on a porringer;] The same thought occurs in King Henry VIII: “
- rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head.” Steevens.
8 Why, sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak; &c.] Shakspeare has here copied nature with great skill. Petruchio, by frightening, starving, and overwatching his wife, had tamed her into gentleness and submission. And the audience expects to hear no more of the shrew: when on her being crossed, in the article of fashion and finery, the most inveterate folly of the sex, she fies out again, though for the last time, into all the intemperate rage of her nature. Warburton.
Your betters have endur'd me say my mind;
Pet. Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
Kath. Love me, or love me not, I like the сар; ;
Pet. Thy gown? why, ay:-Come, tailor, let us see 't. O mercy, God! what masking stuff is here? What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon: What! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart? Here's snip, and nip, and cut, and slish, and slash, Like to a censeri in a barber's shop:
9 A custard-coffin,] A coffin was the ancient culinary term for the raised crust of a pie or custard. So, in Ben Jonson's Staple of News:
if you spend “ The red deer pies in your house, or sell them forth, sir, “Cast so, that I may have their coffins all
“Return’d,” &c. Again, in Ben Jonson's Masque of Gypsies Metamorphosed:
“ And coffind in crust, 'till now she was hoary.” Ben Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair, has a similar term for a woman's cap: for all her velvet custard on her head.”
Steevens. Again, in a receipt to bake lampreys. MS. Book of Cookery, Temp. Hen. 6:
“ - and then cover the coffyn, but save a litell hole to blow into the coffyn, with thy mouth, a gode blast; and sodenly stoppe, that the wynde abyde withynne to ryse up the coffyn that it falle nott down." Douce.
1- censer -] Censers in barber's shops are now disused, but they may easily be imagined to have been vessels which, for the emission of the smoke, were cut with great number and varieties of interstices. Johnson.
In King Henry VI, P. II, Doll calls the beadle “thou thin man in a censer." Malone.
I learn from an ancient print, that these censers resembled in shape our modern brasieres. They had pierced convex covers, and stood on feet. They not only served to sweeten a barber's shop, but to keep his water warm, and dry his cloths on. See note on King Henry IV, P. II, Act V, sc. iv. Steevent
Why, what, o' devil's name, tailor, callst thou this? Hor. I see, she's like to have neither cap nor gown.
[Aside. Tai. You bid me make it orderly and well, According to the fashion, and the time.
Pet. Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd,
Kath. I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
thee. Tai. She says, your worship means to make a puppet of her.
Pet. O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
Tai. Your worship is deceiv’d; the gown is made
Gru. I gave him no order, I gave him the stuff.
O monstrous arrogance! thou liest, thou thimble.
The tailor's trade, having an appearance of effeminacy, has always been, among the rugged English, liable to sarcasms and contempt. Johnson.
be-mete - ] i.e. be-measure thee. Steevens. VOL. VI.
Tai. I have.
Gru. Face not me: thou hast braved many men:: brave not me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto thee.--I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces:6 ergo, thou liest.
Tai. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.
Gru. Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown,? sew me in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of brown thread: I said, a gown.
faced many things.] i. e. turned up many gowns, &c. with facings, &c. So, in King Henry IV:
“To face the garment of rebellion
- braved many men ;] i.e. made many men fine. Bravery was the ancient term for elegance of dress. Steevens.
but I did not bid him cut it to pieces :] This scene appears to have been borrowed from a story of Sir Philip Caulthrop, and John Drakes, a silly shoemaker of Norwich, which is related in Leigh's Accidence of Armorie, and in Camden's Remaines. Douce.
loose-bodied gown,] I think the joke is impaired, unless we read with the original play already quoted-a loose-body's gown. It appears, however, that loose-bodied gowns were the dress of harlots. Thus, in The Michaelmas Term, by Middle. ton, 1607: “ Dost dream of virginity now? remember a loose. bodied gown, wench, and let it go." Stecvens.
See Dodsley's Old Plays, Vol. III, p. 479, edit. 1780. Reed.
8 — a small compass'd cape;] A compass'd cape is a round cape. To compass is to come round. Johnson.
Thus in Troilus and Cressida, a circular bow window is called a-compass'd window.
Stubbs, in his Anatomy of Abuses, 1565, gives a most elaborate description of the gowns of women; and adds, “Some have capes reaching down to the midst of their backs, faced with velvet, or else with some fine wrought taffata, at the least, fringed about, very bravely.” Steevens.
So, in the Register of Mr. Henslowe, proprietor of the Rose Theatre, (a manuscript) “ 3 of June 1594. Lent, upon a womanes gowne of villet in grayne, with a velvet cape imbroidered with bugelles, for xxxvi's.” Malone.