There is no manuscript of Jonson’s Discoveries. The text was first printed in the third section of the third volume of the 1640-1 edition of Jonson’s Works , four years after Jonson’s death in 1637. The other texts in the third section of volume 3 are Horace and Grammar, and Discoveries follows on from Grammar, collating M-R4, pages 385-132 (see Greg, 1939-59, 1079-82 ; Giddens, 2003, 57 ).
Although it is quite likely that Discoveries was printed from an autograph manuscript, it is peculiarly hard to infer Jonson’s intentions for the presentation and publication of the text we now have for three main reasons. The first is that, as for the rest of the plays, masques, poems, and prose of the third volume, Jonson did not live to see Discoveries through the press. The second is that, unlike the rest of the plays, poems, masques, and prose in the 1640-1 edition (with the exception of Grammar) Discoveries is generically unique among Jonson’s writings, and so has no counterpart in the earlier folio. Thus while we might be able to infer the extent to which plays, poems and masques in the 1640-1 folio were produced in accordance with Jonson’s typographical, orthographical, and other choices as expressed in 1616, we have no model for how Jonson himself might have wanted to present a printed text of Discoveries (which appears to be an unfinished or incomplete collection of observations from reading, topically arranged). At the same time, the evidence we have suggests that Jonson had intended to publish Discoveries in some form. Related to this second reason is a third. The personal commonplace book or set of notes and observations that comes into print (as opposed to the commonplace book specially designed for print, for which see Moss, 1996 ) is itself a puzzling and slightly anomalous phenomenon. As Beal observes of the seventeenth century manuscript commonplace book, it is essentially a private compilation (Beal, 1987-93, 133 ). Whatever the extent of Jonson’s preparation of his manuscript for publication, the printed text we have includes what appear to be private jottings or provisional notes (see, for example, at 1846, ‘Quintilian of the same heresy, but rejected’; or, at 1115, ‘See where* he complains of their painting chimeras’, where Jonson in the first instance appears to jotting down a reminder of Quintilian’s view, and in the second to be reminding himself to look up Vitrivius’s De architectura). That these notes occur amidst what seems elsewhere to be a more formally, publicly and even pedagogically oriented ordering of the text makes it hard for editors to infer a consistent organisational rationale on which to base conjectural readings and decisions about whether or not to reorder material or reassign marginal notes.
The text in its present form, as Schelling (1892, v) , long ago observed and many editors have found, ‘courts rearrangement’, and the decision not to rearrange or intervene can often feel like a decision to follow the vagaries of chance or even compositorial confusion rather than conscious authorial choice. Editorial decisions to emend or rearrange have, consequently, tended to be justified either by appeals to neglect and haste in printing, or to the hazardous transmission of Jonson’s ‘loose papers’ (H&S, 8.558 ) from one place to another after his death. Furthermore, appeals to haste or neglect at the press, commonly invoked since Swinburne’s fulminations against the ‘scandalous neglected text’ and its ‘palpable and preposterous misprint[s]’ (1888, 133, 136 ) seemed to have been lent support by the discovery, in 1930, of documents relating to a legal dispute over rights in Jonson’s works which interrupted the printing of the third volume, apparently badly affecting in particular the printing of The Sad Shepherd and Discoveries (H&S, 9.96 ; edited by Eugene Giddens in the Textual Database). This essay, then, will not so much ascertain the extent to which the printing of Discoveries conformed to, or deviated from, Jonson’s intentions (which are very hard to conjecture) as it will attempt to show how previous editorial decisions about emendation have been affected by two narratives, one of the haphazard transmission of Jonson’s papers, and another of violent disruption in the processes of printing.
There are three sections. The first considers the problem of ascertaining the extent to which the text as we have reflects the author’s organization and choice of presentation. The second uses recent evidence (Giddens, 2003 ) that casts into doubt previous accounts of the effect of the legal dispute on the printing of Discoveries to reconsider earlier editorial decisions based on the assumption of printers’ errors. The third presents a collation of stop-press corrections, and concludes from these and from uncorrected errors what can be said about the care or otherwise with which Discoveries was printed.
Layout and organization: the commonplace book in print
The Introduction to Discoveries addressed the question of the extent to which a book of translations and transcriptions from the writings of others might be said to be the work of the named author on the title-page. That question is also inseparable, however, from questions that arise with respect to the text’s passage into print, and its layout on the page, and the extent to which what we have in F2 conformed to Jonson’s intentions, or to directions given in Jonson’s manuscript. Sometime before his death, Jonson seems to have entrusted certain of his unpublished writings to Sir Kenelm Digby, who then, according to a Chancery bill lodged on 20 January 1640 [1641] by the stationer Thomas Walkley, delivered them to Walkley ‘to have them published and printed according to the intencon of the said Benjamin Johnson’ (H&S, 9.98 ; Textual Database, ‘Legal Disupte’). We will return to the legal dispute which prompted Walkley’s claim, but for the moment Walkley’s invocation of Jonson’s ‘intencon’ raises the question of the extent to which we may be able to judge from internal evidence whether the organization of Discoveries (the order of the text, the relationship of marginal notes to the topics covered), can be regarded as intended by Jonson, rather than the product of processes of editorial intervention in the transmission from Digby’s custodianship to the printshop.
Late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century editors tended to suggest that the text of F2 was far from conforming to Jonson’s intention. In 1892 Felix Schelling (writing without knowledge of Digby’s transmission of the text to Walkley) insisted strongly that ‘the work could never have been intended, by so careful an author as Jonson, for publication in its present form’ (xv) . A few years later, Maurice Castelain took up an even more extreme position, contending not only that Discoveries had never been intended by its author for publication, but that the printers themselves had entertained doubts, and had finally ‘shuffled in’ the disjointed text at the last minute. Castelain even argued that the marginal titles to paragraphs, which he described as ‘often inappropriate’ had been ‘thrown in hastily by the editor, for the sake of clearness’ (1906, viii, ix). These arguments can easily be dismissed, as they were by the Oxford editors, Percy and Evelyn Simpson, who pointed out that it would be impossible for a printer or editor to append a marginal title such as Non nova res livor, ‘Envy is no new thing’ (185), since the Latin phrase itself occurs in the source text (by J. J. Scaliger) from which Jonson’s passage is translated. Another good example of a marginal note which can only be authorial is at 750, More andabatum, qui clausis oculos pugnant (‘after the fashion of the andabatae, who fight with closed eyes’), since this note refers to an Erasmian adage which the text alludes to, but nowhere explicitly mentions. However, there are numerous other examples. De innocentia at 950 refers to Apuleius’s Apologia, Sive de Magia Liber (‘Apology, or Book of Magic’) which is nowhere mentioned, though the allusion enriches, for learned readers, the account in the corresponding text of Jonson’s own experience of his innocence serving him as an eloquent defence when his writings were used by malicious men who wished to incriminate him. From examples such as this one we see how knowledge of Jonson’s uses of his reading, which Castelain invoked to destabilize the text’s authority, actually help to confirm the authorially intended element in the text’s organization.
Castelain had also argued that the second epigraph, entitled ‘SYLVA’ (sig. M1v), had never been intended to precede the text of ‘Explorata, or Discoveries’ (M2), but had been meant as the epigraph for Jonson's collection of poetry, The Forest. This, he said, was evident from the fact that the catchword at the foot of M1v in F was not ‘EX-’, for ‘EXPLORATA’, but ‘THE’, for ‘THE FOREST’ (Castelain, viii). The Simpsons, however, noted that Castelain's theory condemning the ‘SYLVA’ epigraph was based on a rare variant copy in the University of Tours, which had the catchword ‘THE’, instead of the usual ‘EX-’. As most copies had ‘EX-’ there seemed no real reason to doubt that the epigraph was Jonson’s (H&S, 8.557). The text of the epigraph (which comes from a seventeenth century gloss to the poems of Statius entitled Sylvae; see lines 1-6n.) had been used in an English translation by Jonson as a headnote to Underwood. The Simpsons proposed that ‘the sturdier Timber . . . fits the prose miscellany equally well’ (H&S, 8.557). Nevertheless, for the Simpsons, too, the form of the text as printed in 1641 provoked legitimate doubts about whether Jonson would have wanted to change aspects of its ordering and presentation had he been alive to see it through the press. Would Jonson, for example, have acknowledged passages transcribed from other texts in English (as opposed to translated from Latin) in marginal attributions? Would he have put the name of John Hoskyns in the margin next to essay copied from him almost exactly (1508-1623; see H&S, 11.211), or the name of Fr. Francesco Fulgenzio Micanza next to the praise of Francis Bacon transcribed from him at 673-9? Although answering such questions may be impossible, we can nevertheless make some generalizations about seventeenth century readers’ expectations of the intelligible form of the commonplace book in print.
We can start then, from the assumption that the epigraph and the quotation on the title-page follow Jonson’s choice (although, as Happé points out in his Textual Essay on F2(3), the spelling of Jonson’s name as ‘Johnson’ would not have been in conformity with his wishes), and the internal evidence favours our concluding that the marginal headings are authorial. After titles, title quotations and epigraph, we come to the layout of the text page by page. To what extent is the layout of F2, with its paragraphs indicated by marginal headings and indentations (but not separated by line spaces) likely to have been according to directions left by Jonson? What might Jonson have envisaged for a print layout of his commonplace book? Jonson himself drew on printed commonplace books of different kinds, such as Antonio Possevino’s Bibliotheca selecta de ratione studiorum (Venice, 1603) and Justus Lipsius’ Politica (Jonson’s own marked copy is vol. 7 of Iusti Lipsii V. C. opera omnia, Antwerp, 1623). It seems likely that, although his own textual project departs in significant ways from those of Possevino’s Jesuit thesaurus or from Lipsius’s dialectically generative arguments, his expectations of what a printed commonplace book might look like would have been conditioned by his encounter with works like these from Continental presses. Both Possevino’s and Lipsius’s books are organized, unlike Discoveries, in chapters. Within chapters, however, certain features suggest a format for Discoveries. Possevino has paragraphs of text in Roman type, with quoted passages in italic, while marginal headings are in roman, and marginal attributions in italic. In Lipsius’s Politica, too, quotations within the text are distinguished by being in italic, while the author’s ‘own’ words are in roman. Topical headings in Lipsius’s Politica are in italic in the left-hand margin on recto pages, and in the right-hand margin on verso, while authorial attributions of the italicized quotations in the body of the text are in roman, located in the opposite margins, recto and verso. There are spaces between each short topical section of authorial discourse and quotation, and each chapter is headed by a question in italic.
While the layout of Discoveries is simpler, there is enough in common with books such as Possevino’s and Lipsius’s to suggest either that Jonson gave directions for layout on his manuscript, or that print houses were familiar with the layout of Continental printed commonplace books. Latterly in Discoveries F2 (from 1664ff), topic questions are centred on the page in italic, and answered in paragraphs of roman type, with quotations in italic, which are in turn attributed to authors in the margins in italic. At the same time, new topics and subdivisions of topics appear in the margins also in italic. It seems likely that Jonson would have chosen a layout of this kind, though he would almost certainly have wanted there to be space, as in Lipsius’s Politica, between each paragraph or new topic division. The lack of space between topics or paragraphs is probably evidence, as in the rest of the third volume, of compression for reasons of expense. For this reason, this edition has followed H&S in inserting space between topics, unless these seem to be part of a longer essay. It is possible that Jonson would have chosen to distinguish between authorial attributions and topic headings in the margin by using roman and italic respectively, as Lipsius does, but this is mere conjecture. In F2 topic headings and attributions are alike in italic, unless the former are in English (see 132, 229, 940), but even this distinction is not consistent; see 1863, 1876, 1893 etc.
On the question of order, editors have generally followed F2 in spite of doubts about apparent randomness. The Oxford editors argued that F2’s arrangement of the text was ‘haphazard’. It was clear, they said, ‘that Sir Kenelm Digby gathered up Jonson’s loose papers and handed them over the publisher, just as he found them’ (H&S.8.558). On these grounds they reassigned ‘two pointless sentences on the theme of propagation’ from their position within the topic De Principis (707-10) to 694. Their emended position has nothing to recommend it, however, whereas both marginal headings and the internal sense of the text itself could be adduced as evidence to support the sentences’ location in their original position (see commentary, 707-10n.). For this reason, this edition has left the sentences in the position F2 gives, and has followed the order of F2 exactly. It should be noted, however, that something may be missing between Q4v and R1 (1631 in this edition), since the catchword at Q4v is ‘Cum’, which seems to begin a new sentence after ‘Aspersions’, but the new sentence at the top of R1 begins with ‘That’. In addition, it is obvious that the final lines of the text, 2001-04, are misplaced, since they interrupt an otherwise coherent and continuous translation of Daniel Heinsius’s De Tragoedia Constitutione .
Hasty printing? The Walkley-Benson dispute
A conjectural history of the text’s posthumous transmission as a collection of loose papers has, as we have seen, borne on editorial decisions concerning its organizational coherence. Assessments of the care with which the text has been printed have been affected by another narrative: this time the narrative of a disrupted passage through the printing house. We have seen that the stationer Thomas Walkley claimed to have received for publication from Sir Kenelm Digby ‘severall of the writings and workes of Beniamin Johnson late deceased and not before printed’. Walkley, perhaps assuming that he was in possession of unique copies (Loewenstein, 2002, 209), failed to secure his copyright by entering these works under his name in the Stationers’ Register. In the meantime, two other stationers, John Benson and Andrew Crooke, registered, and in one case actually published, masques and poems which overlapped with the materials Walkley had received from Digby and was preparing for publication. Walkley then secured an injunction against Benson and Crooke, preventing them from publishing the books he already had in press. But Benson and Crooke responded rather ingeniously, arranging for another stationer, John Parker, to attach the sheets Walkley had printed under pretence of security for a debt which Benson was supposed to owe Parker. It was because of this attachment of the sheets in the midst of printing that Walkley filed his bill in Chancery, requesting a subpoena be directed to Benson and Crooke to appear before the Court (H&S, 9.95-6).
Walkley eventually won his case, and the Folio was published, though two of its imprints, The Sad Shepherd and Discoveries, were dated 1641, while the rest were dated 1640, the date when Walkley had intended to publish. The Simpsons, working from the assumption that Walkley’s bill was filed on January 20th, 1640, argued that the interruption must have occurred just as the third section was being set, so that Discoveries must have been printed hurriedly, after he had regained his impounded stock. In both the texts dated 1641, says Simpson, ‘there are clear signs of hasty printing, especially in the Discoveries where there are serious omissions, for instance in the passage borrowed from Hoskyns’ (9.96). However, since Simpson wrote, new evidence has come to light concerning the identification of Walkley’s printer, and concerning the chronology Simpson supposed when he assumed that Discoveries had been printed in haste.
Walkley’s printer was identified in 1972 by D. F. McKenzie as John Dawson Jr, whose printing shop, as Happé shows, was well able to handle texts as complicated as Jonson’s annotated masques, or Discoveries, with its mixture of English, Latin and Greek, and its myriad marginal annotations. In addition, E. Giddens’s important work on the skeletons used in the printing has called into question the Simpsons’ assumption that the interruption to printing caused by Parker’s appropriation of the stock occurred when printing work on Discoveries was just beginning. Giddens (2003) shows while the signatures of Discoveries, which begin with quire M, follow on from those of the Grammar, the text is set using skeletons which are the same as those used for Tub. The headlines of these old skeletons are discernible in quires M-Q of Discoveries, while for quire R, the last in the volume, a new set of skeletons was employed. Giddens shows, too, how up to the end of quire Q the composing stick width is 124mm, but that in quire R the width changes to 128mm (Giddens, 2003, 64). In addition, the 50 lines per page of the previous quires changes to 51 lines in quire R. As has already been noticed, the catchword of Q4v (‘Cum’) does not match the first word of R1 (‘That’). It seems likely, then, from this new evidence, that the interruption to printing caused by Parker’s invasion (if that is what happened) occurred when the printing of Discoveries was nearly complete (Walkley’s bill in Chancery being filed in January 1641, not 1640 as the Simpsons thought), a conclusion which throws into question assumptions about signs of disruption and haste throughout the printed text.
Stop-press corrections and uncorrected errors in F2
In some ways, Giddens’s findings actually corroborate those of the Oxford editors who, in spite of elsewhere condemning the press-work of volume 3 as ‘abominable’ (H&S, 9.106), admitted in relation to Discoveries that the printing was quite careful. They note that where errors occur in Greek and Latin, these tend to be corrected, showing ‘scholarly knowledge’ (8.558). Thus, for example, a mistake in a quotation from Hesiod at 256, ανθρωποιον for ανθρωοισιν is corrected in state 2, and at 261 the marginal note is likewise corrected from Pindar Epaminodas to Pindari Epaminodas. As Giddens notes, most of the evidence of uncorrected errors cited by the Simpsons in support of their contention that Discoveries was sloppily printed comes from quire Q, and indeed from a single signature, Q4v, which looks as if it was the last to be printed before the sheets were attached by Parker. After quire Q, there are no more stop-press corrections.
The uncorrected errors in Discoveries are of three main types. The most obvious is haplography, or eyeskip, where the compositor’s eye is misled by the repetition of a word into omitting intervening words. Because so much of Discoveries is transcribed or translated from other sources, it has been possible to identify three occasions of eyeskip, and to supply the omitted words to make better sense. Thus, at 1586-8, F2, Q4-v, reads: ‘The next property of Epistolarie style is Perspicuity, and is oftentimes [state 1: often time] by affectation of some wit ill angled for’. John Hoskyns’s Directions for Speech and Style supplied the crucial missing words, and this edition reads: ‘The next property of epistolary style is perspicuity, and is often-times endangered by the former quality (brevity), often-times by some affectation of wit ill-angled for’ (1586-8). This eyeskip occurs where most other errors are concentrated, in the last signatures of quire Q, just before, according to Giddens’s chronology, the printing of Discoveries was disrupted. Similar instances of uncorrected eyeskip where textual confusion can be resolved by turning to a Latin source can be found at 727-8 and n. Here F2 reads, at O2, ‘Hence the Persians gave out their Cyrus to have beene nurs’d by a Bitch, a creature to encounter it: as of sagacity to seeke out good’. The Latin of Jonson’s source, Henry Farnese, translates as ‘because a dog has not more boldness (audaciae) to oppose evils, than sagacity (sagacitas) to track out spoils’, suggesting that after the word ‘creature’ the compositor missed a phrase something like ‘of no less audacity to encounter ill’ to followed, after a colon, by ‘as of sagacity to seeke out good.’ A third example of eyeskip occurs at 1923-5. The last is of particular interest, since although some lines of text are missing which this edition has supplied (after H&S) by recourse to Jonson’s source, Daniel Heinsius, it is nevertheless striking that the words which have not been omitted show Jonson’s innovative vocabulary and characteristic orthography being carefully preserved in ‘Buffalo’ and ‘Rhinocerote’ (R4, 1925 in this edition, and see n.). Thus while the eyeskip is confirmed by recourse to Jonson’s source text, the confirmation makes us all the more confident that we are reading a very particular rendering of Heinsius into Jonsonian English.
The second type of fairly common uncorrected error appears to be a misreading of Jonson’s ‘s’ for an ‘a’ or an ‘e’. At N2v, F2 gives ‘seeme’ when Jonson’s text surely read ‘seems’ (416); at O1v ‘Albane’ appears in place of ‘Albans’, both in text (668) and marginalia; and at N1v the marginal heading reads ‘Claritas Patria’ when (following the Elder Seneca), it should read ‘Claritas Patris’ (298). The letter ‘e’ seems occasionally to have been read as ‘c’, both in upper and lower case, as at O1v, ‘Cliot’ for ‘Eliot’ (648) and at O4, ‘Scianus’ for ‘Sejanus’ (877). These errors persisted into F3 .
The third type of error occurs when there a change from prose to verse, and the compositor appears to be unsure as to what should be set as verse, and what as prose, or whether to incorporate a verse quotation into prose, or to set it separately. So on N1 (252-3 in this edition), the compositor has set a quotation from Homer as verse instead of incorporating it into the prose, with the result that the translation of the verse, ‘speaking without judgement, or measure’ is strung out awkwardly at the end of the verse line. Perhaps for this reason, state 1 omits ‘or measure’ and only has ‘speaking without judgement’, and other errors occur on this page, such as 'Α’κριτομοθος' for 'Α’κριτομυθος' and 'Demacatus' for 'Demaratus'. Similarly, at R3 (1844-5 in this edition) a verse from Suetonius on Cato the grammarian is indented as verse, Jonson’s referential note appended to the verse, ‘Cato, the Grammarian, a defender of Lucilius’ is also indented, as if part of the verse, while after the verse, ‘Quintilian of the same heresie, but rejected’ and the notes which follow are also indented. However, it is hard to say whether these are errors in any strict sense, since the text appears to be fragmentary at this point, defying conventions of layout. At other points, it is clear that the compositors worked hard to ensure that marginal notes corresponded to the relevant topics, and where the length of a previous marginal note was in danger of pushing the next too far down the page to seem to relate to its corresponding text, asterisks were added to ensure that note and text were correctly linked. Hence marginal notes at 279, 836, 1115 and 1128 have asterisks, because in F2 they were jostled out of position by the previous marginal note.
On the whole, there seems every reason to say that Discoveries presented a challenge to Dawson’s printing house, but that it was a challenge undertaken with reasonable care and revision, at least until John Parker interrupted the printing process and impounded the printed sheets. A distribution chart of stop-press variants across examined copies follows below. The most significant feature of this chart will be evident from the history given above; namely, that stop-press corrections cease after Q4. It seems from the concentration of corrections at N1, as well as the uncorrected errors in that vicinity, that the density of Latin and Greek quotation in the text and marginal notes caused some difficulty. In general, also, the correct positioning of marginal notes presented problems, especially where marginal notes were several words long. ſ
DISTRIBUTION OF STOP-PRESS CORRECTIONS
Copies collated
1. Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley, PR2600 1640
2. Cambridge University Library, Brett-Smith.a.7
3. Cambridge University Library, Syn.4.61.20
4. Cambridge University Library, Syn. 4.64.14
5. Cambridge University Library, Syn. 4.64.15
6. Cambridge University Library, Keynes.D.6.23
7. Christ’s College, Cambridge, Rouse 8.11
8. Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, STC 14754
9. Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge, L.34.3
10. King’s College, Cambridge, Keynes C.5.14 [large paper copy]
11. King’s College, Cambridge, C.10.6
12. Newnham College, Cambridge, 381a+b
13. Trinity College, Cambridge, Grylls 32.140
14. Trinity College, Cambridge, Grylls 32.180
15. Trinity College, Cambridge, VI.12.11
16. Trinity College, Cambridge, Capell F.8
17. Bodleian Library, Oxford, Douce I 303
18. Bodleian Library, Oxford, Don.d.66
19. Brotherton Library, University of Leeds, Lt q JON
20. Brotherton Library, University of Leeds, Strong Room English, fol. 1640
JON
21. Martin Butler copy
M1:4 (i)
| M1:4 (i) | ||||||
| STATE 1 | STATE 2 | STATE 3 | ||||
| M1v (86) | ||||||
| 3 | va-rietatc | varietate | ~ | |||
| 7 | Antiqui. | Antiqui: | ~ | |||
| c.w. | THE | EX- | ~ | |||
| M4 (91) | ||||||
| 1 | ſollid litterature | ſolide literature | ~ | |||
| s.n. 3 | Icunculor/ motio. | Icunculo-/ rum motio. | Icuncula-/ rum motio. | |||
| s.n. 3 | [aligned with lines 7-8] | [aligned with 8-9] | ~ | |||
| 32 | fowleſt | foulest | ~ | |||
| 47 | miſinterpreted | miſ-interpreted | ~ |
State 1: 2, 8
State 2: 14, 15, 19, 20
State 3: all other copies
| M2:3 (o) | ||||
| STATE 1 | STATE 2 | |||
| M2 (87) | ||||
| 9 | ſtrengh | ſtrength | ||
| 15 | for to, | for, to | ||
| 22 | by a | by | ||
| M3v (90) | ||||
| 10-11 | words/mouth | words/in his mouth | ||
| s.n. 36 | inter [indented] | [flush left] | ||
| 39 | Comma’s | Comma’s, |
State 1: 15, 20
State 2: all other copies
| M1:4 (o) | ||||
| M4v (92) | ||||
| 26 | hischiefe | his chiefe |
State 1: 2, 8
State 2: all other copies
| N1:4 (o) | ||||
| N1 (93) | ||||
| 1 | :ſpeaking | : ſpeaking | ||
| 1 | judgement, | judgement, or measure | ||
| 4 | ανθρωποιον | ανθρωοισιν | ||
| 5 | ι ουσης | ιουσης | ||
| s.n. 5 | Pindar: | Pindari | ||
| 16 | Zeno, | Zeno | ||
| 25 | one, | one | ||
| 27 | Ward- | Ward | ||
| 28 | Ε᾽χεμυθια, | Ε᾽χεμυθια. | ||
| 29 | com | com- | ||
| 33 | to, | to | ||
| 40 | blasted, | blasted; | ||
| 41 | Murren; | Murren, | ||
| 41 | stood | stood, | ||
| 42 | bald, | bald | ||
| s.n. 29 | Vulgi expe-/ ctatio [aligned with 45] | [aligned with 46] | ||
| 47 | now | new | ||
| N4v (100) | ||||
| 4 | Tamer-Chams, | Tamer-Chams | ||
| 5 | warrant them/ them | warrant/ them | ||
| 14 | Readers: | Readers; | ||
| 14 | ſweetneſſe, | ſweetneſſe | ||
| 14 | them; | them: | ||
| 14 | inveighing: | inveighing, | ||
| 20 | avoyded, | avoyded | ||
| 30 | things, | things | ||
| 31 | is: | is; | ||
| 33 | selfe: | selfe; | ||
| s.n. 5 | studiorum [omitted] | [supplied] |
State 1: 4, 6, 21
State 2: all other copies
| N1:4 (i) | ||||
| N1v (94) | ||||
| 29 | ſeeke | ſeek | ||
| 29 | good, | good | ||
| 29 | Miſchefe | Miſchiefe |
State 1: 4, 6, 21
State 2: all other copies
| N2:3 (i) | ||||
| N2v (96) | ||||
| 8 | ſaith: | ſaith, | ||
| 11 | it. As | it: as | ||
| 44 | in, like Ladies; | in; like Ladies: | ||
| N3 (97) | ||||
| 3 | doeall | doe all | ||
| s.n. 8 | Sake- | Shake- |
State 1: 11, 12, 15, 18, 19
State 2: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 17, 20, 21
| O2:3 (o) | ||||
| O3v (106) | ||||
| s.n. 22 | Clementia [‘C’ different font] | Clementia | ||
| s.n. 23 | tutela opti- | tutelat opi- | ||
| s.n. 27 | [aligned with 48-9] | [aligned with 49-50] |
State 1: 8, 17
State 2: all other copies
Note: additionally, in O2 (103) line 1, the word ‘fashions’ appears as ‘fa^shions’ or ‘fashions’ in copies 2, 4, and 17.
| O1:4 (i) | ||||
| O4 (107) | ||||
| s.n. 6-7 | Character. | Character. / Principis. | ||
| s.n. 6-7 | [aligned with 43-4] | [aligned with 41-2] |
State 1: 15, 16
State 2: all other copies
| Q1:4 (i) | ||||
| Q1v (118) | ||||
| 11 | benefit, | benefit | ||
| s.n. 1-3 | oratio-/nis./dignitate | oratio-/ nis dignitat-/ te | ||
| 15 | is, | is | ||
| Q4 (123) | ||||
| 41 | often timts | often times | ||
| 47 | is, but | is but, | ||
| c.w. | time | times |
State 1: 1, 4, 6, 10, 12, 15, 19, 20, 21
State 2: all other copies