See a note on that passage, Shakespeare, viii. 409, edit. 1778.—Steevens.
[223] [Old copy repeats taking after of, as it appears, erroneously, since it spoils the sense, and is not essential to the metre, such metre as it is! By my swear, by my oath: it is an unusual phrase, but occurs again just below.]
[224] John Dod, a learned and pious divine, born in Cheshire, educated at Jesus College, Cambridge, and afterwards successively minister of Hanwell, Oxfordshire, Fenny Drayton, Leicestershire, Canons Ashby and Fawsley in Northamptonshire, though for a time silenced in each of them. He is commonly called the Decalogist, having with Robert Cleaver, another Puritan, written "An Exposition on the Ten Commandments." He died at Fawsley in 1645, aged about ninety years. [For whatever the preceding account may be worth it is retained; but Dod's blessing seems to be merely a whimsical corruption of God's blessing.]
[225] This was John Knox, the celebrated reformer in Scotland. See his character in Robertson's "History of Scotland," i. 130.
ACT V., SCENE I.
Sir Thomas Bitefig as sick, Jane.
Sir T. Now that I have made even, girl, with heaven,
Though I am past the worst, and I perceive
My dinner only griev'd me; yet 'cause life's
Frail and uncertain, let me counsel thee—
'Tis good to be beforehand still. First, then,
I charge thee, lend no money; next, serve God;
If ever thou hast children, teach them thrift;
They'll learn religion fast enough themselves.
Nay, do not weep, but hearken. When heaven shall
Please to call in this weary soul of mine;
Ben't idle in expense about my burial:
Buy me a shroud—any old sheet will serve
To clothe corruption; I can rot without
Fine linen; 'tis but to enrich the grave,
And adorn stench—no reverence to the dead,
To make them crumble more luxuriously.
One torch will be sufficient to direct
The footsteps of my bearers. If there be
Any so kind as to accompany
My body to the earth, let them not want
For entertainment: prythee, see they have
A sprig of rosemary dipp'd in common water,
To smell to, as they walk along the streets.
Eatings and drinkings are no obsequies.
Raise no oppressing pile to load my ashes;
But if thou'lt needs b' at charges of a tomb,
Five or six foot of common stone, engraved
With a good hopeful word, or else a couple
Of capital letters filled up with pitch,
Such as I set upon my sheep, will serve:
State is not meet for those that dwell in dust.
Mourn as thou pleasest for me; plainness shows
True grief. I give thee leave to do it for
Two or three years, if that thou shalt think fit;
'Twill save expense in clothes. And so now be
My blessing on thee, and my means hereafter.
Jane. I hope heaven will not deal so rigidly
With me, as to preserve me to th' unwelcome
Performance of these sad injunctions.