Peterborough, dyed Nov. 14, A.D. 1672.'

'Quod mori potuit præstantissimæ fœminæ
Compton Emery
Filiæ Joannis Towers S. T. P.
Hujus Ecclesiæ quondam Episcopi
Viduæ Roberti Rowell LL. D.
Nec non charissimæ conjugis
Richardi Emery Gen:
In hoc tumulo depositum: Feb. 4.

A^o Ætatis 54,
A^o Domini 1683.'"
A marginal note states that "The Chapter-house and Cloyster sold in 1650 for 800l., to John Baker, Gent., of London."

H. Thos. Wake.

FOLK LORE

Superstition of the Cornish Miners (Vol. viii., p. 7.).—I cannot find the information desired by your correspondent in the Cornish antiquaries, and have in vain consulted other works likely to explain this tradition; but the remarks now offered will perhaps be interesting in reference to the nation alluded to. The Carthaginians being of the same race, manners, and religion as the Phœnicians, there are no particular data by which we can ascertain the time of their first trading to the British coast for the commodity in such request among the traders of the East. The genius of Carthage being more martial than that of Tyre, whose object was more commerce than conquest, it is not improbable that the former might by force of arms have established a settlement in the Cassiterides, and by this means have secured that monopoly of tin which the Phœnicians and their colonies indubitably enjoyed for several centuries. Norden, in his Antiquities of Cornwall, mentions it as a tradition universally received by the inhabitants, that their tin mines were formerly wrought by the Jews. He adds that these old works are there at this day called Attal Sarasin, the ancient cast-off works of the Saracens, in which their tools are frequently found. Miners are not accustomed to be very accurate in distinguishing traders of foreign nations, and these Jews and Saracens have probably a reference to the old merchants from Spain and Africa; and those employed by them might possibly have been Jews escaped the horrors of captivity and the desolation which about that period befel their country.

"The Jews," says Whitaker (Origin of Arianism, p. 334.), "denominated themselves, and were denominated by the Britons of Cornwall, Saracens, as the genuine progeny of Sarah. The same name, no doubt, carried the same reference with it as borne by the genuine, and as usurped by the spurious, offspring of Abraham."

Bibliothecar. Chetham.

Northamptonshire Folk Lore (Vol. vii., p. 146.).—In Norfolk, a ring made from nine sixpences freely given by persons of the opposite sex is considered a charm against epilepsy. I have seen nine sixpences brought to a silversmith, with a request that he would make them into a ring; but 13½d. was not tendered to him for making, nor do I think that any threehalfpences are collected for payment. After the patient had left the shop, the silversmith informed me that such requests were of frequent occurrence, and that he supplied the patients with thick silver rings, but never took the trouble to manufacture them from the sixpences.

A similar superstition supposes that the sole of the left shoe of a person of the same age, but opposite sex, to the patient, reduced to ashes is a cure for St. Anthony's fire. I have seen it applied with success, but suppose its efficacy is due to some astringent principle in the ashes.

E. G. R.

SHAKSPEARE CORRESPONDENCE

On Two Passages in Shakspeare.—Taking up a day or two since a Number of "N. & Q.," my attention was drawn to a new attempt to give a solution of the difficulty which has been the torment of commentators in the following passage from the Third Act of Romeo and Juliet:

"Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus' mansion; such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the West,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.—
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing Night,
That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen."

"Runaways'" being a manifest absurdity, the recent editors have substituted "unawares," an uncouth alteration, which, though it has a glimmering of sense, appears to me almost as absurd as the word it supplies. In this dilemma your correspondent Mr. Singer ingeniously suggests the true reading to be,—

"That rumourers' eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen."

No doubt this is a felicitous emendation, though I think it may be fairly objected that a rumourer, being one who deals in what he hears, as opposed to an observer, who reports what he sees, there is a certain inappropriateness in speaking of a rumourer's eyes. Be this as it may, I beg to suggest another reading, which has the merit of having spontaneously occurred to me on seeing the word "runaways'" in your correspondent's paper, as if obviously suggested by the combination of letters in that word. I propose that the passage should be read thus:

"Spread thy close curtain, love-performing Night,
That rude day's eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen."

A subsequent reference to Juliet's speech has left no doubt in my mind that this is the true reading, and so obviously so, as to make it a wonder that it should have been overlooked. She first asks the "fiery-footed steeds" to bring in "cloudy night," then night to close her curtain (that day's eyes may wink), that darkness may come, under cover of which Romeo may hasten to her. In the next two lines she shows why this darkness is propitious, and then, using an unwonted epithet, invokes night to give her the opportunity of darkness:

"Come, civil night,
Thou sober suited matron all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning game," &c.

The peculiar and unusual epithet "civil," here applied to night, at once assured me of the accuracy of the proposed reading, it having evidently suggested itself as the antithesis of "rude" just before applied to day; the civil, accommodating, concealing night being thus contrasted with the unaccommodating, revealing day. It is to be remarked, moreover, that as this epithet civil is, through its ordinary signification, brought into connexion with what precedes it, so is it, through its unusual meaning of grave, brought into connexion with what follows, it thus furnishing that equivocation of sense of which our great dramatist is so fond, rarely missing an opportunity of "paltering with us in a double sense."

I think, therefore, I may venture to offer you the proposed emendation as rigorously fulfilling all the requirements of the text, while at the same time it necessitates a very trifling literal disturbance of the old reading, since by the simple change of the letters naw into ded, we convert "runaways'" into "rude day's," of which it was a very easy misprint.

Having offered you an emendation of my own, I cannot miss the opportunity of sending you another, for which I am indebted to a critical student of Shakspeare, my friend Mr. W. R. Grove, the Queen's Counsel. In All's Well that ends Well, the third scene of the Second Act opens with the following speech from Lafeu:

"They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves in a seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear."

On reading this passage as thus printed, it will be seen that the two sentences of which it is composed are in direct contradiction to each other; the first asserting that we have philosophers who give a causeless and supernatural character to things ordinary and familiar: the second stating as the result of this, "that we make trifles of terrors," whereas the tendency would necessarily be to make "terrors of trifles." The confusion arises from the careless pointing of the first sentence. By simply shifting the comma at present after "things," and placing it after "familiar," the discrepancy between the two sentences disappears, as also between the two members of the first sentence, which are now at variance. It should be pointed thus:

"They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless."

It is singular that none of the editors should have noticed this defect, which I have no doubt will hereafter be removed by the adoption of a simple change, that very happily illustrates the importance of correct punctuation.

R. H. C.

Shakspeare's Skull.—As your publication has been the medium of many valuable comments upon Shakspeare, and interesting matter connected with him, I am induced to solicit information, if you will allow me, on the following subject. I have the Works of Shakspeare, which being in one volume 8vo., I value as being more portable than any other edition. It was published by Sherwood without any date affixed, but probably about 1825. There is a memoir prefixed by Wm. Harvey, Esq., in which, p. xiii., it is stated that while a vault was being made close to Shakspeare's, when Dr. Davenport was rector, a young man perceiving the tomb of Shakspeare open, introduced himself so far within the vault that he could have brought away the skull, but he was deterred from doing so by the anathema inscribed on the monument, of—

"Curs'd be he that moves my bones."

This is given upon the authority of Dr. Nathan Drake's work on Shakspeare, in two vols. 4to. Now in this work much is given which is copied into the memoir, but I do not there find this anecdote, and perhaps some reader of "N. & Q." may supply this deficiency, and state where I may find it. I may be allowed to state, that Pope's skull was similarly stolen and another substituted.

I annex Wheler's remark that no violation of the grave had, up to the time of his work, taken place.

"Through a lapse of nearly two hundred years have his ashes remained undisturbed, and it is to be hoped no sacrilegious hand will ever be found to violate the sacred repository."—History of Stratford-upon-Avon, by R. B. Wheler (circa 1805?), 8vo.

A Subscriber.

On a Passage in "Macbeth."—Mr. Singleton (Vol. vii., p. 404.) says, "Vaulting ambition, that o'erleaps itself," is nonsense—the thing is impossible; and proposes that "vaulting ambition" should "rest his hand upon the pommel, and o'erleap the saddle (sell)," a thing not uncommon in the feats of horsemanship.

Did Mr. Singleton never o'erleap himself, and be too late—later than himself intended? Did he never, in his younger days, amuse himself with a soprasalto; or with what Donne calls a "vaulter's sombersault?" Did he never hear of any little plunderer, climbing a wall, o'erreaching himself to pluck an apple, and falling on the other side, into the hands of the gardener? "By like," says Sir Thomas More, "the manne there overshotte himself."

What was the manne about? Attempting such a perilous gambol, perhaps, as correcting Shakspeare.

To {overleap, overreach, overshoot} himself are merely, to {leap, reach, shoot}, over or beyond the mark himself intended.