Shakspere & Typography Part 3

His sword death's _stamp_.

_Coriola.n.u.s_, ii, 2.

Hear how deftly t.i.tle-pages are treated:

_Sim._ Knights, To say you're welcome were superfluous.

To place upon the _volume_ of your deeds, As in a _t.i.tle-page_, your worth of arms, Were more than you expect, or more than's fit.

_Pericles_, ii, 3.

Hear, too, Northumberland, who thus addresses the bearer of fearful news:

This man's brow, like to a _t.i.tle-leaf_, Foretells the nature of a tragic _volume_.

_2 Henry IV_, i, 1.

Evidently Shakspere had a good idea of what a t.i.tle-page should contain.

From t.i.tle to Preface is but a turn of the leaf, and its introductory character is thus noticed:

Is but a _Preface_ of her worthy praise, The chief perfections of that lovely dame.

_1 Henry VI_, v, 5.

We must not forget a well-known pa.s.sage about the introduction of Printing to England, which has caused much discussion. It is where Jack Cade accuses Lord Saye:

Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school: and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used; and, contrary to the king, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper mill.

_2 Henry VI_, iv, 7.

The early-invented fable of Faustus, and the a.s.sistance given him by the Devil in the multiplication of the first printed bibles (certainly a most short-sighted step on the part of his Satanic Majesty) had got fixed in the minds of the populace, and created among the ignorant a prejudice against the Printing-press, and it was to this feeling Jack Cade appealed.

All our Chroniclers place the erection of a Printing-press in England some years too early, but no one except Shakspere has put the date so far back as 1450, the date of Jack Cade's insurrection: it is simply a blunder; but it was the Printing-press and its introduction to this country that was in the Author's brain, and the _exact_ date of that event was unknown, being probably as difficult to arrive at then as it is now.[1]

We have already noticed in how simple a manner originated that grand discovery which, instead of one perishable ma.n.u.script, produced numberless printed books, and thus enabled mankind to perpetuate for ever the knowledge they had gained. The real superiority of the Press over the pen was the easy multiplication of copies, and this was the idea in the Poet's brain when he wrote:

She carved thee for her seal and meant thereby Thou shouldst _print more_ nor let that copy die.

_Sonnet_ xi.

Type-founding has in these days arrived at such perfection, that most of the blemishes and faults common in Shakspere's time are now unknown. Under the old system of hand moulds a type founder was sure when commencing work to cast a certain number of imperfect letters, because until the mould by use got warmed, the liquid metal solidified too soon, and the body or shank of the type was shrunk, and became no inappropriate emblem of an old man's limbs whose hose would be

A world too wide for his shrunk shank.

_As You Like It_, ii, 7.

The names of the various sizes of type in the sixteenth century were few compared with our modern list; Canon, Great Primer, Pica, Long Primer, and Brevier almost complete the catalogue; and however familiar Shakspere may have been with their names, it is difficult to imagine any scene in which these technical names could be introduced with propriety. Yet, of one, Nonpareil, a new small type first introduced from Holland about 1650, and which for its beauty and excellence was much admired, Shakspere seems to have conceived a most favorable idea. Prospero, praising his daughter, calls her 'a Nonpareil' (_Tempest_, Act iii, Sc. 2); Olivia is the 'Nonpareil of beauty' (_Twelfth Night_, Act i, Scene 5); and Posthumus speaks of Imogen as the 'Nonpareil of her time' (_Cymbeline_, Act ii, Scene 5).

The exact.i.tude and precision of everything connected with the arrangement of printing from types is curiously hinted at by Touchstone, when describing the preciseness of the Courtiers' quarrels:

We quarrel _in print by the book_.

_As You Like It_, v, 4;

that is, no step was taken except according to acknowledged rules.

It often happens when a book comes to its last sheet that the text runs short, and two or three blank or vacant pages remain at the end. In the middle of one of these it is usual to place the typographer's imprint.

What compositor is there who has rejoiced in such _fat_ pages[2] but will not at once recognise the following allusion:

The _vacant_ leaves thy mind's _imprint_ will bear, And of this _book_ this learning mayst thou taste.

_Sonnet_ lxxvii.

People with a grievance write now-a-days to the Newspapers, in hope of redress. In Shakspere's time the only method to make wrongs public and to show up abuses was by the _Broadside_, in prose or rhyme, pa.s.sing from hand to hand. Many of these have survived to the present day, and are treasured up as curious relics of a by-gone age. They were frequently libellous and grievously personal, and hence the point of Pistol's remark:

Fear we broadsides?

_2 Henry IV_, ii, 4.

We must not think here that the naval 'broadside'--a volley of guns from the broadside of a ship--is meant. Shakspere does not use the word once in that sense, nor was it a conversational word in his time. That Pistol was indeed thinking of a printed broad sheet is evident from the whole sentence, which, although composed of disjointed exclamations continues with the following expressions, both strongly suggestive of the Composing room or Reader's closet:

Come we to full points here? and are etceteras nothing?

_2 Henry IV_, ii, 4.

'Come we to full points here?' This question is often a puzzler for both Compositor and Reader. Indeed, few things cause more disagreements between Author and Printer than the very loose ideas held by the former concerning punctuation. Some writers, like d.i.c.kens in his early days, insist upon ornamenting their sentences with little dashes and big dashes, with colons where commas should be, and with

_Points_ that seem impossible.

_Pericles_, v, 1.

In vain does the Printer declare that in altering the Author's unregulated punctuation,

No levelled malice infests one _comma_, _Timon_, i, 1,

the irate Author exclaims, that he

Puts the _period_ often from his place, _Lucrece_, l. 565,

and adds, 'Follow

My _point_ and period ... ill or well.

_Lear_, iv, 7.

You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent.

_Love's Labour Lost_, iv, 2.

Wherefore stand you on nice points?

_3 Henry VI_, iv, 7.

The Printer has no resource but compliance, which, however, unless the affront be very severe, will soon

Stand a comma 'tween their amities, _Hamlet_, v, 2,

and thus heal the breach, and end all happily with mutual

Notes of Admiration.

_Winter's Tale_, v, 2.