[163] _condition_] F1. _conditions_ F2 F3 F4.
[170] _particular_] _particulars_ Capell.
[171] _inter'gatories_] _interrogatories_ F4. _interrogatory_ Capell.
[175] [Dumain lifts up his hand in anger. Johnson.
[182] _your lordship_] Pope. _your Lord_ Ff. _you Lord_ Rowe (ed. 1).
[195] After this line Johnson supposes one to be lost.
_gold_] _golden store_ or _golden ore_ Steevens conj. _gold, I speak it_ Jackson conj. (reading lines 208-210 in this order 209, 210, 208).
[207] First Sold. [reads] Int. Let. Ff. Inter. reads the letter. Rowe.
[209] _well made_] _ill made_ Capell conj. _half made_ Jackson conj.
_match, and well_] _match well and_ Hanmer. _watch, and well_ Johnson conj. (who would read the lines 207-210 in the following order, 209, 207, 208, 210).
[212] _not_] _but_ Pope (ed. 2. Theobald).
[214] _when_] _where_ Collier (Collier MS.).
[223] _the_] F3 F4. _your_ F1 F2. _our_ Capell.
[233] _an egg_] _an Ag._ (i.e. _Agnes_) Becket conj.
[235] _in breaking_] F1. _breaking_ F2 F3 F4.
[254] _out-villained_] _out-villanied_ S. Walker conj.
[259] _quart d'écu_] Pope. _cardceue_ F1. _cardecue_ F2 F3 F4.
[266] _o' the_] _a' th_ F1 F2 F4, _at'h_ F3.
[288] [Unblinding him.] Rowe (ed. 1). [Unbinding him. Rowe (ed. 2). [Unmuffling him. Steevens.
[296] _the sonnet_] F1 F2. _the same sonnet_ F3 F4. _that same sonnet_ Rowe.
[312] After this S. Walker conjectures that a line has been omitted.
SCENE IV. _Florence. The_ Widow's _house._
_Hel._ That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, One of the greatest in the Christian world Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: Time was, I did him a desired office, 5 Dear almost as his life; which gratitude Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd His Grace is at Marseilles; to which place We have convenient convoy. You must know, 10 I am supposed dead: the army breaking, My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, And by the leave of my good lord the king, We'll be before our welcome.
_Wid._ Gentle madam, You never had a servant to whose trust 15 Your business was more welcome.
_Hel._ Nor you, mistress, Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, As it hath fated her to be my motive 20 And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play With what it loathes for that which is away. 25 But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, Under my poor instructions yet must suffer Something in my behalf.