166 NOTES AND QUERIES. 
I find it also much misinterpreted by the editors 
of the Harleian Miscellany, Oldys and Park, in 
the third volume of whose edition, London, 1808, 
it occurs twice in “ Ane Admonition of the trew 
Lordis, &c., 1571,” first at p. 416. : 
“That they enterit thame in danger, and supportit 
thame not in mister, so mekle as to cume to lawder and luik 
for thame. thay socht as he that socht his wyfe 
drowned in the river againis the streime.” 
Second at p. 418.: 
“The Bischop being lodged, as he seildom of befoir, 
quhar he might persaif the plesure of that crueltie with 
all hys senses, and helpe the murtheraris, if mister had 
bene.” 
The reader will perceive at once that mister 
here means “need” in both examples, and has 
nothing to do with “secresy,” as the context of 
the former of them misled the editors to conjec- 
ture. It occurs again and again in the Romeunt 
of the Rose. Take two examples, 1. 5617., “ That 
he of meat hath: no mistere;” and 1. 6081., “If 
that men had mister of thee.” It is also met with 
in Golding’s translation of Czesar’s Commentaries, 
A.D. 1565, the seuenth booke, fol. 189.: ‘* As° for 
the horsemen there could be no mistre of their 
helpe in a fennye and moorysh ground.” In the 
original, “‘Equitum vero operam neque in loco 
palustri desiderari debuisse.” 
Your Five Gallants, Act III. Se. 2., vol. ii. 
p- 268. : 
“ Pur. ’Sfoot, I perceive I have been the chief up- 
holder of this gallant all this while: it appears true we 
that pay dearest for our pasture are ever likely worse 
used. *Sfoot, he has a nag can run for nothing, has his 
choice, nay, and gets by the running of her.” 
On this passage Mr. Dyce's note is “ pasture] 
Query, ‘pastime.’” There appears to me to be 
no query whatever; the whole language of the 
speaker proves that pasture is indisputably right : 
the metaphor is in keeping throughout, as “ pas- 
ture,” “nag,” “runs.” And it partially occurs 
again in the Roaring Girl, Act IL. Se. 3., vol. ii. 
p- 498. : 
“ §, Davy. My son, Jack Dapper, then shall run with 
him, 
All in one pasture.” 
A run at grass is a phrase familiar to every horse- 
keeper, and nag, hackney, or hack, was a term 
constantly applied to the sort of cattle Pursnet 
speaks about; so constantly, indeed, that if the 
vagaries of Shakspeare’s commentators were not 
past the size of wondering, one might well be as- 
tonished at the temerity and blindness of those 
who would alter “nag” in Antony and Cleopa- 
tra, into hag, in the expression “ ribaudred nag ;” 
the epithet “ribaudred” being, as I conceive, 
only a misprint (if it be a misprint) for ribaudry, 
i.e. ribaldry, which, like harlotry, mockery, beg- 
gary, is sometimes used adjectively. Johnson, 
indeed, with that strong common sense which dis- 
[294 S. No 9., Mar. 1, ’56. 
tinguishes him from most other expositors of 
Shakspeare, adheres to the authorised reading, 
but on grounds that remind a clodhopper what a 
sad muff the cockney equestrian of Rotten Row 
proves himself, when he ventures so far out of his 
element as to lecture upon the natural history of 
animals; for says this sole arbiter of the English 
tongue, the “ brieze or cestrum, the fly that stings 
cattle, proves that nag is the right word.” How 
the brize that stings cattle (that is, burrows in 
the hide of a beast to deposit its eggs there), but 
never meddles with a horse, can prove that nag is 
the right word, baffles a country wit. Not less 
marvellous is the assertion of the same commen- 
tator, in a note upon a complaint of one of the 
Gadshill carriers in Henry IV., that bots are 
worms; unless by worms are meant maggots, 
which the warmth and moisture of a horse’s sto- 
mach engenders from the eggs deposited chiefly 
upon the inside of its knees, and fetlocks beneath, 
by an insect likewise called a brize, in Hereford- 
shire a bree, but quite distinct from that which 
maddens cattle, thence licked off by the animal’s 
tongue, or inside lip, to such an extent in some 
few cases, as to lead to the coats of the stomach 
being gnawed clean through, and riddled by these 
parasites. Once more, in a note, Henry V., 
Act III. Se. 5., upon the words “can sodden 
water, a drench for surreyned jades,” the same 
great authority tells us, “ The exact meaning of 
surreyned I do not know; it is common to give 
horses overridden or feverish, ground malt and 
hot water mixed, which is called a mash; to this 
he alludes.” This is wonderful, so wonderful 
that it is out of all whooping. Either the Doctor 
thought that drench and mash were the same 
thing, or could make nothing of his author, with- 
out substituting mash in his explanation for drench 
that he was to explain. Now a drench of malt 
mash for a horse would be much on a par with a 
draught of mashed potatoes for a man. But what 
renders the learned lexicographer wholly inex- 
cusable is, that Shakspeare calls this same drench, 
in the very same line, and by a name in apposition 
with it, barley-broth; nay, more, makes the 
speaker complain that it appears to warm the 
blood of the English more than wine does that of 
the French; and surely Johnson did not believe, 
either out of his own experience, or from report, 
that his countrymen drank malt mashes. A quart 
of good ale, the barley-broth meant by Shak- 
speare, is beyond question a most useful stimulant 
for a flagging jaded horse; and notwithstanding 
the Constable’s sneer, gives a very comfortable 
fillip to a weary man. And had Johnson ever 
after a long run with hounds found himself at 
nightfall some fifty miles distant from home, 
before his horse reached its stable, he would have 
learnt both the meaning of surreined, when his 
faltering steed began to toss its head, thrust out 
