A similar exclamation is to be found in three other places in the same play, where the sense is obvious.  Mr. Halliwell refers to one of them on p. 77,—­“Death a man! is she delivered!” The others are,—­“Death a justice! are we in Normandy?” (p. 98); and “Death a discretion! if I should prove a foole now,” or, as given by Mr. Halliwell, “Death, a discretion!” Now let us apply Mr. Halliwell’s explanation.  “Death a man!” you might as well think Death was a man, that is, one of the men!—­or a discretion, that is, one of the discretions!—­or a justice, that is, one of the quorum!  We trust Mr. Halliwell may never have the editing of Bob Acres’s imprecations.  “Odd’s triggers!” he would say, “that is, as odd as, or as strange as, triggers.”

Vol.  III., p. 77,—­“the vote-killing mandrake.”  Mr. Halliwell’s note is, “vote-killing.—­’Voice-killing,’ ed. 1613.  It may well he doubted whether either be the correct reading.”  He then gives a familiar citation from Browne’s “Vulgar Errors.”  “Vote-killing” may be a mere misprint for “note-killing,” but “voice-killing” is certainly the better reading.  Either, however, makes sense.  Although Sir Thomas Browne does not allude to the deadly property of the mandrake’s shriek, yet Mr. Halliwell, who has edited Shakspeare, might have remembered the

  “Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan,”
  (2d Part Henry VI., Act III.  Scene 2.)

and the notes thereon in the variorum edition.  In Jacob Grimm’s “Deutsche Mythologie,” (Vol.  II. p. 1154,) under the word Alraun, may be found a full account of the superstitions concerning the mandrake.  “When it is dug up, it groans and shrieks so dreadfully that the digger will surely die.  One must, therefore, before sunrise on a Friday, having first stopped one’s ears with wax or cotton-wool, take with him an entirely black dog without a white hair on him, make the sign of the cross three times over the alraun, and dig about it till the root holds only by thin fibres.  Then tie these by a string to the tail of the dog, show him a piece of bread, and run away as fast as possible.  The dog runs eagerly after the bread, pulls up the root, and falls stricken dead by its groan of pain.”

These, we believe, are the only instances in which Mr. Halliwell has ventured to give any opinion upon the text, except as to a palpable misprint, here and there.  Two of these we have already cited.  There is one other,—­“p. 46, line 10. Iuconstant.—­An error for inconstant.”  Wherever there is a real difficulty, he leaves us in the lurch.  For example, in “What you Will,” he prints without comment,—­

  “Ha! he mount Chirall on the wings of
  fame!” (Vol.  I. p. 239,)

which should be “mount cheval,” as it is given in Mr. Dilke’s edition (Old English Plays, Vol.  II. p. 222).  We cite this, not as the worst, but the shortest, example at hand.