1

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

Julius Cæfar, A. 1, S. 1,

These old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary :
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.

Timon of Athens, A. 2, S. 2.
Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou shew'st thee in a child,
Than the sea-monster!

Lear, A. 1, S. 4
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude ;
? Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
As you like it, A. 2, S. 7.

Filial

I Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen.] Dr. Warburton observesthe winter wind, the song says, is to be preferred to man's ingra. titude. But why? Because it is not seen. But this was not only an aggravation of the injury, as it was done in fecret, not seen, but was the very circumstance that made the keenness of the ingratitude of his faithless courtiers. I would therefore read,

" Because thou art not sheen," is . e. fhining, smiling, like an ungrateful court-servant.

WARBURTON Sir T. Hanmer alters the line to

“Thou causest not that teen." Dr. Farmer reads,

6 Because the heart's not seen.”' And Musgrave,

" Because thou art foreseen.” But all, I think, are wrong. The lines are certainly very, unmeaning as they at present stand. A trifling alteration, how

ever,

Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?“But I will punish home :-
No, I will weep no more. Lear, A. 3, S. 4.
I hate ingratitude more in a man,
Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood. Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 4.

I N
He hath never fed on the dainties that are bred
in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he
hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished.

Love's Labour Loft, A. 4, §. 2.
Taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st
him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; let there bę
gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a
goose-pen, no matter. Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 2.

INNOCENCE.
We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i the sun,
And bleat the one at the other; what we chang'd,
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing.

Winter's Tale, A. I, S. 20.

1

ever, will do away the objection raised against them by Dr. War.
burton, and give them the sense and elegance they want. I
read,

Thy tooth is not so keen:-
Beside, thou art not seen,

Altho' thy breath be rude.
The meaning of the whole will be winter wind, thy tooth
is not so keen as man's ingratitude; and though thy breath be
rude, yet as thou art not seen, thou canst not insult us by thy
frowns, by haughty and fupercilious looks.

A. B.

P4

He

.

He may foften at the sight o'the child; The silence often of

pure

innocence Persuades, when speaking fails.

Winter's Tale, A. 2, S. 2.

Hence bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence !

Tempest, A. 3, S. 1.

IN SO L E N C E.

Now breathless

wrong
Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of ease;
And pursy infolence shall break his wind,
With fear, and horrid flight.

Timon of Athens, A. 5, S. 5. * I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, If thou proceed in this thy insolence.

Henry VI. P. I, A. 1, S. 3.

INSTINCT.

Thou know'st, I am as valiant as Hercules : but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter ; I was a coward on instinct.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 2, S. 4.

I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinals hat.] This means, I believe, I'll fumble thee into thy great hat, and shake thee, as bran and meal are Naken in a fieve.

STEEVENS. Mr. Steevens is mistaken, I think, in fuppofing that the cardinal is to be tumbled into his great hat, and shaken as meal is Shaken in & heve.

To canvas a matter, is to fift, examine, or inquire particularly into it. The meaning of, “ I'll canvas thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,” is—I will make inquiry into thy conduct, and lay thee open to the world, notivithstanding the hat thou wearest

, and which thou mayît perhaps imagine will serve to protect thee.

A. B. 'Tis

'Tis wonderful,
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen from other ; valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been fow'd ! Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2.

JO V E. I have lin’d her : but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful ! What can be said ? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 4.

Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I fit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say,—Thus mine enemy fell;
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words. Cymbeline, A. 3, S. 3.
For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
This realm dismantled was
Of Jove himself; and now reigns here
A very, very-peacock '. Hamlet, A. 3, S. 2.

* A very, very--peacock.] This alludes to a fable of the birds choosing a king - instead of the eagle, a peacock. Pope.

I think Hamlet is setting his father's and uncle's characters in contrast to each other; and means to say, that by his father's death the state was stripped of a god-like monarch, and that now in his stead reigned the most despicable, poisonous animal that could be ; a mere paddock or toad.

THEOBALD. I am persuaded that the poet wrote, “ a very, very,-cock," i. e, a cowardly, effeminate fellow,

A, B.

mea

JOY,

JOY, JO Y S.

O my soul's joy! If after every tempest

' come such calmness, May the winds blow till they have wakend death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus high, and duck again as low As hell's from heaven!

Othello. A. 2, S. 1. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping! Mucb ado about nothing, A. 1, S, I. There appears much joy in him

; even so much, that joy could not shew itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Much ado about nothing, A. I, S. 1. - There is such confusion in my powers, As after some oration fairly spoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleased multitude; Where every something, being blent together, Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, Exprest, and not expreft.

Merchant of Venice, A. 3, S. 2. I have no joy of this contract to-night : It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Ere one can say

it lightens.

Romeo and Juliet, A. 2, S. 2.

Note him : He was not fad; for he would shine on those That make their looks by his: he was not merry, Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay In Egypt with his joy.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 1,

I S L E.
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd ifle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This