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I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:
Julius Cæfar, A. 3, S. 2.
Julius Cæfar, A. 3, S. 2. I have neither wit, nor words, -nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on; I tell you what, which you yourselves do know; Shew you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb
mouths! And bid them speak for me.
Julius Cæfar, A. 3, S. 2. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandfire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By beeing peevish? Merchant of Venice, A. 1, S. 1.
The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.
Merchant of Venice, A. I, S. 2. Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you
Merchant of Venice, A. 3, S. 2,
Lord Angelo is precise;
Measure for Measure, A. 1, S. 4.
A man whose blood
Meas. for Meas. A, 1, S. 5.
Joan of Arc hath been
Henry VI. P. 1, A. 5, S. 5.
King Henry's blood,
Henry IV. P. 2, A. 4, S. I.
Comedy of Errors, A. 5, S. 1.
Henry VI. P. 3, A. 5, S. 6.
*Such a jaded groom.] This epithet appears to me so strange, that I sufpect some corruption. The quarto reads either lady groom, or jady groom, it is difficult to say which.
MALONE. “Jady groom" is the right reading (jadis, Fr.) “heretofore." The sense of the passage is-Thou who wert heretofore a groom, and held my stirrup.
For who liv'd king but I could dig his grave?
Henry VI. P. 3, A. 5, S. 2.
His sword (death's stamp) Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a thing of blood, whose every motion Was tim’d with dying cries'. Coriolanus, A. 2, S. 2.
The breasts of Hecuba,
Succeed thy father
All's well that ends well, A. I, S. 1.
gling, His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd
Was tim'd with dying cries.] The cries of the flaughtered regularly followed his motions, as music and a dancer accompany each other.
JOHNSON. There is no necessity for this ludicrous explanation. The sense is easy. Wherever he shewed himself the cries of dying inen were heard,
And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdu’d.
Henry VI. P.2, A. 3, S. 2.
Timon of Athens, A. 4, S.12.
Richard III. A. 1, S. 2.
Richard III. A. I, S. 2.
Richard III. A. 4, S. 2.
I'll einpty all these veins,
Henry IV. P.1, A, I, S. 3.
She bids you
He presently,—as greatness knows itself-
Henry IV. P. I, A. 4, S. 3:
For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.
Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 2. Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear, Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it love: for, at your age, The hey-day in the blood is tame, 'tis humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this! Hamlet, A. 3, S. 4. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a ininute.
Hamlet, A. I, S. 3.
What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens, To wash it white as snow? Hamlet, A. 3, S. 3.