Imatges de pàgina

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven; If that be true, I shall see my boy again.

King John, A. 3, S. 4. Where is your darling Rutland ? Look, York; I stain'd this napkin with the blood That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, Made issue from the bosom of the boy : And, if thine eyes can water for his death, I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.

Henry VI. P. 3, A, 1, S. 4.

My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a mole-hill should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries, Deny not.

Coriolanus, A. 5, S. 3.

Why doft not speak ? Think’lt thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs ?-Daughter, speak you; He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy; Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons. Coriolanus, A. 5, S. 3. We were, fair queen, Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to day, And to be boy eternal. Winter's Tale, A. 1, S. 2. That most ungrateful boy there, by your side, From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth Did I redeem ; a wreck past hope he was : His life I gave him, and did thereto add

Twelfth Night, A. 5. S. 1.

My love.

Β R Ε Α Τ Η.
The deep-revolving witty Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels :



Hath he so long held out with me untir'd,
And stops he now for breath?

Richard III. A. 4, S. 2.

Hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thoul’t observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent.

Timon, A. 4, S. 3She speaks poniards, and every word stabs : if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the North star,

Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 1.

Here are sever'd lips, Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a bar Should sunder such sweet friends : here in her hairs The painter plays the spider, and hath woven A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,, Fafter than gnats in cobwebs.

Merchant of Venice, A. 3, S. 2,

Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction : never anger Made good guard for itself.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 4, S. 1,

Still, methinks, There is an air comes from her ; what fine chisel Could ever yet cut breath ? Let no man mock me, For I will kiss her. Winter's Tale, A. 5, S. 3. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice herself to break her sword! Once more.Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after.

Othello, A. 5, S. 2. A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; Beyond all manner of so much I love you".

Lear, A. I, S. I,


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Beyond all inanner of so much.] Beyond all assignable quan



But this swift business
I must uneasy make, left too light winning
Make the prize light.

Tempest, A. 1, S. 2.
This is no mortal business, nor no found
That the earth owes.

Tempeft, A. 1, S. 2. I will seek him, sir, presently ;' convey the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you withal.

Lear, A. 1, S. 2.

My business in this state
Made me a looker on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble,
Till it o'er-run the stew.

Measure for Measure, A. 5, S. 1. Our hands are full of business : let's away; Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 3, S. 2.

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tity. I love you beyond limits, and cannot say it is so much, for how much soever I should name, it would be yet more.

Johnson. The present reading is harsh. I would strike out the preposition of, and read and point thus:

" A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable

6 Beyond all manner. So much I love you.' i. e. A love which cannot be expressed in words---a love of which you can have no conception.

A. B. Convey the business.] Convey, for introduce. But convey is a fine word, as alluding to the practice of clandestine conveying goods, so as not to be found upon the felon. WARBURTON,

To convey, is rather to carry through, than to introduce; in this place it is to manage artfully. We say of a juggler, that he has a clean conveyance.

JOHNSON. “ Convey the business” can mean nothing more than make him acquainted with the business, or break the business to him. Edmund, though he really means to manage artfully, would never intimate so much to his father; but on the contrary, appear open and plain in his dealing

A. B.

I am

I am sorry
To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
The business present." Henry VIII. A. 1, S. t.



RAISE her but for this her without-door form,
(Which on my

faith deserves high speech) and
The shrug, the hum, or ha ; these petty brands,
That calumny doth use :-Oh, I ain out,
That mercy does; for calumny will fear
Virtue itself;—these shrugs, these hums, and ha's,
When you have said, she's goodly, come between,
you can say she's honest.

Winter's Tale, A. 2, S. 1. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Hamlet, A. 3, S. 1.

My place i' the state,
Will so your accusation over-weigh,

shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny.

Measure for Measure, A. 2, S. 4,
I am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my

chaff And corn shall fly asunder : for, I know,

I am sorry

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To see you ta'on from liberty, to look on

The business present.] I am sorry that I am obliged to be present, and an eye-witness of your loss of liberty. Johnson.

Does it not rather mean, I am sorry you are deprived of liberty, by which you will see, or discover, what bufiness is now in hand. or going forward ?

A. B,

There's none stands under more calumnious tongues, Than I myself.

Henry VIII. A. 5, S. 1. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape ; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtues strikes.

Measure for Measure, A. 3, S. 2.

C Α Ν Ν ο Ν.

- Depart in peace :
Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
For ere thou canst report I will be there,
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard :
So, hence!

King John, A. 1, S. .
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls.

King John, A. 2, S. 1.

C A P A C I T Y.

Your capacity Is of that nature, that to your huge store Wise things seem foolish, and rich things but poor.

Love's Labour, Loft, A. 5. S. 2,

Celerity is never more admir'd,
That by the negligent.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 3, S. 7.

And what art thou, thou idol ceremony ?
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of mortal griefs, than do thy worshippers ?
What are thy rents ? what are thy comings-in ?
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men ?


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