The mean time, lady, I'll raise the preparation of a war Shall stain your brother'. Antony and Cleopatra, A. 3, S. 4.

O, wiand man of honour, that he fell off, and revolted by the chance of war. The poet certainly wrote,

" But 'bides the chance of war.” i. e. He never did revolt, but abides the chance of war, as a prifoner.

WARBURTON. The plain meaning is, he came not into the enemy's power but by the chance of war.

To 'bide the chance of war may well enough fignify, to stand the hazard of a battle, but can scarcely mean to endure the severity of a prison. Johnson.

Notwithstanding the attempt of Dr. Johnson to explain the present reading, I cannot help thinking that the passage is corrupt. The poet may have written,

“ He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

" But try'd the chance of war. The meaning will then be, thạt Mortimer neither revolted to the enemy, nor hung back during the fight : that he did his utmoit.

A. B. "I'll raise the preparation of a war

Shall sain your brother.] Thus the printed copies. But sure, Antony, whole business here is to mollify Octavia, does it with a very ill grace; and 'tis a very odd way of satisfying her, to tell her, the war he raises, shall stain, i. e, çaft an odium upon her brother. I have no doubt but we must read, with the addition only of a single letter,

“ Shall strain your brother, i. c. shall lay him under constraints ; shall put him to such shifts, that he shall neither be able to make progress against, or to prejudice me.

THEOBALDI I do not see but fiain may be allowed to remain unaltered, meaning no more than fhame or disgrace.

JOHNSON. " Stain," I think, is right, only that it should be printed 'ftain for fuftain, or support. The context will warrant this reading. Antony says, that if he loses his honour, he loses himself: still, adds he, to shew you how much I am inclined to be well with Cæsar, yourself shall gò between us, and I will make preparation to support him, if he be so minded as to act “ So your desires are yours,

continues he, i, t. you bare your wishes for a perfe&t reconciliation: be quick, and, if pofjible; effect it. To this O&tavia returns him thanks, which she would certainly not have done, had he insinuated that he meant 10 llame or disgrace her brother. When it appears to you, proceeds Antony, zirre this begins (i.c. where there is any fault),

turn

with me.

O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier's pole' is fall’n; young boys, and girls,
Are level now with men.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 4, S. 13.

Tell the constable,
We are but warriors for the working-day:
Our gayness, and our gilt, are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field.

Henry V. A. 4, S. 3.

Thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike mate .

Henry VI. P.1, A. 1, S. 2.

W A VE S.

Like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see. Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 2.

W E A R I N E S S.

Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Cymbeline, A. 3, §. 6.

turn your displeasure that way. From all which we may infer, that he was willing to affift Cæfar, if in honour he could do so. The poet wrote 'ftain on account of the metre.

A. B. The foldier's polc.] He at whom the soldiers pointed, as at a pageant held high for obfervation.

Johnson. Perhaps by “ foldier's pole,” is meant the ftandard-the principal military ensign.

A. B. 2 If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.] “ Mate” should be

Meet is here used as a substantive, and in the sense of equal--one who may be allowed to enter the lists with him,

A. B.

meet.

WELCOM E.

W EL COM E.

Sir, you are very welcome to our house :
It must appear in other ways than words,
Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.

Merchant of Venice, A. 5, S, I.
A hundred thousand welcomes : I could

weep,
And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy. Wel.

come.
A curse begin at very root of's heart,
That is not glad to see thee !

Coriolanus, A. 2, S. 1.
- Therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philofophy.

Hamlet, A. 1, S. 5.
Hermione,

.
How thou lov'st us, shew in our brother's welcome;
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart.

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

Pray you, bid
These unknown friends to us welcome ; for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known. »

Winter's Tale, A. 4, S. 3.

W 1 I DO W.
Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'a kings!
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens !
Let not the hours of this ungodly day
Wear out the day in peace. King Fohn, A. 3, S. 1.
And will the yet abase her eyes on me,
That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?
On me, whofe all not cquals Edward's moiety?

Richard III. A. 1, S. 2.

- See

See what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being su'd to, one that humbly fues;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care :
For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.

Richard III. A. 4, S. 4.

- A poor petitioner,
A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
Seduc'd the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To base declension. Richard III. A. 3, S. 7.

If á mán do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Much ado about nothing, A. 5, S. 2.

If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife :---
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife :
O insupportable! O heavy hour!
Methinks, it should be now a huge eclipse
Of fun and moon; and that the affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteracion.

. Qtbello, A.

52

S. 2.'

WIN D S.

I am a feather for each wind that blows.

Winter's Tale, A. 2, S. 3.
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds.

Tempeft, A. 1, S. 2.

The

The elements Of whoin your swords are temper’d, may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish One dowle that's in my plume. Tempest, A.

Tempest, A. 3, S. 3•
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our fteeples, drown'd the

cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,
Singe my white head!

Lear, A. 3, S. 2.
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes ;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretells a tempest, and a blustering day.

Henry IV. P. i, A. 5, S. 1. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The farfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind ! How like a prodigal doth she return; With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged fails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

Merchant of Venice, A. 2, S. 6. To be intprison’d in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.

Measure for Measure, A. 3, S. 1. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs; which falling in the land, Have every pelting' river made so proud, That they have over-borne their continents, Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 2, S. 2.

WINE.

pelting.] The meaning is pla'nly despicable, mean, forry,

curetched