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Take thou the pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou doft shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. 1.
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive

Three thousand ducats : I'll not answer that:
But, say, it is my humour; is it answer'd?

Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. 1.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are a pound of flesh :
Then take thy bond. Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. T.

Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.--Eyes look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace ! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss.

Romeo and Juliet, A. 5, S. 3.
Hate all, curse all ; shew charity to none;
But let the familh'd flesh slide from the bone
Ere thou relieve the beggar : give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men.

Timon of Athens, A. 4, S. 4.
Lay her i' the earth ;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring !—I tell thee, churlish priest,
A ministring angel shall my sister be,
When thou liest howling. Hannlet, A.


To die ;-to sleep ;-
No more?-and, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ach, and the thousand natural shocks


S. 1.

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That flesh is heir to,—'tis a confummation
Devoutly to be with’d.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. 1.

But we all are men, In our own natures frail; and capable Of our flesh, few are angels. Henry VIII. A. 5, S. 2.

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This man's brow, like to a title leaf,
Foretells the nature of a tragick volume :
So looks the strand, whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witness'd usurpation.

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


The ruddock would, With charitable bill (O bill, fore-shaming Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie Without a monument !) bring thee all this; Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, To winter-ground thy corfe.' Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2. With fairest flowers, Whilft summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy fad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath. Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2.

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But we all are men,
In our own natures frail; and capable

Of our flesh, few are angels.] If this passage means any thing, it may mean, few are perfečt while they remain in their mortal capacity.

STEEVENS. May not Shakespeare have written frail and culpable? The change is easy. I would read and point thus :

We all are men,
In our own natures frail and culpable :
Of our flesh few are angels,

A. B.

O Pro

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O Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.

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

The fairest flowers o' the season Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers, Which some call, nature's bastards : of that kind Our ruftick garden's barren.

Winter's Tale, A. 4, S. 3. - Like the bee tolling from every

flower The virtuous sweets'. Henry IV. P. 2, A. 4, S. 4.

Be advis'd;
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself: We may out-run,
By violent swiftnets, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Henry VIII. A. 1, S.I.

Like a jolly troop of huntsmen come
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
Dy'd in the dying flaughter of their foes.

King John, A, 2, S. 2.
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numb’ring our Ave-Maries with our beads ?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?

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

1 like the bee tolling from every flower

The virtuous sweets.] The reading of the quarto is tolling. The folio reads culling: Tolling is taking toll. STEEVENS.

Tolling" is not in this place taking toll, or tribute, but fimply taking away. The sense is the same as culling. A. B.



Henry, your sovereign,
Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp’d,
His realm a daughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil,

Henry VI. P. 3, A. 5, S. 4.

I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents, by flood, and field; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe, And fold to Navery:

Othello, A. I, S.

I have kept back their foes, While they have told their money, and let out Their coin upon large interest; I myself, Rich only in large hurts. All those, for this? Is this the balsam that the usuring senate Pours into captain's wounds ?

Timon of Athens, A. 3, S. 5.


FOOL, FOOLS, FOLLY. God give them wisdom, that have it: and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 5. The lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.

Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 1. There is no slander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail : nor no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.

Twelfth Night, A. I, S. 5. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit; He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of the persons, and the time;


And, like the haggard, checks at every feather
That comes before his eye. Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 1,

- I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of. Tempeft, A.

The loyalty, well held to fools, does make
Our faith mere folly :-Yet, he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earns a place i' the story.

Ant. and Cleop. A. 3, S. 11.

You may as well Forbid the sea for to obey the moon, As or, by oath, remove, or counsel, shake The fabrick of his folly. Winter's Tale, A. I, S. 2.

If thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough, what monsters you make of them.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. i.

I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please; for so fools have: And they that are most galled with my folly, They most must laugh. As you like it, A. 2, S. 7. Thou art a fool: fhe robs thee of thy naine; And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more vir


When she is gone. As you like it, A. 1, S. 3.

When I did hear The motley fool thus moral on the time, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep contemplative.

As you like it, A. 2, S. 7. *And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life.

Lear, A. 5, S. 3,

And And my poor fool is hang d.) This is an expression of tenderwels for his dead Cordelia (not his fool, as some have thought),


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