Youth, beauty, wifdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime, can happy call.

All's well that ends well, A, 2, S. 1.

I met a lion,

Who glar'd upon me, and went furly by,

Without annoying me:

And, yesterday, the bird of night did fit,
Even at noon-day, upon the market-place,
Hooting, and fhrieking.

I do believe they are portentous things
Unto the climate, that they point upon.

Julius Cafar, A. 1,

To whom do lions caft their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would ufurp their den.
Whose hand is that the foreft bear doth lick?
Not his, that spoils her young before her face.

S. 3

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

Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whofe arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whofe fhade the ramping lion flept;

Whose top branch over-peer'd Jove's fpreading tree,
And kept low fhrubs from winter's powerful wind.

Henry VI. P. 3, A. 5, S. 2,

Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop,
As doth a lion in a herd of neat :

prime.] Youth; the fpring or morning of life.

JOHNSON,

Should we not read pride? Dr. Johnfon explains prime to mean youth; and indeed I do not fee any other plaufible interpretation that can be given of it. But how does that fuit with the context? Happiness and pride, may fignify, I think, the pride of happiness, the proudeft state of happiness.

I think we should read,

"That happiness in prime can happy call."

i. c. happiness in the greatest degree.

R

TYRWHIT

A. B,

Or

Or as a bear, encompafs'd round with dogs;
Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry,
The reft ftand all aloof, and bark at him.

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

3

I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 1, S. 2.

LOVE, LOVER.

Gentle lady,

When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;
And then I told you true.

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

Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours!
Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy reft;
Be oppofite all planets of good luck

To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!

Richard III. A. 4, S. 4.

The leifure, and the fearful time

Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,

And ample interchange of fweet discourse,

I had rather beat my liver with drinking.] To know why the lady is fo averfe from heating her liver, it must be remembered, that a heated liver is fuppofed to make a pimpled face.

JOHNSON.

Dr. Johnfon is mistaken, I believe, in fuppofing that the lady is thinking of a pimpled face. The feat of love was by ancient writers fuppofed to be in the liver. The foothfayer fays to Charmion, "You shall be more beloving than belov'd." If that is the cafe, replies she, I had rather heat my liver with drinking than with love.

A. B.

Which

Which fo long fundred friends fhould dwell upon, God give us leisure for these rites of love!

Richard III. A. 5, S. 3.

Perhaps, he loves you now;

And now no foil, nor cautel, doth befmirch
The virtue of his will: but, you must fear,
His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is fubject to his birth.

Hamlet, A. 1, S. 3.

O, Hamlet, what a falling off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch, whofe natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!

Hamlet, A. 1, S. 5.

Hafte me to know it; that I, with wings as fwift
As meditation, or the thoughts of love,

May fweep to my revenge.

This is the very ecstasy of love:

Hamlet, A. 1, S. 5.

Whose violent property foredoes itself,

And leads the will to defperate undertakings,

As oft as any paffion under heaven,

That does afflict our natures. Hamlet, A. 2, S. 1.

The inftances, that fecond marriage move,

Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. 2.

There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of wick, or fnuff, that will abate it;
And nothing is at a like goodness ftill;
For goodnefs, growing to a pleurify,
Dies in his own too much.

Hamlet, A. 4, S. 7.

JOHNSON,

A. B.

All

The inftances.] The motives. We should rather explain "inftances" by circumftances. We cannot well fay, the motives that move.

R 2

All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer

With fighs of love.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 3, S. 2.

You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And ftol'n my love's heart from him?

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 3, S. 2.

Lovers and madmen have fuch feething brains,
Such shaping fantasies that apprehend
More than cool reafon ever comprehends.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 1.

Before the time I did Lyfander fee,
Seem'd Athens as a paradife to me:
O then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S. 1.
As waggish boys themselves in game forswear,
So the boy Love is perjur'd every where.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S. 1, Ah me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or hiftory,

The course of true love never did run smooth.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S. 1,

Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can tranfpofe to form and dignity.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S, I,

Your wrongs do fet a fcandal on my fex:
We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
We fhould be woo'd, and were not made to woo.
Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 2, S, 2,

O fpirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the fea, nought enters there,
But falls into abatement and low price,

Even in a minute! Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 1.

She

She never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek..

Twelfth Night, A. 2, S. 4.

O, what a deal of fcorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murd'rous guilt fhews not itself more foon
Than love that would feem hid.

Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 1.

Such as I am, all true lovers are;

Unftaid and fkittish in all motions elfe,

Save, in the conftant image of the creature
That is belov'd.

Twelfth Night, A. 2, S. 4.
I cannot love him :

Yet I fuppofe him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great eftate, of fresh and stainless youth;
And in dimenfion, and the shape of nature,
A gracious perfon.

Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 5.

Write loyal cantons of contemned love,
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babbling goffip of the air
Cry out Olivia!

Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 5,

If lufty Love fhould go in queft of beauty,
Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous Love fhould go in fearch of virtue,
Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
If Love ambitious fought a match of birth,
Whofe veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch?
King John, A. 2, S. 2.

He counfels a divorce: a lofs of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never loft her luftre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her,
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king.
Henry VIII. A. 2, S. 2,