That I will fhortly fend thy foul to heaven, Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! Richard III. A. 1, S. 2 The worm of confcience ftill be-gnaw thy foul! Richard III. A. 1, S. 31 I do not know that Englishman alive, Richard III. A. 2, S. 1. God, and our good caufe, fight upon our fide; I will from henceforth rather be myself, Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition; Which hath been fmooth as oil, foft as young down, And therefore loft that title of refpect, Which the proud foul ne'er pays, but to the proud. Henry IV. P. 1, A. 1, S. 3. This vifitation Is but to whet thy almoft blunted purpose. Hamlet, A. 3, S. 4. Uncivil Uncivil lady, To whofe ingrate and unaufpicious altars My foul the faithfull'ft offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! Twelfth Night, A. 5, S. 1. The foul and body rive not more at parting, Than greatnefs going off. Antony and Cleopatra, A. 4, S. 11. Even as I was then, is Percy now. Henry IV. P. 1, A. 3, S. 2. We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh And with advantage means to pay thy love. King John, A. 3, S. 3. We have with special foul Elected him our abfence to supply, Lent him our terror, dreft him with our love; And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power. Measure for Measure, A. 1, S. 1. Sheba was never More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue, Than this pure foul fhall be: all princely graces Shall ftill be doubled on her: truth fhall nurse her, She fhall be lov'd, and fear'd. Henry VIII. A. 5, S. 4. It is the cause, it is the caufe, my foul,- CC 3 Nor Nor fcar that whiter fkin of hers than fnow, Othello, A. 5, S. 2. You few that lov'd me, And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, Go with me, like good angels, to my end; Henry VIII. A. 2, S. 1. Ten thousand French have ta'en the facrament, To rive their dangerous artillery' I Upon no Chriftian foul but English Talbot. Henry VI. P. 1, A. 4, S. 2. SPEECH. Rude am I in iny speech, And little blefs'd with the fet phrase of peace; Othello, A. 1, S. 3, But, I do fee, you are mov'd; I am to pray you, not to ftrain my speech To rive their dangerous artillery.] I do not understand the phrafe to rive artillery; perhaps it might be to drive; we say to drive a blow, and to drive at a man, when we mean to exprefs furious affault. JOHNSON. Rive their artillery, feems to mean, charge their artillery fo much as to endanger their bursting. TOLLET. "To rive" is properly to break; and to break has fometimes the fenfe of to open. "Rive their artillery on the enemy" is, break their artillery on the enemy. The expreffion is equivalent to the modern oneopen the artillery. A. B. To To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach, Othello, A. 3, S. 3. There was speech in their dumbnefs, language in their very gesture; they look'd as they had heard of a world ranfom'd, or one deftroy'd; a notable paffion of wonder appear'd in them: but the wifeft beholder, that knew no more but feeing, could not fay, if the importance were joy or forrow. Winter's Tale, A. 5, S. 2. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lieve the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not faw the air too much with your hand, thus; but ufe all gently: for in the very torrent, tempeft, and (as I may fay) whirlwind of your paffion, you must acquire and be get a temperance, that may give it smoothness. Hamlet, A. 3, S. 2. His fpeech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 1. SPIRIT, SPIRIT S. I do applaud thy fpirit, Valentine, And think thee worthy of an empress' love. Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 5, S. 3. Goes upright with his carriage. Tempest, A. 5, S. 1. Thou art fure to lofe; and, of that natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy luftre thickens When he shines by: I fay again, thy fpirit Is all afraid to govern thee near him; But, he away, 'tis noble. Antony and Cleopatra, A. 2, S. 2. Hence Some, to kill cankers in the mufk-rose buds ; Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 2, S. 3. That in crofs-ways and floods have burial, Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 3, S. 2. I am thy father's spirit; Hamlet, A. 3, S. 4. Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night; Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Hamlet, A. 1, S. 1. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!-- Be thou a fpirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Thou com'ft in fuch a queftionable flape, That I will speak to thee. Hamlet, A. 1, S. 4. 1 My father's fpirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt fome foul play : would the night were come; Till |