Never, fince the middle fummer's spring,

Met we on hill, in dale, foreft, or mead,
By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or on the beached margent of the fea,
To dance our ringlets to the whiftling wind,
But with thy brawls thou haft difturb'd our sport.
Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 2, S. 2.

Let it work;

For 'tis the fport, to have the engineer

Hoift with his own petar: and it fhall go hard,
But I will delve one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. 4.

Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
Well could I curfe away a winter's night,
Though standing naked on a mountain top,
Where biting cold would never let grafs grow,
And think it but a minute spent in fport.

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

His addiction was to courses vain :
His companions unletter'd, rude, and fhallow;
His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports;
And never noted in him any study,

Any retirement, any fequeftration
From open haunts and popularity.

Henry V. A. 1, S. 1.

STA R S.

Men at fome time are mafters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our ftars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Julius Cæfar, A. 1, S. 2.

Thou cold-blooded flave,

Haft thou not spoke like thunder on my fide?ă

Been fworn my foldier, bidding me depend

Upon

Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength?
And doft thou now fall over to my foes?

King John, A. 3, S. 1.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
Comets, importing change of times and ftates,
Brandish your cryftal treffes in the sky;

And with them fcourge the bad revolting stars,
That have confented unto Henry's death!

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

Henry the fifth! thy ghost I invocate;
Profper this realm, keep it from civil broils!
Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
A far more glorious ftar thy foul will make,
Than Julius Cæfar.

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

I am the prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more:

Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double reign.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 5, S. 4;

Thy lord? that is my lord, Leonatus.
O, learn'd indeed were that aftronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters;
He'd lay the future open.

Cymbeline, A. 3, S. 2.

Did practise on my ftate, your being in Ægypt
Might be my question.

I

tion.

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

my queftion.] i. e. My theme or fubject of converfa

MALONE. limited fenfe.

Mr. Malone here confiders queftion in a much too My question muft, in this place, mean my business. This is a matter, fays Cæfar (meaning the practifing on his fhould particularly inquire into.

ftate), that I A. B

STONE.

A

STONE.

Go to then; your confiderate stone1.

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

STORM.

This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
(As on a mountain top the cedar fhews,
That keeps his leaves in fpight of any ftorm)
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

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

Poor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm,
How fhall your houseless heads, and unfed fides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From feasons fuch as these? Lear, A. 3, S. 4.

S U N.

Mislike me not for my complexion,

The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd fun,
To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred.

I

Merchant of Venice, A. 2, S. 1.

your confiderate ftone.] This line is paffed by all the editors, as if they understood it, and believed it univerfally intelligible. I cannot find in it any very obvious, and hardly any poffible meaning. I would therefore read,

"Go to then, you confiderate ones."

You who diflike my franknefs and temerity of speech, and are fo confiderate and difcreet, Go to. JOHNSON.

I believe, Go to then, your confiderate fone, means only this: If I must be chidden, henceforward I will be mute as a marble ftatuc, which feems to think, though it can fay nothing. STEEVENS.

"Confiderate ftone," as Dr. Johnfon obferves, is certainly without meaning. I am perfuaded that it is a mifprint, and that we fhould read: Go to then; your confederate's tone; i. e. Go to then; as your confederate would fay. By which words, Enobarbus feems to reprove Antony for his mildnefs, and at the fame time to throw out an infinuation that Cæfar is fomewhat too affuming in his manner.

3

A. B.

To

To folemnize this day, the glorious fun
Stays in his courfe, and plays the alchymist;
Turning, with fplendour of his precious eye,
The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold.

King John, A. 3, S. 1.

It is I,

That lying, by the violet, in the fun,
Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous feafon.

Meafure for Measure, A. 2, S. 2.

Soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the fun!

Arise, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already fick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Romeo and Juliet, A. 2, S. 2.

When the fun shines, let foolish gnats make sport,
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams.
Comedy of Errors, A. 2, S. 2.

Ne'er through an arch so hurry'd the blown tide,
As the re-comforted through the gates. Why, hark

you,,

The trumpets, fackbuts, pfalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the fun dance.
Coriolanus, A. 5, S. 4.

The fun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire fhe fnatches from the fun;
The fea's a thief, whofe liquid furge refolves
The moon into falt tears; the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture ftolen
From general excrement: each thing's a thief.

Timon of Athens, A. 4, S. 3.

I was born fo high,

Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top,
And dallies with the wind, and fcorns the fun.
Richard III. A. 1, S. 3.

The weary fun hath made a golden fet,
And, by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.

Richard III. A. 5, S. 3.

The fun will not be feen to-day; what's that to me More than to Richmond? for the felf-fame heaven That frowns on me, looks fadly upon him.

Richard III. A. 5, S. 3.

Yet will I imitate the fun;
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To fmother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wondered at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
That seem to strangle him.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 1, S. 2.
Come, the fong we had last night:

Mark it, Cefario; it is old, and plain;

The fpinfters and the knitters in the fun,

And the free maids that weave their thread with

bones,

Do use to chaunt it.

Twelfth Night, A. 2, S. 4.

We fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecat's team,

From the presence of the fun,

Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolick.

Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 2.

At first I did adore a twinkling star;

But now I worship a celestial sun.

Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 2, S. 6.

All