To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue :
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ;
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy.

7. Cæfar, A. 3, S. 1.
Good father cardinal, cry thou, amen,
To my keen curses; for without my wrong,
There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.

King John, A. 3, S. I.
To arms! be champion of our church!
Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse,
A mother's curse, on her revolting son.

King Jobn, A. 3, S. 1.

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses.

Coriolanus, A. 5, S. 3.

Wherefore should I curse them?
Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,
I would invent as bitter searching terms,
As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
With full as many signs of deadly hate,
As lean-fac'd envy in her loathsome cave.

Hen. VI, P. 2. Ą. 3, S. 2.
Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven? -
Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick

curses !
Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king!

Rich. III. A. 1, S. 3.
What! I that kill'd her husband, and his father,
To take her in her heart's extremelt hate;
F4

With

With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of her hatred by :
With God, her conscience, and these bars against

me!
And I no friends to back my suit withal,
But the plain devil, and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her--all the world to nothing !

Rich. III. A. I, S. 2.
Sir, will you, with those infirmities she owes,'
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our
Take her, or leave her? Lear, A. 1, S. 1.

Blasts and fogs upon thee!
The untented woundings of a father's curse,
Pierce every

sense about thee!-Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay.

Lear, A. I, S. 4.

oath,

1-Owes.] i, e. is poffefsed of.

STEEVENS. “ Owes," for owns. " Infirmities she owes," Infirmities which Me cannot but acknowledge. We do not say that a person is polcled of infirmities.

A. B. ? The untented woundings.] Untented wounds, means wounds in their worst ftate, not having a tent in them to digest them; and may possibly signify here such as will not admit of having a tent put into them for that purpose.

STEEVENS. “Untented wounds” may perhaps be understood; but “untented woundings" is, in my opinion, without a meaning. I think we may read unshented or unshended woundings. To fhend, in Chaucer and Spenser, is to blame. “ Unsented woundings of a father's curse, may therefore mean the unblamed or unblameable curses of a father, &c.-Curses, which considering your conduct, no one will censure me for,

A. B, CUSTOM.

CU S T O M.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war,
My thrice-driven bed of down.

Othello, A. 1, S. 3.
New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Henry VIII. A. 1. S. 3.

WHEN YOU

HEN do dance, I wish you

A wave o’the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, ftill so, And own no other function.

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

He, at Philippi, kept His sword even like a dancer, while I struck The lean and wrinkled Caffius; and 'twas I, That the mad Brutus ended. Ant. & Cleop. A. 3, S.g. Suppose the singing birds, musicians; The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence strow'd; The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more, Than a delightful measure or a dance.

Richard II. A. I, S. 3-
D A N G E R.

In thy danger;
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thý grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy bead's-man.

Two Gent. of Verona, A. 1, S. 1. 3

Omiffion

Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger ;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we fit idly in the sun.

Troilus and Crefrda. A. 3, S. 3:
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
Unfit for other life, compellid by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves

among

them.

Henry VIII. A. I, S. 2. It was your pre-surmise, your son might drop : You were advis'd his flesh was capable Of wounds, and scars, and that his forward spirit Would lift him where most trade of danger rang’d: Yet did you say,-Go forth.

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

The poor condemned English, Like facrifices, by their watchful fires Sit patiently, and inly ruminate The morning's danger; and their gesture sad, Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats, Presenteth them unto the gazing moon So many horrid ghosts. Henry V. A. 4, Chorus.

Danger knows full well, That Cæsar is more dangerous than he. We are two lions, litter'd in one day, And I the elder and more terrible.

7. Cæfar, A. 2, S. 2. We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful, To leave that latest, which concerns him first; Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gain, To wake, and wage, a danger profitless."

Othello, A. 1, S. 3. ' To wake, and wage, a danger pro fitlefs.] To wage here, as in onany other places of Shakespeare, fignifies to fight, to combat.

STEEYENS.

Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choak the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care, I bear unto my lord,
Made me collect these dangers in the duke.

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

D A R K N E S S.

If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, And hug it in my arms. Meas. for Meas. A. 3. S. 1.

D A Y.,
This day is call'd—the feast of Crifpian:
He that out-lives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And roufe him at the name of Crifpián.
He, that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say-to morrow is Saint Crispian.

Hen. V. A. 4, S. 3.

Look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.

Much ade about nothing, A. 5, S. 3. Like an unseasonable stormy day, Which makis the silver rivers drown their shores, As if the world were all diffolv'd to tears ! So high above his limits swells the rage Of Bolingbroke.

Richard II. A. 3, S. 2.

This line, I think, should be pointed thus :

" To wake, and wage a danger profitless." wage war” is to engage in war.

To “ wage danger" will therefore fignify to engage in an hazardous exploit. A. B.

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