do, but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within thefe Hamlet, A. 3, S. 2.

two hours.

This is moft brave;

That I, the fon of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven, and hell,
Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a curfing, like a very drab,

A fcullion!

Hamlet, A. 2, S. 2. My father, and my uncle, and myfelf, Did give him that fame royalty he wears: And,-when he was not fix and twenty strong, Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, A poor unminded out-law fneaking home,My father gave him welcome to the shore.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 4, S. 3.

My father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the fpirit of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer endure it.

I,

As you like it, A. 1, S. 1. Hercules himself muft yield to odds;

And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hew down and fell the hardest timber'd oak.

By many hands your father was fubdu'd.

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

Oh, tyger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! How couldft thou drain the life-blood of the child, To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,

And yet be seen to bear a woman's face?

Henry VI. P. 3, A. 1, S. 4.

An equivoque, I believe, is here intended.

Hamlet may mean either jig-maker or gig-maker. Gigge, in Chaucer, is an harlot, a ftrumpet.

6

A. B.

I hav

I have five hundred crowns,

The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father,
Which I did store to be my fofter-nurse,
When fervice should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that.

As you like it, A. 2, S. 3.

By heaven, I bid you be affur'd,
I'll be your father and your brother too!
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares,
Yet weep, that Harry's dead; and fo will I :
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears,
By number, into hours of happiness.

Henry IV. P. 2, A. 5, S. 2.

My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his fpirit fadly I furvive,
To mock the expectations of the world;
To fruftrate prophecies; and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my feeming. Henry IV. P. 2, A. 5, S. 2.

This' young gentlewoman had a father (O, that had! how fad a paffage 'tis!) whofe fkill was almost as great as his honefty; would for the king's fake he were living! I think it would be the death of the king's difeafe. All's well that ends well, A. 1, S. 1. FAVOUR,

This young gentlewoman had a father (O, that had! how fad a paffage 'tis!)] Lafeu was fpeaking of the king's defperate condi tion; which makes the Countefs recall to mind the deceased Gerard de Narbon, who, the thinks, would have cured him. But in ufing the word bad, which implied his death, the stops in the middle of her fentence, and makes a reflection on it, which, according to the prefent reading, is unintelligible. We must therefore believe Shakespeare wrote, (0 that bad! how fad a prefage 'tis) i. e. a prefage that the king muft now expect no cure, fince fo fkilful a perfon was forced to fubmit to a malignant diftemper. WARBURTON. This emendation is ingenious, perhaps preferable to the prefent reading, yet fince paffage may be fairly enough explained,

I I have

FAVOUR,

FAVOURITE.

Bid her steal into the pleached bower,

Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the fun,
Forbid the fun to enter;-like favourites,

Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it.

Much ado about nothing, A. 3, S. 1.

Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow',

Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with princely fa

vours.

Henry V. A. 2, S. 2.

FAULT, FAULT S.

Never came reformation in a flood,
With fuch a heady current, fcouring faults;
Nor never hydra-headed wilfulness

So foon did lofe his feat, and all at once,
As in this king.

Henry V. A. 1, S. 1.

His temper, therefore, must be well observ’d:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,

When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth :

I have left it in the text. Paffage is any thing that passes; so we now fay, a passage of an author, and we faid about a century ago, the palages of a reign. When the Countefs mentions Helena's lofs of a father, the recollects her own lofs of a husband, and ftops to obferve how heavily that word had paffes through her mind. JOHNSON.

Dr. Warburton's reasoning is falfe and inconclufive. The death of Gerard de Narbon could never be confidered as a prefage that the king must now expect no cure, unless, indeed, the phyfician had died of the fame malady as that which the king is faid to languish under. I think we should read,

"O that had! how fad a pass it is.'

pafs, for conclufion.

"

We now fay-Is it come to that pafs? i. e. Is that the clofe of all?

A. B.

That was his bed-fellow.] The familiar appellation of bed-fellow, which appears strange to us, was common to our ancient nobility. STEEVENS. place, be printed bedeNot one who lies in anciently to bid, to in

"Bed-fellow" fhould, I think, in this fellow, i. e. a bidden-fellow, an intimate. the fame bed with another. To bede, was wite.

I

Α. Β.

But

But being moody, give him line and scope;
Till that his paffions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working.

Henry IV. P. 2, A. 4, S. 4.

The noble Brutus

Hath told you, Cæfar was ambitious :
If it were fo, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæfar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men)
Come I to speak in Cæfar's funeral.

Julius Cæfar, A. 3, S. 2.

Every fault's condemn'd, ere it be done :

Mine were the very cypher of a function,
To find the faults, whofe fine ftands in record,

And let go by the actor. Meaf. for Meaf. A. 2, S. 2.
Prefs not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue;
His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to fee him
So little of his great felf. Henry VIII. A. 3, S. 2.
They fay, beft men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the moft, become much more the better,
For being a little bad. Measure for Measure, A. 5, S. I.
Our rafh faults

Make, trivial price of ferious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their

grave. All's well that ends well, A. 5, S. Like bright metal on a fullen ground,

My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall fhew more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Than that, which hath no foil to fet it off.

3.

Henry IV. P. 1, A, 1, S. 2. In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may fhove by justice; And oft 'tis feen, the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: But 'tis not fo above:

2.There

There is no fhuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'a,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. 3.

Breathe his faults fo quaintly,
That they may feem the taints of liberty :
The flash and out-break of a fiery mind;
A favageness in unreclaimed blood,

S.3.

Of general affault.

Hamlet, A. 2, S. 1.

Oh heaven! were man

But conftant, he were perfect; that one error

-Fills him with faults.

Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 5, S. 3.

He fifhes, drinks, and waftes

The lamps of night in revel: is not more man-like
Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy
More womanly than he: You fhall find there
A man who is the abftract of all faults

That all men follow. Antony and Cleopatra, A. 1, S. 4.
I muft not think, there are

Evils enough to darken all his goodness:

His faults, in him, feem as the spots of heaven,

More fiery by night's blackness.

Antony and Cleopatra, A. 1, S.

Poor wretch,

That, for thy mother's fault, are thus expos'd

To lofs, and what may follow!-Weep I cannot,

But heart bleeds. my

4.

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

Taunt my

faults

With fuch full licence, as both truth and malice Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, When our quick winds lie ftill; and our ills told us, Is as our earing.

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

FEAR.

I follow'd that I blush to look upon :
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white

Reprove