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Leak'd is our bark;

And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the furges threat: we must all part
Into this fea of air.

Timon of Athens, A. 4, S. 2.

Say to Athens,

Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached verge of the salt flood,
Which once a day with his emboffed froth
The turbulent furge fhall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-ftone be your oracle.

How fearful

Timon of Athens, A. 5, S. 2.

And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low!

The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Shew scarce fo grofs as beetles :

The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for fight: the murmuring furge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard fo high.

Lear, A. 4, S. 6.

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So dry he was for fway, with the king of Naples To give him annual tribute, do him homage. Tempest, A. 1, S. 2.

1 So dry he was for fway.] i. e. So thirsty. The expreffion, I am told, is not uncommon in the midland counties. STEEVENS. “Dry" is very inelegant. I fuppofe we should read dree, i. e. forrowing.

A. B.

T-A'L E.

T.

TALE.

BY

Y your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole courfe of love; what drugs, what

charms,

What conjuration, and what mighty magic, (For fuch proceeding I am charg'd withal)

I won his daughter with.

Othello, A. 1, S. 3.

Oh, but they say, the tongues of dying men
Inforce attention, like deep harmony:

Though Richard my life's counfel would not hear,
My death's fad tale may yet undeaf his ear.

Richard II. A. 2, S. 1.

In winter's tedious nights, fit by the fire
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
Of woful ages, long ago betid.

Richard II. A. 5, S. 1.

He hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, he will prove the weeping philofopher when he grows old, being fo full of unmannerly fadness in his youth. Merchant of Venice, A. 1, S. 2.

It is not fo; thou haft mis-fpoke, mis-heard;
Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again:
It cannot be; thou doft but fay, 'tis fo;
I truft, I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man.

King John, A. 3, S. 1.

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There's nothing in this world can make me joy
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

King John, A. 3, S. 4.

Aged ears play truant at his tales,

And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So fweet and voluble is his difcourfe.

Love's Labour Loft, A. 2, S. 1.

I thank him that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profess not talking; only this-
Let each man do his beft: and here draw I
A fword, whofe temper I intend to ftain
With the best blood that I can meet withal.

Henry IV. P. 1, A. 5, S. 2.

But that I am forbid

To tell the fecrets of my prifon-house,

I could a tale unfold, whofe lightest word
Would harrow up thy foul; freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like ftars, ftart from their spheres;
Thy knotty and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.

Hamlet, A. 1, S. 5.

The wifeft aunt, telling the faddeft tale, Sometime for three-foot ftool mistaketh me.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 2, S. 1.

The wifeft aunt.] Aunt is procurefs.

STEEVENS.

The author of the REMARKS fays, "this conjecture is much too wanton and injurious to the word aunt, which, in this place at least, certainly means no other than an innocent old woman.'

REED.

"Aunt"-this word fhould be written aunct-abbreviation of auncient. It means an old perfon, man or woman.

A. B.

TALKER.

TALKER.

Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear1

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

TE A R S.

If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop the falls would prove a crocodile :-
Out of my fight!
Othello, A. 4, S. 1.
What! canft thou not forbear me half an hour?
Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring
bells ring to thine ear,
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead;
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearfe,
Be drops of balm to fanctify thy head.

Henry IV. P. 2, A. 4, S. 4.
If you have tears, prepare to fhed them now.
You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Cæfar put it on;

'Twas on a fummer's evening, in his tent ; That day he overcame the Nervii.

Julius Cæfar, A. 3, S. 2. You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in; Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother. King John, A. 2, S. 2.

- Look, the good man weeps! He's honest, on mine honour. God's bleft mother! I fwear, he is true-hearted; and a foul

None better in my kingdom.-Get you gone,

I'll grow a talker for this gear.] Gear appears to me to have no meaning here. I would therefore read,

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MALONE.

"I'll grow a talker for this year." "Gear" fhould, in this place, be written gere, i, e. a jest. Anthonio fays, "a good jeft; I fhall become a talker," A. B.

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And do as I have bid you.
His language in his tears.

He has strangled

Henry VIII. A. 5, S. 1.

S. 4.

I am about to weep; but, thinking that
We are a queen (or long have dream'd fo), certain
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I'll turn to fparks of fire. Henry VIII. A. 2,
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.

Titus Andronicus, A. 3, S. 1.

Oh, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help!
One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bofom,
Should grieve thee more than ftreams of foreign gore;
Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country's ftained fpots!
Henry VI. P. 1, A.

3,

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S. 3.

Oh, train me not, fweet mermaid, with thy note,
To drown me in thy fifter's flood of tears;
Sing, fyren, for thyfelf, and I will dote :
Spread o'er the filver waves thy golden hairs,
And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lie.

Comedy of Errors, A. 3, S. 2.

Her fighs will make a battery in his breast;
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
The tyger will be mild, while fhe doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorfe,
To hear, and fee, her plaints, her brinish tears.
Henry VI. P. 3, A. S. I.
--I can fmile, and murder while I fmile;
And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart;
And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,

And frame my face to all occafions.

3,

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

You are more inhuman, more inexorable,--

O, ten times more,---than tygers of Hyrcania.

See,

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