Know you not,

The fire, that mounts the liquor 'till it run o'er,
In feeming to augment it, waftes it?.

Henry VIII. A. 1, S. 1,

Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frofty Caucafus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feaft?
Or wallow naked in December fnow,
By thinking on fantastic fummer's heat?

Richard II. A. 1, S. 3.

FLATTERER.

A thousand flatterers fit within thy crown,
Whofe compass is no bigger than thy head;
And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
The wafte is no whit leffer than thy land.

Richard II. A. 2, S. 1,
He loves to hear,

That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
And bears with glaffes, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers,
But, when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
He fays, he does; being then most flattered.

Julius Cæfar, A. 2, S. r.

Here feel we but the icy fang,

And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay,-
This is no flattery.

As you like it, A. 2, S. 1.

The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late, When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd; Scandal'd the fuppliants for the people; call'd them Time-pleafers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.

Coriolanus, A. 3, S. 1. When drums and trumpets fhall

I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be

Made

grows

Made of all falfe-fac'd foothing! When steel
Soft as the parafite's filk, let him be made.
A coverture for the wars! Coriolanus, A. 1, S. 9.

Why this fpade? this place?

This flave-like habit? and thefe looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear filk, drink wine, lie foft;
Hug their difeas'd perfumes, and have forgot

That ever Timon was. Timon of Athens, A. 4, S. 3.
Hence! be gone!-

If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,

Thou hadft been a knave and flatterer.

Timon of Athens, A. 4, S. 3. Shame not these woods,

By putting on the cunning of a carper

Be thou a flatterer now, and feek to thrive
By that which has undone thee.

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

FLEE T.

---

Do but think,

You ftand upon the rivage, and behold
A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
For fo appears this fleet majestical,
Holding due courfe to Harfleur.

Henry V. A. 3, Chorus.

-the cunning of a carper.] For the philosophy of WARBURTON.

a cynic, of which fect Apemantus was. The cunning of a carper, is the infidious art of a critic. Shame not these woods, fays Apemantus, by 'coming here to find fault. There is no apparent reason why Apemantus (according to Dr. Warburton's explanation) fhould ridicule his own fect.

STEEVENS.

There is little reafon to imagine that Apemantus, by calling himself a carper, had any intention of ridiculing his fect. He is proud of his cynical manners; and had faid immediately before to Timon, "thou dost affect my manners." By cunning of a carper, he undoubtedly means, the fubtilty and feverity of a cyA. B.

nic.

K4

FLESH.

--Take thou the pound of flesh;

But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are by the laws of Venice, confifcate

Unto the state of Venice.

Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. 1.

You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats: I'll not answer that:
But, fay, it is my humour; is it anfwer'd?

Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. 1.

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood
The words expressly are a pound of flesh :

Then take thy bond. Merchant of Venice, A. 4, S. 1.

Here

Will I fet up my everlasting reft;

And shake the yoke of inaufpicious stars

From this world-wearied flefh.-Eyes look your last! Arms, take your laft embrace! and lips, O you The doors of breath, feal with a righteous kifs.

Romeo and Juliet, A. 5, S. 3.

Hate all, curfe all; fhew charity to none;
But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone
Ere thou relieve the beggar: give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men.

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

Lay her i' the earth;-

And from her fair and unpolluted flesh

May violets fpring!-I tell thee, churlish priest,
A miniftring angel fhall my fifter be,

When thou lieft howling.

Hamlet, A. 5,

S. I.

To die ;-to fleep ;

No more?—and, by a fleep, to fay we end
The heart-ach, and the thousand natural fhocks

That

That flesh is heir to,-'tis a confummation

Devoutly to be wish'd.

Hamlet, A. 3, S. I.

But we all are men,

I

In our own natures frail; and capable

Of our flesh, few are angels. Henry VIII. A. 5, S. 2.

FLO O D.

This man's brow, like to a title leaf,

Foretells the nature of a tragick volume:

So looks the strand, whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witnefs'd ufurpation.

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

FLOWER S.

The ruddock would,

With charitable bill (O bill, fore-fhaming
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument !) bring thee all this;

Yea, and furr'd mofs befides, when flowers are none,
To winter-ground thy corse.

With faireft flowers,

Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2.

Whilft fummer lafts, and I live here, Fidele,

I'll sweeten thy fad grave: thou shalt not lack

The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor
The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to flander,
Out-fweeten'd not thy breath. Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2.

I

But we all are men,

In our own natures frail; and capable

S.2.

Of our flesh, few are angels.] If this paffage means any thing, it may mean, few are perfect while they remain in their mortal capacity.

STEEVENS. May not Shakespeare have written frail and culpable? The change is eafy. I would read and point thus:

We all are men,

In our own natures frail and culpable:

Of our flesh few are angels.

A. B.

- O Pro

O Proferpina,

For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'ft fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.

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

The fairest flowers o' the season

Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers,
Which fome call, nature's bastards; of that kind
Our ruftick garden's barren.

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

Like the bee tolling from every flower

The virtuous sweets'. Henry IV. P. 2, A. 4, S. 4.

Be advis'd;

FOE, FOE S.

Heat not a furnace for your foe fo hot
That it do finge yourfelf: We may out-run,
By violent swiftnefs, that which we run at,
And lofe by over-running. Henry VIII. A. 1, S. 1.
Like a jolly troop of huntsmen come

Our lufty English, all with purpled hands,
Dy'd in the dying flaughter of their foes.

King John, A, 2, S. 2.

Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads?
Or fhall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?

66

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

like the bee tolling from every flower

The virtuous fweets.] The reading of the quarto is tol

ling. The folio reads calling. Tolling is taking toll. STEEVENS. Tolling" is not in this place taking toll, or tribute, but fimply taking away. The fenfe is the fame as culling.

A. B.

Henry,