If you were men, as men you are, in show, Whom I do love, and will do to my death, Hel. Never did mockers wafte more idle breath. Dem. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart with her but, as gueft-wife, fojourn'd; Lyf. Helen, it is not fo. } Dem. Difparage not the faith, thou doft not know, Left, to thy peril, thou aby it dear Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. But you must join, ILL fouls, to mock me 100 ? Ill is often used for bad, wicked. Obfervations and Conjectures, &c. printed at Oxford, 1766. This is a very reafonable conjecture, though I think it is hardly right. JOHNSON. I Extort a poor foul's patience.] Harrafs, torment. JOHNSON. So Prior, My heart with her but as gueft-wife fojourn'd. No matter what beauties I faw in my away, bome. JOHNSON. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes: Lyf. Why should he stay, whom love doth press Her. What love could prefs Lyfander from my fide? Lyf. Lyfander's love, that would not let him 'bide, Fair Helena; who more engilds the night, Then all yon fiery O's and eyes of light. Why feek'st thouù me? could not this make thee know, Her. You fpeak not, as you think it cannot be. Is all the counsel that we two have fhar'd, All fchool-days friendship, childhood innocence? 2- all yon fiery O's.] I would willingly believe that the poetwrote fiery orbs. JOHNSON. Shakespeare ufes O for a circle. So in the prologue to Hen. V. ." can we crowd "Within this little O, the very cafques STEEVENS. 3 -in spite of me.]` I read, in spite to me. JOHNSON. 8 Have with our needles created both one flower; Two lovely berries molded on one ftem: Our fex, as well as I, may chide you for it; Her. I am amazed at your paffionate words: (Who even but now did fpurn me at his foot) Have with our needles, &c.] It was probably written by Shakespeare neelds (a common contraction in the inland counties at this day) otherwife the verfe will be inharmonious, See Gammer Gurton's Needle. STEEVENS. 9 Two of the first life, coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one creft:] The true correction of this paffage I owe to the friendship and communication of the ingenious Martin Folkes, efq.Two of the firft, fecond, &c. are terms peculiar in Heraldry, to distinguish the different quarterings of coats. THEOBALD. VOL. III. F What What though I be not fo in grace as you, You would not make me fuch an argument: Her. Sweet, do not fcorn her fo. Dem. If fhe cannot entreat, I can compel. Lyf. Thou canst compel no more than fhe entreat: Thy threats have no more ftrength, than her weak prayers. 3 Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do; I fwear, by that which I will lofe for thee, Ay, do, perfever-] Perfever is the reading of all the old copies. The word was formerly fo pronounced. Thus our author in 'All's Well that ends Well, act iv. fc. 2. STEEVENS. —-fuch an argument.† Sucli-a subject of light merriment. JOHNSON. So Ifabella, fpeaking to Lucio in Measure for Meafure, "Make me not, fir, your fiory." STEEVENS. 3 -than her weak prayers.] The old copies read, -than her weak praife. STEEVENS. Dem. Dem. Quick, come- Her. Lylander, whereto tends all this? Lyf. Away, you Ethiop! Dem. No, no; he'll Seem to break loofe, take on, as you would follow, Or I will fhake thee from me, like a ferpent. [is this? Hel. Yes, footh; and fo do you. Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. Dem. I would, I had your bond: for, I perceive, A weak bond holds you; I'll not truft your word. Lyf. What, fhould I hurt her, ftrike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her fo. Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love? Am not I Hermia? are not you Lyfander? I am as fair now, as I was ere- while. Since night, you lov'd me; yet, fince night you left me: Lyf. Ay, by my life; And never did defire to see thee more. Therefore be out of hope, of question, doubt; Her. O me! you jugler! oh, you canker-bloffom !4 You -you canker-bloom!] The canker-blaffem is not in this place the bloffom of the canker or wild rofe, which our author alludes to in Much Ado About Nothing, acti. fc. 6. "I had |