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SCENE II.-Verona. A Room in Julia's House.
Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.

Gul. I must, where is no remedy.

Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner : Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

[Giving a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this.

Ful. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'erslips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness;
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;

That tide will stay me longer than I should: [Exit JULIA.
Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;

For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.

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Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid a howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear; he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll shew you the manner of it: This shoe is my father;— no, this left shoef is my father;-no, no, this left shoe is my mother;-nay, that cannot be so neither :-yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole; This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; A vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog :-no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on:-now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood1 woman;-well, I kiss her;--why, there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down; now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word: but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

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Enter PANTHINO.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass; you'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied2 that ever man tied.

Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog.

Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood: and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth? Laun. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue?

Laun. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, Iand the service, and the tied! Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.

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Speed. Master, sir Thurio frowns on you.

Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then.

Speed. 'Twere good you knocked him.
Sil. Servant, you are sad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that
you are not?
Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.

Thu. What seem I, that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet."
Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
Thu. How?

Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

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Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company.

Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.

Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries that they live by your bare words.

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: here comes my father.

Enter DUKE.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.

Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:

What say you to a letter from your friends.

Of much good news?
Val.
My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman?
Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I know him, as myself;1 for from our infancy We have convers'd, and spent our hours together; And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time

Tu clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,
Yet hath sir Proteus, for that's his name,
Made use and fair advantage of his days;
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth
Come all the praises that I now bestow,)
He is complete in feature,2 and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an empress' love,
As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir; this gentleman is come to me,
With commendation from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time awhile:
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth; Silvia, I speak to you: and you, sir Thurio :For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it: I'll send him hither to you presently.

[Exit DUKE..

Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship,
Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.

Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them,
Upon some other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, sure I think she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind,

How could he see his way to seek out you?

Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at allVal. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink.

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Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !—Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour.

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.

Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
Val. Leave off discourse of disability:-
Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed;
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself.
Sil. That you are welcome?
Pro..

No; that you are worthless.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.3 Sil. I wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant.] Come, sir Thurio,

Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome:
I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;
When you have done, we look to hear from you.
Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.

[Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much com mended.

Val. And how do yours?

Pro.
I left them all in health.
Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love?
Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you;

I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now:

I have done penance for contemning love;
Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.
O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe to his correction,*

Nor to his service no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love;
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon.

Val. Call her divine.

Prs.
I will not flatter her.
Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises.
Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills;
And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
Yet let her be a principality,

Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.
Val.

Sweet, except not any;

Except thou wilt except against my love.
Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too:

"I fly her lust, but follow beauty's creature,

I loath her manners, love her body's feature."

3 This speech is given to Thurio in the folio. Theobald assigned it to a servant. Mr. White says Thurio is right, as in the poorly-appointed stage of Shakspere's time Thurio might act as a messenger.

4 There is no woe compared to his correction.

14

She shall be dignified with this high honour,—
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?
Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing
To her, whose worth makes other worthies1 nothing;
She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world; why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel,

As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?
Val.

Ay, and we are betroth'd; Nay, more, our marriage hour,

With all the cunning manner of our flight,
Determin'd of: how I must climb her window;
The ladder made of cords; and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on, for my happiness.
Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.

Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:

I must unto the road,2 to disembark

Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.

Val. Will you make haste?

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Is by a newer object quite forgotten.

Is it her mien3 or Valentinus' praise,

Her true perfection, or my false transgression,

That makes me reasonless, to reason thus?
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ;-
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;
And that I love him not, as I was wont:
O! but I love his lady too, too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

SCENE V.-The same. A Street.

Enter SPEED and LAUNCE.

[Exit VAL.

[Exit.

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welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place till some. certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the ale-house with you presently; where, for one shot of five-pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia?

Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? shall he marry her?

Laun. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.

Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them: Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not! Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say'st?

Laun. Ay, and what I do, too: look thee, I'll but lean, and my staff understands me.

Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.

Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one.

Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match?

Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no,

it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will.

Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise.

Speed. Than how ?

Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy master.. Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the ale-house; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.

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SCENE VI.-The same. A Room in the Palace.
Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;

To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;

To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn ;
And even that power, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear:
O sweet-suggesting love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will

Picture. Her person, which I have seen, has shewn me her "perfections only as a picture. Dr. Johnson receives the expression in a literal sense. 5 Dazzled is here used as a trisyllable.

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6 The Cambridge edition retains Padua of the original, as shewing that Shakspere had written the play before he had finally determined on the locality. For the same reason, Verona is retained in Act III. Sc. I. (note 6, p. 17). 7 Ale.

A rural festival, oftentimes connected with the holidays of the Church, as a Whitson-ale. Launce calls Speed a Jew because he will not go to the Ale (the Church feast) with a Christian.

To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.-
Fye, fye, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do ;

But there I leave to love, where. I should love.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose :

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself: for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend :

For love is still most precious in itself:

And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! Shews Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,

Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine:-
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber window;
Myself in counsel, his competitor:
Now presently I'll give her father notice.
Of their disguising, and pretended 1 flight;
Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine;

For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter:
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift!

[Exit.

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Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.
Ful. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as sir Proteus.

Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's food?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in,

By longing for that food so long a time.

Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire;
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.

Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered,

He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones,

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;

And so by many winding nooks he strays,

With willing sport, to the wild ocean.

Then let me go, and hinder not my course:

Pretended-intended.

2 Infinite-infinity. The same form of expression occurs in Chaucer :"although the life of it be stretched with infinite of time." The reading we give

I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,

A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent The loose encounters of lascivious men : Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds

As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots:

To be fantastic, may become a youth

Of greater time than I shall show to be.

Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches ? Jul. That fits as well as "tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta.

Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece,

madam.

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey?

I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd.

Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not.
Jul. Nay, that I will not.

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances of infinite 2 of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men.
Jul.. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth!
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;
His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart;
His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him!
Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong,
To bear a hard opinion of his truth:

Only deserve my love, by loving him ;
And presently go with me to my chamber,
To take a note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing journey.
All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence :
Come, answer not, but to it presently;
I am impatient of my tarriance.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Milan. An Ante-room in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS.

Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;\ We have some secrets to confer about.- [Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?

is that of the first folio. The common reading is that of the second folio:"Instances as infinite."

INDEXES

TO THE

PLAYS AND POEMS OF SHAKSPERE.

It has been found convenient to arrange the references under two heads.

The FIRST INDEX is for the most part GLOSSARIAL, but it also refers to explanations which are more diffuse in their character. The
words in Italic are those which may be explained briefly, and often by the addition of another word, approaching to a synonyme, which gives
the sense. The words in Roman, principally referring to objects, customs, and ancient and proverbial expressions, require a more lengthened
explanation, which will be found under the passages referred to, either in a foot-note (designated by n.) or an illustration (designated by i.).
The SECOND INDEX is of the DRAMATIS PersonÆE, showing the names of the Characters which occur in each Play, and the particular
Act and Scene in which each appears.

The references are not made to Volume and Page, but to PLAY, Act and Scene. The POEMS are referred to by their titles. All the
references are abridged as follows:-

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Abhor, technical use of the word. H. E. ii. 4, n.
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
Refuse you for my judge.

Abhorred-disgusted. H. v. I, n.

And now how abhorred my imagination is!

Abide (v.)-sojourn. W. T. iv. 2.

There's no virtue whipped out of the court:
they cherish it, to make it stay there; and yet it
will no more but abide.

Abraham Cupid. R. J. ii. 1, n.

Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.
Abridgment-pastime. M. N. D. v. 1, n.

Say, what abridgment have you for this even-
ing?

Abroad-not at hand, far off. Cy. iii. 4, n.
Your means abroad,

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INDEX I.

ADD

Aches-pronounced as a dissyllable. T. i. 2, i.
Fill all thy bones with aches.

Achievement. H. F. iii. 5, n. ·

He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
And, for achievement, offer us his ransom.
Achieves her goodness. A. W. i. 1, n.

She derives her honesty, and achieves her good-

ness.

Achilles and Hector. T. C. iii. 3, i.

I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace.
"Accidence of Armourie," passage from. H. v. 1, i.
Was he a gentleman ?

Acknown. O. iii. 3, n.

Be not acknown on 't.
Acquaint you with the perfect spy-inform yourselves
with a most careful inquiry. M. iii. 1, n.
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,

The moment on't.

Acquaintance-used in the singular as a noun of
multitude. O. ii. 1, n.

How does my old acquaintance of this isle ?
Acteon, story of. T. N. i. I, i.

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.

Actors, profits of. H. iii. 2, i.

A fellowship in a cry of players.
Acture-action. L. C. n.

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Love made them not; with acture they may be,
Where neither party is nor true nor kind.
Addition. L. ii. 2, n.

One whom I will beat into clamorous whining,
if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.
Address'd-prepared. A. L. v. 4, n.

Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day

AFF

Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
Address'd a mighty power.

Address'd-prepared. H. 4, S. P. iv. 4, n.

Our navy is address'd, our power collected.
Address'd-prepared. Luc. n.

At length address'd to answer his desire.
Address'd-ready. J. C. iii. 1, n.

He is address'd: press near, and second him.
Addrest-ready. M. N. D. v. I, n.

So please your grace, the prologue is addrest.
Adriatic. T. S. i. 2, i.

Were she as rough

As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
Advantage-used as a verb. H. F. iv. 1, n.
Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
Advertisements. M. A. i. 1, 2.
He set up his bills.

Advice-government, municipal or civil. Luc. n.
Advice is sporting while infection breeds.
Advisedly-attentively. Luc. n.

This picture she advisedly perus'd.
Afar off-in a remote degree. W. T. ii. 1, n.
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty,
But that he speaks.

Affect (v.)-incline towards; metaphorically, love.
L. L. L. i. 2, n.

I do affect the very ground.

Affect the letter-affect alliteration. L. L. L. iv. 2, n.
I will something affect the letter; for it argues
facility.

Affect a sorrow, than to have. A. W. i. 1, 77.

Lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow,
than to have.

Affection—affectation. L. L. L. v. 1, n.
Witty without affection.
VOL. II.
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