of the Tempest. I do not know a more wonderful instance of Shakspere's mastery in playing a distinctly rememberable variety on the same remembered air, than in the transporting love confessions of Romeo and Juliet, and Ferdinand and Miranda. There seems more passion in the one, and more dignity in the other; yet you feel that the sweet girlish lingering and busy movement of Juliet, and the calmer and more maidenly fondness of Miranda, might easily pass into each other."

4 SCENE II." O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!"

The falconer's voice was the voice which the hawk was constrained by long habit to obey. Gervase Markham, in his "Country Contentments," has picturesquely described the process of training hawks to this obedience, "by watching and keeping them from sleep, by a continual carrying them upon your fist, and by a most familiar stroking and playing with them, with the wing of a dead fowl, or such like, and by often gazing and looking them in the face, with a loving and gentle countenance." A hawk so "manned was brought to the lure "by easy degrees, and at last was taught to know the voice and lure so perfectly, that either upon the sound of the one, or sight of the other, she will presently come in, and be most obedient." There is a peculiar propriety in Juliet calling Romeo her tassel-gentle; for this species was amongst the most beautiful and elegant of hawks, and was especially appropriated to the use of a prince. Our poet always uses the images which have been derived from his own experience, with exquisite propriety. In the Merry Wives of Windsor, Falstaff's page is the eyasmusket, the smallest unfledged hawk. Othello fears that Desdemona is haggard-that is, the wild hawk

which "checks at every feather." The sport with a tassel-gentle is spiritedly described by Massinger:

46

Then, for an evening flight,

A tiercel gentle, which I call, my masters,
As he were sent a messenger to the moon,
In such a place flies, as he seems to say,

See me, or see me not! the partridge sprung,
He makes his stoop; but wanting breath, is forced
To cancelier; then, with such speed as if

He carried lightning in his wings, he strikes
The trembling bird, who even in death appears
Proud to be made his quarry."

5 SCENE III. "The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb."

Milton, in the second book of Paradise Lost, has the same idea :

"The womb of nature, and, perhaps, her grave." The editors of Milton have given a parallel passage in Lucretius:

"Omniparens, eadem rerum commune sepulchrum." We would ask, did Shakspere and Milton go to the same common source? Farmer has not solved this question in his "Essay on the Learning of Shakspere."

cidation of our old authors the knowledge of an antiquary and the feeling of a poet, has observed, that "in very old English the third person plural of the present tense endeth in eth as well as the singular, and often familiarly in es;" and it has been further explained by Mr. Tollet, that "the third person plural of the Anglo-Saxon present tense endeth in eth, and of the Dano-Saxon in es." Malone, we think, has rightly stated the principle upon which such idioms, which appear false concords to us, should be corrected,—that is, "to substitute the modern idiom in all places except where either the metre or rhyme renders it impossible." But to those who can feel the value of a slight sprinkling of our antique phraseology, it is pleasant to drop upon the instances in which correction is impossible. We would not part with the exquisite bit of false concord, as we must now term it, in the last word of the four following lines, for all that Shakspere's grammar-correctors have ever written :-

"Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs
On chalic'd flowers that lies."

7 SCENE IV.-" A duellist, a duellist."

George Wither, in his obsequieз upon the death of Prince Henry, thus introduces Britannia lamenting:

"Alas! who now shait grace my tournaments,
Or honour me with deeds of chivalrie?"

The tournaments and the chivalrie were then, however, but "an insubstantial pageant faded." Men had learnt to revenge their private wrongs, without the paraphernalia of heralds and warders. In the old chivalrous times they might suppress any outbreak of hatred or passion, and cherish their malice against each other until it could be legally gratified; so that, according to the phrase of Richard Cour-de-Lion in his ordinance for permitting tournaments, "the peace of our land be not broken, nor justice hindred, nor damage done to our forests." The private contests of two knights was a violation of the laws of chivalry. Chaucer has a remarkable exemplification of this in his Knight's Tale," where the duke, coming to the plain, saw Arcite and Palamon fighting like two bulls :

"This dake his courser with his spurrés smote,
And at a start he was betwixt them two,
And pulled out a sword and cried,-' Ho!
No more, up pain of losing of your head;
By mighty Mars, he shall anon be dead
That smiteth any stroke that I may seen!
But telleth me what mistere men ye been,
That be so hardy for to fighten here
Withouten any judge or other officer,
As though it were in listés really'" (royally).

That duels were frequent in England in the reign of Elizabeth, we might collect, if there were no other evidence, from Shakspere alone. The matter had been reduced to a science. Tybalt is the "courageous captain of compliments,' "-a perfect master of

punctilio, one who kills his adversary by rule"one, two, and the third in your bosom." The gentleman of the "first and second cause" is a gentleman who will quarrel upon the very slightest offences. The degrees in quarrelling were called the causes; and these have been most happily ridiculed by Shakspere in As You Like It :--

"Jaques. But for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?

Touchstone. Upon a lie seven times removed; as thus, sir, I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: this is called the Retort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word he cut it to please himself: this is called the Quip modest. If, again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: this is called the Reply churlish. If, again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: this is called the Reproof valiant. If, again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: this is called the Countercheck quarrelsome ; and so to the Lie circumstantial and the Lie direct."

When Touchstone adds, "O sir! we quarrel in print by the book," he alludes to the works of Saviolo and Caranza, who laid down laws for the duello. The wit of Shakspere is the best commentary upon the philosophy of Montaigne: "Inquire why that man hazards his life and honour upon the fortune of his rapier and dagger; let him acquaint you with the occasion of the quarrel, he cannot do it without blushing, 't is so idle and frivolous."―(Essays, book iii. ch. 10.) But philosophy and wit were equally unavailing to put down the quarrelsome spirit of the times, and Henry IV. of France in vain declared all duellists guilty of lese-majesté, and punishable with death; and James I. of England as vainly denounced them in the Star-chamber.

The practice of duelling went on with us till the civil wars came to merge private quarrels in public ones. Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," has a bitter satire against the nobility, when he says, they are "like our modern Frenchmen, that had rather lose a pound of blood in a single combat, than a drop of sweat in any honest labour."

10 SCENE IV. "Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?"

Coleridge invites us to compare, in this scene, "Romeo's half-excited, and half-real ease of mind, with his first manner when in love with Rosaline! His will had come to the clenching point." Romeo had not only recovered the natural tone of his mind, but he had come back to the conventional gaietythe fives-play of witty words-which was the tone "Now of the best society in Shakspere's time. art thou what thou art," says Mercutio, "by art as well as by nature."

11 SCENE IV.-" My fan, Peter."

The fan which Peter had to bear is exhibited in the woodcut at the end of this Act. It does not appear quite so ridiculous, therefore, when we look at the size of the machine, to believe the Nurse should have a servant to bear it. Shakspere has given the same office to Armado in Love's Labour's Lost:"Oh! a most dainty man,

To see him walk before a lady, and to bear her fan."

12 SCENE IV. "Is it good den?" According to Mercutio's answer, the time was noon when the evening salutation "good den" began. But Shakspere had here English manners in his eye. The Italian custom of commencing the day half an hour after sunset, and reckoning through the twenty-four hours, is inconsistent with such a division of time as this.

13 SOENE IV. "Saucy merchant."

Steevens pointed out that the term merchant was anciently used in contradistinction to gentleman; as we still use the word chap as an abbreviation of chapman. Douce has quoted a passage from Whetstone's "Mirour for Magestrates of Cyties" (1584),

in which he speaks of the usurious practices of the citizens of London, which is conclusive upon this point:-"The extremity of these men's dealings hath been and is so cruell as there is a natural malice generally impressed in the hearts of the gentlemen of England towards the citizens of London, insomuch as if they odiously name a man, they forthwith call him a trimme merchaunt. In like despight the citizen calleth every rascal a joly gen tleman."

14 SCENE IV.-"R is for the dog."

R was called the dog's letter. In his English Grammar, Ben Jonson says, "R is the dog's letter and hirreth in the sound." In our old writers we have a verb formed from the noise of a dog. Thus, in Nashe (1600),

"They arre and bark at night against the moon ;" and in Holland's translation of Plutarch's Morals, "a dog is, by nature, fell and quarrelsome, given to arre and war upon a very small occasion." Erasmus has a meaning for R being the dog's letter, which is not derived from the sound:-"R, litera quæ in Rixando prima est, canina vocatur."

15 SCENE V." Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love."

The "love" thus drawn was the queen of love; for "the wind-swift Cupid" had "wings." Shakspere had here the same idea which suggested his own beautiful description at the close of the Venus and Adonis :

"Thus weary of the world, away she hies,

And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid,
Their mistress mounted, through the empty skies
In her light chariot quickly is convey'd,

Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen
Means to immure herself, and not be seen."

SCENE I.-4 public Place.

Eater MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad. And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as

addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!

Enter TYBALT and others.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to

them.

Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us min.

strels! an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds,

consort!

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men: Either withdraw unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man.

Mer. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery:

Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense, may call him—man.
Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this-Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love
thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting :-Villain am 1 none;
Therefore, farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and
draw.

Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee;
But love thee better than thou canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
And so, good Capulet,-which name I tender
As dearly as mine own,-be satisfied.

[Draws.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! Alla stoccatab carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold Tybalt-good Mercutio"

[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.

Mer. I am hurt

A plague o' both your houses!-I am sped : Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben.

What, art thou hurt? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 't is enough.—

Where is my page ?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.

Rom. Courage man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but 't is enough, 't will serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.-A plague o' both your houses!— What, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!—Why, the devil, came you between us? I was hurt under

your arm.

Rom. I thought all for the best.

Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint.-A plague o' both your houses, They have made worm's meat of me: I have it, and soundly too:-Your houses.

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my cousin.-O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's

dead;

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth

depend;

This but begins the woe, others must end.

Re-enter TYBALT.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain!

Away to heaven, respective lenity,

a We have restored the metrical arrangement of the preceding five lines, from (C) and the folio.

b (A), kingman.

c So (4). (C) and folio, he gone.