SCENE I.-Mantua. A Street.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth

sleep,

of

My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;
(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to
think,)

And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR.

News from Verona !-How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How doth my lady b Juliet? That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.

(4) eye. This word has been retained by some modern editors. But it is not difficult to see the growth of that philosophical spirit in Shakspere which suggested the substitution of the word "truth," which opens to the mind a deep volume of metaphysical inquiry.

(4), How fares my Juliet!

Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

Bal. I do beseech you, sir, have patience." Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

"Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus." But then all the remaining dialogue in the early play differs from the amended text of the author, and the changes show his accurate judgment. For example:

"Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?" that most important repetition, is omitted in the original play. Are we not to trust to this judgment? Recent editors have not followed the example of some of their predecessors in dealing with his corrections according to their own caprice.

Let's see for means:-0, mischief! thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-2

And hereabouts he dwells,-which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,3
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

Ap.

a

Enter APOTHECARY.

Who calls so loud?

Rom. Come hither, man.-I see that thou art

We are tempted once more to trespass upon our limited space by giving the speech descriptive of the apothecary, from the first edition. The studies in poetical art, which Shakspere's corrections of himself supply, are amongst the most instructive in the whole compass of literature:"Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.

Let's see for means. As I do remember
Here dwells a pothecary whom oft I noted
As I past by, whose needy shop is stufft
With beggarly accounts of empty boxes:
And in the same an alligator hangs,

Old ends of packthread, and cakes of roses,
Are thinly strewed to make up a show.
Him as I noted, thus with myself I thought:
An if a man should need a poison now
(Whose present sale is death in Mantua),
Here he might buy it. This thought of mine

Did but forerun my need: and hereabout he dwells.
Being holiday the beggar's shop is shut.

What, ho! apothecary! come forth I say."

And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
Contempt and beggary hang upon thy back,"
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pray thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's
souls,

Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell:

I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.—
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar JOHN.

John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter Friar LAURENCE.

Lau. This same should be the voice of friar
John.-

Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,"
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him,-the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it,-here it is again,-
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee;
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, The letter was not nice, but full of charge Of dear import; and the neglecting it May do much danger: Friar John, go hence; Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight Unto my cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Exit.

SCENE III-A Church-yard; in it, a Monument belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch.

Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand aloof;

a

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the church-yard tread
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves),
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires.

Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal-bed
I strew:

O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
Or wanting that, with tears distilled by moans;
The obsequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave and weep.b
[The Boy whistles.
The boy gives warning, something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies, and true-love's rite?
What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while.
[Retires.

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a torch,
mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron.

This passage is different in (4)—but an “Ew" tree is mentioned. In (C) we have young-trees-perhaps a typographical error; but it occurs again.

The six lines which Paris here speaks are those of the quarto of 1599, and of the folio. Pope manufactured a passage from both quarto editions, and Steevens and Malone restored that of the elder quarto. The first copy is thus :"Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy bridal bed: Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain The perfect model of eternity;

Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hands;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,
With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb."

Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light; Upon thy life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face :

But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring, that I must use
In dear employment: therefore hence, be

gone :

But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
And strew this hungry church-yard with thy
limbs :

The time and my intents are savage-wild;
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.--
Take thou that:

Live and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.

Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout; His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

[Retires.

Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,

Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,

[Breaking open the door of the monument. And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague, That murder'd my love's cousin ;-with which grief,

It is supposed the fair creature died,—

And here is come to do some villainous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—
[Advances.

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague.
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I

-.

Mercutio's kinsman, noble county Paris :-
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think,
He told me Paris should have married Juliet:
Said he not so ? or did I dream it so ?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so ?-O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,—
A grave? O, no; a lantern, slaughter'd youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d.
[Laying PARIS in the monument.
How oft when men are at the point of death,
Have they been merry! which their keepers
call

A lightning before death: O, how may I
Call this a lightning ?-O, my love! my wife!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy
breath,

Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty :
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.—
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in
twain,

To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!-Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again; here, here will I remain

With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here

Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your
last!

Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death !—
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!-[Drinks.] O, true apo-
thecary;

Thy drugs are quick.-Thus with a kiss I die.

folio. Malone has very rationally conjectured that they are interpolations of a compositor. The printer had, probably, some imperfectly erased notes of the poet on his copy. We give them as we find them:

"Come, lie thou in my arms,
Here's to thy health, where'er thou tumblest in.
O true apothecary;

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
Depart again."

The speech, as it stands in our text, occupies forty-seven lines. It extended only to twenty-three lines in the original

copy.

a Steevens, in his text, has wrested a line out of the first quarto:

"Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?"

Bul. As I did sleep under this yew-tree"

here,

I dreamt my master and another fought,

And that my master slew him.

Romeo!-[Advances.

Fri. Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre?— What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

[Enters the monument. Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too? And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance!— The lady stirs. [JULIET wakes and slirs. Jal. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am:- Where is my Romeo?

[Noise within. Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that nest

Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater Power than we can contradict

Hath thwarted our intents; come, come, away:
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too; come, I'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:

5

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet,-[Noise again.] I dare no longer stay. [Exit.

Jal. Go, get thee hence, for I will not

drop,

To help me after?-I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him.
Thy lips are warm!

1 Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy:- Which way?

Jul. Yea, noise?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger!

[Snatching ROMEO's dugger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rust, and let me die.

[Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies.

I Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the church-yard:

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach.
[Exeunt some.

Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;-
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-
Raise up the Montagues,-some others search;-
[Exeunt other Watchmen.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry.

Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR.
2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him
in the church-yard.

1 Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.

Enter another Watchman, with Friar LAURENCE.

3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs,

and weeps:

We took this mattock and this spade from nim, As he was coming from this church-yard side.

1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar

too.

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and others.

Cup. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?

La. Cap. The people in the streets cryRomeo,

Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your ears?

1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain;

And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.

Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.

1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;

With instruments upon them, fit to open
These dead men's tombs.

Cup. O, heaven!-O, wife! look how our daughter bleeds!

This dagger hath mista'en,-for, lo! his house

71