And thus the dead lovers have become immortal

victors.

Shakespeare did not intend to represent more than a fragment of human life in the tragedy. He did not aim at a criticism of the whole of human character; he cared to show us his hero and his heroine only as lovers, and as exemplary in the perfection of their love; faithful even unto death; choosing, with a final election of the heart, love at all costs. Here is no view of the whole of life; we are shown merely what befell a young pair of lovers during four days long ago in Verona. But Shakespeare felt, and we all feel, that if such love as theirs can be taken up into a complete character, modified and controlled by the other noble qualities which go to form a large and generous nature, the world will be the better for such pure and sacred passion. Such, it appears to me, are the ethics of the play.

And the personages by whom the lovers are encircled are so conceived as to become the critics of ideal love from their several points of view, honouring and exalting it by the inadequacy of their criticism. To old Capulet, in his mood, it seems that the passions of the heart are to be determined by parental authority. To Lady Capulet marriage is an affair of worldly convenience. To the Nurse it is the satisfaction of a pleasurable instinct. Mercutio, a gallant friend, is too brilliant in his intellectuality to be capable of a passion in which the heart shows that it is superior to the brain; he mocks at love, not because he really scorns it, but because he is remote from it, and cherishes before all else his free-lance liberty. The Friar views human passion from

the quietudes of the cloister, or from amid the morning dew of the fields; but botany is not the science of human life. Even Romeo's earlier self, with his amorous melancholy, becomes the critic of his later self, when a true and final election has been made, and when love has become the risen sun of his day. As for Juliet, her words

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite,

may serve for an inscription beneath that statue of pure gold of which Shakespeare was the artist.

It may interest some readers to have before them the dialogue, in the eighteenth-century taste, of Romeo and Juliet in the tomb, as it reached our ancestors,— somewhat modish ancestors perhaps, and drew forth their tears, in the version of Garrick.

Rom. Soft-she breathes, and stirs !

Jul. Where am I? defend me powers!

Juliet wakes.

Rom. She speaks, she lives and we shall still be bless'd

My kind propitious stars o'er pay me now

For all my sorrows past-rise, rise, my Juliet,

And from this cave of death, this house of horror,

Quick let me snatch thee to thy Romeo's arms,
There breathe a vital spirit in thy lips,

And call thee back to life and love.
Jul. Bless me! how cold it is! who's there!
Rom. Thy husband,

'Tis thy Romeo, Juliet; rais'd from despair
To joys unutt'rable! quit, quit this place,
And let us fly together-

[Takes her hand.

[Brings her from the tomb. Jul. Why do you force me so- -I'll ne'er consent

My strength may fail me, but my will's unmov'd,—
I'll not wed Paris,-Romeo is my husband—
Rom. Her senses are unsettled-Heav'n restore 'em!

Romeo is thy husband; I am that Romeo,

Nor all the opposing pow'rs of earth or man,
Shall break our bonds, or tear thee from my heart.
Jul. I know that voice-Its magic sweetness wakes
My tranced soul-I now remember well
Each circumstance-Oh my lord, my husband—

[Going to embrace him.

Dost thou avoid me, Romeo? let me touch
Thy hand, and taste the cordial of thy lips—
You fright me-speak-Oh let me hear some voice
Besides my own in this drear vault of death,

Or I shall faint-support me

Rom. Oh I cannot,

I have no strength, but want thy feeble aid.
Cruel poison !

Jul. Poison! what means my lord; thy trembling voice!
Pale lips and swimming eyes! death's in thy face!

Rom. It is indeed-I struggle with him now

The transports that I felt to hear thee speak,
And see thy op'ning eyes, stopt for a moment
His impetuous course, and all my mind
Was happiness and thee; but now the poison
Rushes thro' my veins-I've not time to tell—
Fate brought me to this place—to take a last,
Last farewel of my love, and with thee die.
Jul. Die? was the Friar false !
Rom. I know not that-

I thought thee dead: distracted at the sight,
(Fatal speed) drank poison, kiss'd thy cold lips,
And found within thy arms a precious grave—
But in that moment-Oh—

Jul. And did I wake for this!

Rom. My powers are blasted,

'Twixt death and love I'm torn-I am distracted!
But death's strongest—and must I leave thee Juliet!
Oh cruel cursed fate! in sight of heav'n—

Jul. Thou rav'st-lean on my breast-
Rom. Fathers have flinty hearts, no tears can melt 'em.
Nature pleads in vain-Children must be wretched-
Jul. Oh my breaking heart-

Rom. She is my wife-our hearts are twin'd together-
Capulet forbear-Paris, loose your hold—

[Dies.

Pull not our heart-strings thus-they crack-they break

Oh Juliet Juliet !

Jul. Stay, stay for me, Romeo-

A moment stay; fate marries us in death,
And we are one-no pow'r shall part us.

[Faints on Romeo's body.

It is wonderful what a good situation and a great actor can do upon the stage, even with words such as these. Perhaps all of us who are capable of tears would have moistened kerchiefs in presence of the dying woes of Mr. Garrick, or Mr. Barry and Mrs. Cibber.

I have come upon some illustrations of the text, in my recent reading, too late for embodiment in my notes; a few of these may be here set down.

I. i. 79: Give me my long sword. Compare Sharpham, The Fleire: "the gentleman that wore the long Sword, now weares the short Hanger."

I. ii. 25: Earth-treading stars. Adopted by Sharpham, Cupid's Whirligig (opening scene): "the Court, where so many Earth-treading starres adornes the Skye of State."

I. v. 69: He bears him like a portly gentleman. So Middleton, Your Five Gallants, IV. viii.: "That one so fortunate amongst us five Shall bear himself more portly."

I. v. 122: the sport is at the best. Compare Chapman, The Gentleman Usher (Pearson's reprint, i. 260): "Our hunting sport is at the best."

II. i. 10: Ay me. This is the "sigh" of line 8, as "love" and "dove" are the rhyme. Compare Sharpham, The Fleire: "Pis. ay me! Nan. Faith my Lord you'l nere win a woman by sighing."

II. i. 38 et cetera. So used for an unbecoming omitted word by William Haughton in Englishmen for my Money.

II. iv. 109: Here's goodly gear! So Chapman, An humerous dayes mirth (Pearson's reprint, i. 76): “But here is goodly geare."

II. v. 42: body, etc. Compare Middleton (ed. Bullen), vol. i. 27, and iii. 98.

III. i. 8: operation of the second cup. So Sharpham, The Fleire: "the operation of the pot makes him not able to stand."

III. iii. 57: Hang up philosophy! Was this proverbial? Compare W. Haughton, Englishmen for my Money (near opening of play): "Hang up Philosophy, Ile none of it." III. v. 9: Night's candles are burnt out. So Haughton, Englishmen, etc.:

Night's Candles burne obscure, and the pale Moone
Favouring our drift, lyes buried in a Cloud.

IV. iv. II: mouse-hunt. Add, in support of Dyce's explanation, Haughton, Englishmen, etc. (spoken of an amorous old man): "Here's an old Ferret Pole-cat."

IV. v. 97: ah, put up, put up. So Chapman, The Gentleman Usher (Pearson's reprint, i. 355): "Unworthie Lord, put up," i.e. cease.

The references to other plays of Shakespeare than Romeo and Juliet are to act, scene, line, as found in the Globe Shakespeare.

I have had a great advantage in preparing this edition of Romeo and Juliet in having been preceded by Mr. Daniel, the most conscientious and scholarly of editors. I have to thank him for an unpublished note on I. iii. 33. Professor Littledale communicated to me some valuable suggestions. Dr. Furnivall called my attention