Enter Prince, Montague, Capulet, their Wives, &c. La. Cap. Tybalt, my coufin! O my brother's child!Unhappy fight! alas, the blood is fpill'd Of my dear kinfman- -Prince, as thou art true, Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay: With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, Hold, friends! friends, part! and, fwifter than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rufhes; underneath whofe arm An envious thruft from Tybalt hit the life Of ftout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; La. Cap. He is a kinfman to the Montague. C 4 I beg I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, muft give; Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew Mercutio; La. Mont. Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend Prin. And for that offence, I have an intereft in your hearts' proceeding, Nor tears nor prayers fhall purchase out abuses; [Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in Capulet's Houfe. Enter Juliet alone. ALLOP apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Tow'rds bebus' manfion; fuch a waggoner, As Phaetor, would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. (21) Elfe, ruben he is found, that hour is bis laft.] It is wonderful that Mr. Pepe thould retort the want of ear upon any body, and pafs fuch an inharmonieus unícanning verfe in his own ear: a verfe, that cannot run off from the tongue with any cadence of mufick, the short and long fyllables ftand fo perverfely. We must read, Elfe, when he's found, that hour is bis laft. Every diligent and knowing reader of our Poet muft have obferv'd, that bour and fire are almoft perpetually diffyllables in the pronounciation and feanlion of his veríes. Spread Spread thy close curtain, love-performing Night, (22) By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, Come, night, come, Romeo! come, thou day in night! Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night! To an impatient child that hath new robes, (22) Spread thy clofe curtain, love-performing Night, That runaways eyes may wink;] What runaways are thefe, whofe eyes Julier is wishing to have flopt? Macbeth, we may remember, makes an invocation to Night, much in the same strain : -Come, feeling Night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, &c. So Juliet here would have night's darkness obfcure the great eye of the day, the Sun; whom confidering in a poetical light as Phoebus, drawn in his carr with fiery-footed steeds, and pofting thro' the Heav'ns, The very properly calls him, with regard to the fwiftnefs of his courfe, the Runaway. In the like manner our Poet speaks of the night, ia the Merchant of Venice. For the close Night doth play the runaway. Mr. Warburton. Enter Nurfe with cords. And the brings news; and ev'ry tongue, that speaks Jul. Ah me, what news? Nurfe. Ah welladay, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead !! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead. Nurfe. Romeo can, Though heav'n cannot O Romeo! Romeo! Who ever would have thought it, Romeo? Jul. What devil art thou, that doft torment me thus Nurfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes, [once !! break at: Jul. break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, (23) And that bare vowel, ay, shall poifon more Than the death darting eye of cockatrice.] I queftion much, whether the grammarians will take this new vowel on truft from Mr. Pope, without fufpecting it rather for a diphthong. In fhort, we must refore the spelling of the old books, or we lofe the Poet's conceit. At his time of day, the affirmative adverb Ay was generally written, I and by this means it both becomes a vowel, and anfwers in found to eye, upon which the conceit turns in the fecond line. Jul Jul. What ftorm is this, that blows so contrary? Nurfe. Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished, Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand fhed Tybalt's blood ? · Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-rav'ning lamb! (24) Nurfe. There's no truft, No faith, no honefty, in men ; all perjur'd ; (24) Ravenous dove, feather'd raven, Wolvifh ravening lamb.] This paffage Mr. Pope has thrown out of the text, partly, I prefume, because these two noble hemiftichs are, indeed, inharmonious: [but chiefly, because they are obfcure and unintelligible at the first view.] But is there no fuch thing as a crutch for a labouring, halting, verfe? I'll venture to restore to the Poet a line that was certainly his, that is in his own mode of thinking, and truly worthy of him. The first word, ravenous, I have no doubt, was blunderingly coin'd out of raven and ravening, which follow ; and if we only throw it out, we gain at once an harmonious verse, and a proper contraft of epithets and images. Dove feather'd raven! wolvifh rav'ning lamb! C 6 |