(And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death ?) he is banished. Fri. Fond mad-man, hear me speak.- Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word, Rom. Yet, banished ? hang up philosophy : Fri. O, then I see that mad-men bave no ears. no eyes? Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy eftate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel: thy hair, [Throwing himself on the ground. Fri. Arise, one knocks ; good Romeo, hide thyself. (Knock within. Rom. Not I, unless the breath of heart fick Groans, Fri. Hark, how they knock !-(who's there?) Romeo, arise. Knocks. your will? Nurse. [Within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand : I come from lady Juliet. Fri. Welcome then. Enter Nurse. made drunk. stand -Stand, an' you be a Man: Rom. Nurse! Rom. Speak 'ft thou of Juliet? how is it with her ? My conseal'd lady to our cancell'd love ? * My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?) An Antithesis or Op. position was here intended : But what Opposition is there between conceald and cancellod? Besides, she was not conceal'd tho' he was. We should read, ---My conceal'd. lady to our cancell'd love? And then the Opposition is evident, and the Sense exađ. Warb. Nurse. Nurse. O, she says nothing, Sir; but weeps and weeps ; Rom. As if that name, [Drawing his sword. * Unseemly Woman in a seeming Man! And ill beseeming Beast in seeming both !] This Arange Nonsense Mr. Pope threw out of his Edition for desperate. But it is easily restored as Shakespear wrote it into good pertinent Sense. Unseemly Woman in a seeming Man! An ill befeeming Beast in seeming groth! i. c. You have the ill befeeming Paffions of a Brute Beast in the wellseeming Shape of a Rational Creature. Warb. † Why railft thou on thy Birth, the Heav'n and Earth, Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three do meet, In thee at once, which thou at once wou!ds lofe ?) These were again thrown out by Mr. Pope, and for the same Reason : But they are easily set right, We should read, Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three so mect, In thee atone ; which then at once would lose. Warb, Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three so meet, In thee atone ; which Thou at once would'ft lose ? Fie! fie! thou sham't thy Shape, thy Love, thy Wit, Which, like an Ufurer, abound' t in all, And uselt none in that true use indeed, [Wit. Which should bedeck thy Shape, thy Love, thy Thy noble Shape is but a Form of Wax, Digressing from the Valour of a Man ; Thy dear Love sworn, but hollow Perjury, Killing that Love, which thou hast vow'd to cherish. Thy Wit, that Ornament to Shape and Love, Mil-shapen in the Conduct of them Both, Like Powder in a skill-less Soldier's Flask, Is set on Fire by thine own Ignorance, And thou dismember'd with thine own Defence. What, rouse thee, man, thy Juliet is alive, For whose dear sake thou waft but lately dead : There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt; there thou’rt happy too. The law, that threatned death, became thy friend, And turn'd it to exile ; there art thou happy; A pack of blessings light upon thy back, Happiness courts thee in her best array, But, like a misbehay'd and sullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love. Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, Ascend her chamber, hence and comfore her: But, look, thou stay not 'till the Watch be set; For then thou canst not pass to Mantua: Where thou shalt live, 'till we can find a time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back With twenty hundred thousand times more joy, Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. Go before, nurse; commend me to thy lady, And bid her halten all the house to bed, 1 Wbcika Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. [long, will come. Ron. Do fo, and bid my Sweet prepare to chide. Nurse. Here, Sir, a ring The bid me give you, Sir: Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this ! Fri. Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, And he shall signify from time to time Every good hap to you, that chances here: Give me thy hand, 'tis late, farewel, good-night. Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee. (Exeunt. SCENE VI. Changes to Capulet's House. That we have had no time to move our daughter : Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I.-Well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night. I promise you, but for your Company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo : Madam, good-night; commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her Mind early to morrow: To-night she's mcw'd up to her heaviness. Cap. * Sir Paris, I will make a separate tender * Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love :----) This was but an indifferent Compli. ment both to Sir Paris and his Daughter . As if there were small Hopes of her ever proving good for any Thing. We should read, Sir Paris, I will make a separate tender. Warb. OF Cap. T That we have had no time to move our |