Fri. Arife, one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyfelf. [Knock within. Rom. Not I, unless the breath of heart-fick Groans, Mift-like, infold me from the Search of Eyes. [Knock. Fri. Hark, how they knock !-(who's there?)Romeo, arife. Thou wilt be taken-(stay a while)—stand up : [Knocks. Run to my Study-(By and by)-God's will! What wilfulnefs is this?-I come, I come. [Knock. Who knocks fo hard; whence come you? what's your will? Nurfe. [Within.] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand : I come from Lady Juliet. Fri. Welcome then. Enter Nurfe. Nurse. O holy Friar, oh, tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady's Lord? where's Romeo? Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. Nurfe. O he is even in my mistress' case, Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Rom. Oh, Nurfe!- Nurfe. Ah Sir! ah Sir!--Death is the end of all. 7 So Hanmer. The other editions read, Rom. Rom. Speak'ft thou of Juliet ? how is it with her? Doth not the think me an old murderer, Now I have ftain'd the childhood of our joy With blood, remov'd but little from her own? Where is the? and how does fhe? and what fays My conceal'd lady to our cancell❜'d love? Nurse. O, the fays nothing, Sir; but weeps and weeps; And now falls on her bed, and then starts up ;- Rom. As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her, as that name's curfed hand Murder'd her kinfman.Tell me, Friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may fack The hateful manfion. Fri. Hold thy defperate hand. [Drawing his fword. Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art. 9 Unfeemly Woman in a feeming Man! 8-cancell'd love?] The folio reads conceal'd love. 9 Unseemly Woman, &c.] This ftrange nonfenfe Mr. Pope threw out of his edition for defperate. But it is eafily restored as ShakeSpear wrote it into good pertinent fenfe. Unfeemly Woman in a feeming AN ill-befeeming Beaft in fem- well-feeming fhape of a rational creature. For having in the firft line faid, he was a woman in the fhape of a man, he aggravates the thought in the fecond, and fays, he was even a brute in the fhape of a rational creature. Seeming is ufed in both places, for feemly. WARBURTON. The old reading is probable. Thou art a beaft of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a man. Haft Haft thou flain Tybalt? wilt thou flay thyself? By doing damned Hate upon thyfelf? 'Why rail'ft 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 wouldft lose? And useft none in that true use indeed, Thy dear Love fworn, but hollow Perjury, " And thou difmember'd with thine own Defense. 1 Why rail'ft thou, &c.] Thefe were again thrown out by Mr. Pope, and for the fame reafon: But they are easily fet right. We should read, Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three so meet, i. e. Why rail you at your Birth large patrimony. But by fuicide Then is there mirth in Heav'n The alteration makes no improvement. The meaning is the fame in the common reading better expressed. 2 And thou difmember'd with thine own defence.] And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons, For For whofe dear fake thou waft but lately dead: Nurfe. O Lord, I could have ftaid here all night long, To hear good counfel. Oh, what Learning is! Rom. Do fo, and bid my Sweet prepare to chide. Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late. Either begone before the watch be fet, Or by the break of day, disguis'd from hence. 3 Go hence. Good night, &c.] These three lines are omitted in all the modern editions. 4-here flands all your flate ;1 The whole of your fortune depends on this. Sojourn Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, Give me thy hand, 'Tis late. Farewell. Good night. Cap. SCENE VI. Changes to Capulet's House. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. HINGS have fallen out, Sir, fo unlucki THI ly, That we have had no time to move our daughter. I would have been a-bed an hour ago. Par. Thefe times of woe afford no time to wooe. Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her Mind early to morrow; To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. Cap.Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love. I think, fhe will be rul'd |