than you, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers: by my count, Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax. La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. This night you shall behold him at our feast: The fish lives in the sea; and 't is much pride, Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by men. La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye, Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. a So (A). The folio and (C) have hour, both in Juliet's and the Nurse's speeches. b The next seventeen lines are wanting in (A). e (B), married; which reading has been adopted by Steevens and Malone, in preference to several, in the folio and (C). C 2 Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.—A Street. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or Six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology? Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,14 Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance : a But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, 15 and be gone. Rom. Give me a torch,16-I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love: Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough A visor for a visor!-what care I But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; 17 Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, 18 the constable's own word: If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire stick'st I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, lights, lights, by day. Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits Mer. Rom. Well, what was yours? And so did I. That dreamers often lie. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things true. Mer. O, then, I see queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes Time out o' mind the fairies' coach makers. On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, a A suit. A court solicitation was called a suit;-a process, a suit at law. b It is desirable to exhibit the first draft of a performance so exquisitely finished as this celebrated description, in which every word is a study. And yet it is curious, that in the quarto of 1609, and in the folio (from which we print), and in both of which the corrections of the author are apparent, the whole speech is given as if it were prose. The original quarto of 1597 gives the passage as follows: "Ah then I see queen Mab hath been with you. O'er ladies' lips who dream on kisses strait, Mer. True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, With this night's revels; and expire the term [Exeunt. SCENE V.—A Hall in Capulet's House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. 1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! 2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 't is a foul thing. 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate :-good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.-Antony! and Potpan; 2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready. 1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [They retire behind. Enter CAPULET, &c., with the Guests, and the Maskers. Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! ladies, that have their toes Unplagued with corns, will have a bout with you : Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, Her beauty & hangs upon the cheek of night a Thus (4). (C) and folio, walk about. b This passage, to "More light, ye knaves," is wanting in (4). c Good cousin Capulet. The word cousin, in Shakspere, was applied to any collateral relation of whatever degree; thus we have in this play "Tybalt, my cousin, Oh my brother's child." Richard the Third calls his nephew York, cousin, while the boy calls Richard, uncle. In the same play York's grandmother calls him cousin, while he replies grandam. d Her beauty hangs. All the ancient editions which can b considered authorities-the four quartos and the first folioread It seems she hangs. The reading of her beauty is from As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague: Fetch me my rapier, boy:-What! dares the slave Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, 1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, He bears him like a portly gentleman; Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; the second folio. Why then, it may be asked, do we depart from our usual principle, and reject an undoubted ancient reading? Because the reading which we give has become familiar, has passed into common use wherever our language is spoken,-is quoted in books as frequently as any of the other passages of Shakspere which constantly present themselves as examples of his exquisite power of description. Here, it appears to us, is a higher law to be observed than that of adherence to the ancient copies. It is the same with the celebrated passage, "Or dedicate his beauty to the sun." All the ancient copies read the same. We believe this to be a misprint; but, even if that could not be alleged, we should feel ourselves justified in retaining the sun. Such instances, of course, present but very rare exceptions to a general rule. A), Like. b So (C) and folio. (A), happy. You will set cock-a-hoop!" you'll be the man! You are a saucy boy :-Is 't so indeed ? C You must contrary me !-marry, 't is timeWell said, my hearts!-You are a princox; go:Be quiet, or-More light, more light.-For shame! I'll make you quiet; What!-Cheerly, my hearts. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too ? Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Rom. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. [Kissing her. Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd! Jul. Rom. What is her mother? Marry, bachelor, Rom. Is she a Capulet? O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. Ben. Away, begone; the sport is at the best. Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. 1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;. We have a trifling foolish banquet towards." [Exeunt all but JULIET and NURSE. |