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SHAKESPEARE'S
TRAGEDY OF
Romeo and Juliet

EDITED, WITH NOTES

EDITED, WITH NOTES

BY

BY

WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D.

WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D.

FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

FORMER HEADMASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL IN CAMBRIDGE, MA.

ILLUSTRATED

Illustrated

NEW YORK ⁂ CINCINNATI ⁂ CHICAGO
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

NEW YORK ⁂ CINCINNATI ⁂ CHICAGO
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY


Copyright, 1879 and 1898, by
HARPER & BROTHERS.

Copyright, 1879 and 1898, by
HARPER & BROTHERS.

Copyright, 1904 and 1907, by WILLIAM J. ROLFE.

Copyright, 1904 and 1907, by WILLIAM J. ROLFE.


ROMEO AND JULIET.

Romeo and Juliet.

W.P. 8

W.P. 8


PREFACE

This edition of Romeo and Juliet, first published in 1879, is now thoroughly revised on the same general plan as its predecessors in the new series.

This edition of Romeo and Juliet, first published in 1879, has now been completely updated following the same general approach as its earlier versions in the new series.

While I have omitted most of the notes on textual variations, I have retained a sufficient number to illustrate the curious and significant differences between the first and second quartos. Among the many new notes are some calling attention to portions of the early draft of the play—some of them very bad—which Shakespeare left unchanged when he revised it.

While I have left out most of the notes on text variations, I have kept enough to highlight the interesting and important differences between the first and second quartos. Among the many new notes are some that point out sections of the early draft of the play—some of which are quite poor—that Shakespeare chose not to change when he revised it.

The references to Dowden in the notes are to his recent and valuable edition of the play, which I did not see until this of mine was on the point of going to the printer. The quotation on page 288 of the Appendix is from his Shakspere: His Mind and Art, which, by the way, was reprinted in this country at my suggestion.

The references to Dowden in the notes are to his recent and valuable edition of the play, which I didn't see until my version was about to go to the printer. The quotation on page 288 of the Appendix is from his Shakspere: His Mind and Art, which, by the way, was reprinted in this country at my suggestion.


CONTENTS

Funeral of Juliet

Juliet's Funeral


Verona

Verona


INTRODUCTION TO ROMEO AND JULIET

The Play's History

The earliest edition of Romeo and Juliet, so far as we know, was a quarto printed in 1597, the title-page of which asserts that "it hath been often (with great applause) plaid publiquely." A second quarto appeared in 1599, declared to be "newly corrected, augmented, and amended."

The earliest edition of Romeo and Juliet, as far as we know, was a quarto printed in 1597, and the title page claims that "it has been performed publicly (to great acclaim) many times." A second quarto was published in 1599, stated to be "newly corrected, expanded, and improved."

Two other quartos appeared before the folio of 1623, one in 1609 and the other undated; and it is doubtful which was the earlier. The undated quarto is the first that bears the name of the author ("Written by W.[Pg 10] Shake-speare"), but this does not occur in some copies of the edition. A fifth quarto was published in 1637.

Two other quartos were released before the 1623 folio, one in 1609 and the other without a date; it's unclear which one came first. The undated quarto is the first to feature the author's name ("Written by W.[Pg 10] Shake-speare"), but this doesn't appear in some copies of that edition. A fifth quarto came out in 1637.

The first quarto is much shorter than the second, the former having only 2232 lines, including the prologue, while the latter has 3007 lines (Daniel). Some editors believe that the first quarto gives the author's first draft of the play, and the second the form it took after he had revised and enlarged it; but the majority of the best critics agree substantially in the opinion that the first quarto was a pirated edition, and represents in an abbreviated and imperfect form the play subsequently printed in full in the second. The former was "made up partly from copies of portions of the original play, partly from recollection and from notes taken during the performance;" the latter was from an authentic copy, and a careful comparison of the text with the earlier one shows that in the meantime the play "underwent revision, received some slight augmentation, and in some few places must have been entirely rewritten." A marked instance of this rewriting—the only one of considerable length—is in ii. 6. 6-37, where the first quarto reads thus (spelling and pointing being modernized):—

The first quarto is much shorter than the second, with the former containing only 2,232 lines, including the prologue, while the latter has 3,007 lines (Daniel). Some editors think that the first quarto represents the author's initial draft of the play, and the second reflects the version after he revised and expanded it. However, most leading critics generally agree that the first quarto was a pirated edition, presenting an abbreviated and incomplete version of the play later published in full in the second quarto. The first was "compiled partly from copies of sections of the original play, partly from memory, and from notes taken during the performance;" the latter was based on an authentic copy, and a careful comparison of the text with the earlier version reveals that in the meantime the play "underwent revision, received some minor additions, and was entirely rewritten in a few sections." A notable example of this rewriting—the only one of significant length—is in ii. 6. 6-37, where the first quarto reads as follows (spelling and punctuation modernized):—

Jul. Romeo.
Rom. My Juliet, welcome. As do waking eyes
Closed in Night's mists attend the frolick Day,
So Romeo hath expected Juliet,
And thou art come.
[Pg 11]
Jul.I am, if I am Day,
Come to my Sun: shine forth and make me fair.
Rom. All beauteous fairness dwelleth in thine eyes.
Jul. Romeo, from thine all brightness doth arise.
Fri. Come, wantons, come, the stealing hours do pass,
Defer embracements till some fitter time.
Part for a while, you shall not be alone
Till holy Church have joined ye both in one.
Rom. Lead, holy Father, all delay seems long.
Jul. Make haste, make haste, this lingering doth us wrong.

For convenient comparison I quote the later text here:—

For easy comparison, I'm quoting the later text here:—

Juliet. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Friar Laurence. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Juliet. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
Romeo. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Juliet. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
Friar Laurence. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one.

The "omission, mutilation, or botching" by which some German editors would explain all differences between the earlier and later texts will not suffice to account for such divergence as this. "The two dialogues do not differ merely in expressiveness and effect; they embody different conceptions of the characters;" and yet we cannot doubt that both were written by Shakespeare.

The "omission, mutilation, or botching" that some German editors use to explain all the differences between the earlier and later texts isn’t enough to account for such a divergence. "The two dialogues don’t just differ in expressiveness and impact; they reflect different ideas about the characters;" and yet we can’t doubt that both were written by Shakespeare.

But while the second quarto is "unquestionably our best authority" for the text of the play, it is certain that it "was not printed from the author's manuscript, but from a transcript, the writer of which was not only careless, but thought fit to take unwarrantable liberties with the text." The first quarto, with all its faults and imperfections, is often useful in the detection and correction of these errors and corruptions, and all the modern editors have made more or less use of its readings.

But while the second quarto is definitely our best source for the text of the play, it's clear that it "was not printed from the author's manuscript, but from a transcript, and the person who made the transcript was not only careless but also took unjustified liberties with the text." The first quarto, despite all its flaws and imperfections, is often helpful in finding and correcting these errors and corruptions, and all the modern editors have used its readings to some extent.

The third quarto (1609) was a reprint of the second, from which it "differs by a few corrections, and more frequently by additional errors." It is from this edition that the text of the first folio is taken, with some changes, accidental or intentional, "all generally for the worse," except in the punctuation, which is more correct, and the stage directions, which are more complete, than in the quarto.

The third quarto (1609) was a reprint of the second, which "differs by a few corrections, and more frequently by additional errors." This edition is the source for the text of the first folio, with some changes, whether accidental or intentional, "all generally for the worse," except for the punctuation, which is more accurate, and the stage directions, which are more complete than in the quarto.

The date of the first draft of the play has been much discussed, but cannot be said to have been settled. The majority of the editors believe that it was begun as early as 1561, but I think that most of them lay[Pg 13] too much stress on the Nurse's reference (i. 3. 22, 35) to the "earthquake," which occurred "eleven years" earlier, and which these critics suppose to have been the one felt in England in 1580.

The date of the first draft of the play has been widely debated, but it can't be considered finalized. Most editors think it started as early as 1561, but I believe that many of them put too much emphasis on the Nurse's mention (i. 3. 22, 35) of the "earthquake," which took place "eleven years" before, and which these critics assume was the one experienced in England in 1580.

Aside from this and other attempts to fix the date by external evidence of a doubtful character, the internal evidence confirms the opinion that the tragedy was an early work of the poet, and that it was subsequently "corrected, augmented, and amended." There is a good deal of rhyme, and much of it in the form of alternate rhyme. The alliteration, the frequent playing upon words, and the lyrical character of many passages also lead to the same conclusion.

Aside from this and other efforts to determine the date using questionable external evidence, the internal evidence supports the view that the tragedy was an early work of the poet, which was later "revised, expanded, and improved." There’s quite a bit of rhyme, much of it in an alternating pattern. The alliteration, the frequent wordplay, and the lyrical quality of many sections also point to the same conclusion.

The latest editors agree substantially with this view. Herford says: "The evidence points to 1594-1595 as the time at which the play was substantially composed, though it is tolerably certain that some parts of our present text were written as late as 1596-1598, and possibly that others are as early as 1591." Dowden sums up the matter thus: "On the whole, we might place Romeo and Juliet, on grounds of internal evidence, near The Rape of Lucrece; portions may be earlier in date; certain passages of the revised version are certainly later; but I think that 1595 may serve as an approximation to a central date, and cannot be far astray."

The latest editors mostly agree with this perspective. Herford states: "The evidence suggests that the play was largely written between 1594 and 1595, although it's fairly certain that some parts of our current text were completed as late as 1596-1598, and possibly that others were written as early as 1591." Dowden summarizes the issue like this: "Overall, we might place Romeo and Juliet, based on internal evidence, close to The Rape of Lucrece; some sections may be from an earlier date; certain parts of the revised version are definitely later; but I believe that 1595 could be a reasonable estimate for a central date, and is likely to be close."

For myself, while agreeing substantially with these authorities, I think that a careful comparison of what are evidently the earliest portions[Pg 14] of the text with similar work in Love's Labour's Lost (a play revised like this, but retaining traces of the original form), The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and other plays which the critics generally assign to 1591 or 1592, proves conclusively that parts of Romeo and Juliet must be of quite as early a date.

For me, while largely agreeing with these experts, I believe that a careful comparison of what are clearly the earliest sections[Pg 14] of the text with similar work in Love's Labour's Lost (a play that was revised like this but still shows signs of its original form), The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and other plays that critics typically date to 1591 or 1592, clearly shows that parts of Romeo and Juliet must be just as old.

The earliest reference to the play in the literature of the time is in a sonnet to Shakespeare by John Weever, written probably in 1595 or 1596, though not published until 1599. After referring to Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, Weever adds:—

The earliest mention of the play in the literature of the time appears in a sonnet to Shakespeare by John Weever, probably written in 1595 or 1596, though it wasn’t published until 1599. After mentioning Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, Weever adds:—

"Romeo, Richard, more whose names I know not,
Their sugred tongues and power attractive beuty
Say they are saints," etc.

No other allusion of earlier date than the publication of the first quarto has been discovered.

No other reference from before the publication of the first quarto has been found.

The Sources of the Plot

Girolamo della Corte, in his Storia di Verona, 1594, relates the story of the play as a true event occurring in 1303; but the earlier annalists of the city are silent on the subject. A tale very similar, the scene of which is laid in Siena, appears in a collection of novels by Masuccio di Salerno, printed at Naples in 1476; but Luigi da Porto, in his La Giulietta,[1] published about 1530, is the first to call the lovers Romeo and Juliet, and to make them the children of the rival Veronese[Pg 15] houses. The story was retold in French by Adrian Sevin, about 1542; and a poetical version of it was published at Venice in 1553. It is also found in Bandello's Novelle, 1554; and five years later Pierre Boisteau translated it, with some variations, into French in his Histoire de Deux Amans. The earliest English version of the romance appeared in 1562 in a poem by Arthur Brooke founded upon Boisteau's novel, and entitled Romeus and Juliet. A prose translation of Boisteau's novel was given in Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, in 1567. It was undoubtedly from these English sources, and chiefly from the poem by Brooke, that Shakespeare drew his material. It is to be noted, however, that Brooke speaks of having seen "the same argument lately set forth on stage"; and it is possible that this lost play may also have been known to Shakespeare, though we have no reason to suppose that he made any use of it. That he followed Brooke's poem rather than Paynter's prose version is evident from a careful comparison of the two with the play.

Girolamo della Corte, in his Storia di Verona, 1594, tells the story of the play as a real event that happened in 1303; however, earlier historians of the city don't mention it. A very similar story set in Siena appears in a collection of stories by Masuccio di Salerno, printed in Naples in 1476; but Luigi da Porto, in his La Giulietta,[1] published around 1530, is the first to name the lovers Romeo and Juliet and to make them the children of the rival Veronese[Pg 15] families. The story was retold in French by Adrian Sevin around 1542, and a poetic version was published in Venice in 1553. It also appears in Bandello's Novelle, 1554, and five years later Pierre Boisteau translated it, with some changes, into French in his Histoire de Deux Amans. The first English version of the story came out in 1562 in a poem by Arthur Brooke based on Boisteau's novel, titled Romeus and Juliet. A prose translation of Boisteau's novel was included in Paynter's Palace of Pleasure in 1567. It is likely that Shakespeare drew from these English sources, especially from Brooke's poem. However, it’s worth noting that Brooke mentions having seen "the same argument lately set forth on stage," so it's possible that this lost play may have also been known to Shakespeare, although we have no evidence that he used it. It is clear from a careful comparison of the two that he followed Brooke's poem rather than Paynter's prose version.

Grant White remarks: "The tragedy follows the poem with a faithfulness which might be called slavish, were it not that any variation from the course of the old story was entirely unnecessary for the sake of dramatic interest, and were there not shown in the progress of the action, in the modification of one character and in the disposal of another, all peculiar to the play, self-reliant dramatic intuition of[Pg 16] the highest order. For the rest, there is not a personage or a situation, hardly a speech, essential to Brooke's poem, which has not its counterpart—its exalted and glorified counterpart—in the tragedy.... In brief, Romeo and Juliet owes to Shakespeare only its dramatic form and its poetic decoration. But what an exception is the latter! It is to say that the earth owes to the sun only its verdure and its flowers, the air only its perfume and its balm, the heavens only their azure and their glow. Yet this must not lead us to forget that the original tale is one of the most truthful and touching among the few that have entranced the ear and stirred the heart of the world for ages, or that in Shakespeare's transfiguration of it his fancy and his youthful fire had a much larger share than his philosophy or his imagination.

Grant White says: "The tragedy closely follows the poem with a loyalty that could be called excessive, except that any deviation from the original story was totally unnecessary for dramatic interest, and the development of the action, the change in one character, and the treatment of another, all unique to the play, show a remarkable dramatic insight of[Pg 16] the highest level. Furthermore, there isn't a character or situation, hardly a line of dialogue, central to Brooke's poem that doesn’t have its equivalent—its elevated and glorified equivalent—in the tragedy.... In short, Romeo and Juliet only owes its dramatic structure and poetic flair to Shakespeare. But what an exception the latter is! It’s like saying the earth owes the sun only its greenery and flowers, the air only its fragrance and healing touch, and the heavens only their blue sky and brilliance. However, we must not forget that the original story is one of the most honest and moving among the few that have captivated audiences and touched the hearts of people for centuries, nor that in Shakespeare's transformation of it, his imagination and youthful passion played a much bigger role than his philosophy or creativity."

"The only variations from the story in the play are the three which have just been alluded to: the compression of the action, which in the story occupies four or five months, to within as many days, thus adding impetuosity to a passion which had only depth, and enhancing dramatic effect by quickening truth to vividness; the conversion of Mercutio from a mere courtier, 'bolde emong the bashfull maydes,' 'courteous of his speech and pleasant of devise,' into that splendid union of the knight and the fine gentleman, in portraying which Shakespeare, with prophetic eye piercing a century, shows us the fire of faded chivalry expiring in a flash of wit; and the bringing-in of Paris (forgotten in the story[Pg 17] after his bridal disappointment) to die at Juliet's bier by the hand of Romeo, thus gathering together all the threads of this love entanglement to be cut at once by Fate."

"The only differences between the story and the play are the three I just mentioned: the action is compressed from four or five months in the story to just a few days in the play, which adds urgency to a passion that was deep but not as intense, enhancing the dramatic effect by making the truth more vivid; Mercutio is transformed from just a courtier, 'bold among the bashful maidens,' 'courteous in his speech and pleasant in his ideas,' into a remarkable blend of knight and gentleman. In this portrayal, Shakespeare, with a foresight that looks a century ahead, shows us the dying spark of old chivalry igniting in a flash of wit; and Paris, who is overlooked in the story after his engagement falls through, is introduced to die at Juliet's side at the hands of Romeo, tying together all the strands of this love story, only to be severed by Fate."

General Comments on the Play

Coleridge, in his Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare, says: "The stage in Shakespeare's time was a naked room with a blanket for a curtain, but he made it a field for monarchs. That law of unity which has its foundations, not in the factitious necessity of custom, but in nature itself, the unity of feeling, is everywhere and at all times observed by Shakespeare in his plays. Read Romeo and Juliet: all is youth and spring—youth with its follies, its virtues, its precipitancies; spring with its odours, its flowers, and its transiency. It is one and the same feeling that commences, goes through, and ends the play. The old men, the Capulets and the Montagues, are not common old men; they have an eagerness, a heartiness, a vehemence, the effect of spring; with Romeo, his change of passion, his sudden marriage, and his rash death, are all the effects of youth; whilst in Juliet love has all that is tender and melancholy in the nightingale, all that is voluptuous in the rose, with whatever is sweet in the freshness of spring; but it ends with a long deep sigh like the last breeze of the Italian evening."

Coleridge, in his Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare, says: "The stage in Shakespeare's time was a bare room with a blanket for a curtain, yet he turned it into a realm for kings. The principle of unity, rooted not in the artificial demands of tradition but in nature itself, the unity of feeling, is consistently maintained by Shakespeare in his plays. Read Romeo and Juliet: everything is about youth and spring—youth with its foolishness, its strengths, its impulsiveness; spring with its scents, its flowers, and its fleeting nature. It’s the same feeling that begins, flows through, and concludes the play. The old men, the Capulets and the Montagues, aren't just ordinary old men; they possess an eagerness, a vitality, a passion, like the effects of spring; with Romeo, his shifting affections, his hasty marriage, and his reckless death are all symptoms of youth; while in Juliet, love embodies all that is tender and wistful like the nightingale, all that is sensual in the rose, along with whatever is delightful in the freshness of spring; but it concludes with a long, deep sigh like the last whisper of an Italian evening."

The play, like The Merchant of Venice, is thoroughly Italian in atmosphere and colour. The season, though Coleridge refers to it figuratively as spring, is really midsummer. The time is definitely fixed by the Nurse's talk about the age of Juliet. She asks Lady Capulet how long it is to Lammas-tide—that is, to August 1—and the reply is, "A fortnight and odd days"—sixteen or seventeen days we may suppose, making the time of the conversation not far from the middle of July. This is confirmed by allusions to the weather and other natural phenomena in the play. At the beginning of act iii, for instance, Benvolio says to his friends:—

The play, like The Merchant of Venice, has a distinctly Italian vibe and colorful setting. Although Coleridge describes it metaphorically as spring, the actual season is midsummer. The timeframe is clearly established by the Nurse’s conversation about Juliet's age. She asks Lady Capulet how far away Lammas-tide is—that is, August 1—and the answer is, "A fortnight and odd days"—which we can assume means sixteen or seventeen days, placing the conversation around the middle of July. This is further supported by references to the weather and other natural phenomena throughout the play. At the start of act iii, for example, Benvolio says to his friends:—

"I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire;
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl,
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring."

When the Nurse goes on the errand to Romeo (ii. 4), Peter carries her fan, and she finds occasion to use it. "The nights are only softer days, not made for sleep, but for lingering in moonlit gardens, where the fruit-tree tops are tipped with silver and the nightingale sings on the pomegranate bough." It is only in the coolness of the dawn that Friar Laurence goes forth to gather herbs; and it is

When the Nurse goes to see Romeo (ii. 4), Peter carries her fan, and she finds a chance to use it. "Nights are just softer versions of days, not meant for sleep, but for hanging out in moonlit gardens, where the tops of fruit trees are gleaming with silver and the nightingale sings on the pomegranate branches." Only in the coolness of dawn does Friar Laurence go out to collect herbs; and it is

"An hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,"

that we find Romeo wandering in the grove of sycamore, "with tears[Pg 19] augmenting the fresh morning's dew," because Rosaline will not return his love.

that we find Romeo wandering in the sycamore grove, "with tears[Pg 19] adding to the fresh morning's dew," because Rosaline won’t return his love.

In one instance, overlooked by the commentators generally, Shakespeare seems to forget the time of year. In the masquerade scene (i. 5) Old Capulet bids the servants "quench the fire" because "the room is grown too hot." In Brooke's poem, where the action covers four or five months, this scene is in the winter. Shakespeare, in condensing the time to less than a single week in summer, neglected to omit this reference to a colder season.

In one case, commonly missed by commentators, Shakespeare appears to forget the time of year. In the masquerade scene (i. 5), Old Capulet tells the servants to "put out the fire" because "the room has gotten too hot." In Brooke's poem, where the story spans four or five months, this scene takes place in winter. By condensing the timeline to less than a week in summer, Shakespeare overlooked this mention of a colder season.

Aside from this little slip, the time is the Italian summer from first to last. And, as a French critic remarks, "the very form of the language comes from the South." The tale originated in Italy; "it breathes the very spirit of her national records, her old family feuds, the amorous and bloody intrigues which fill her annals. No one can fail to recognize Italy in its lyric rhythm, its blindness of passion, its blossoming and abundant vitality, in its brilliant imagery, its bold composition." All the characters are distinctively Italian. "In total effect," as another has said, "the play is so Italian that one may read it with increasing surprise and delight in Verona itself."

Aside from this minor error, the entire story takes place during the Italian summer. As one French critic points out, "the very form of the language comes from the South." The story originated in Italy; "it captures the essence of her national history, her longstanding family feuds, and the romantic and violent intrigues that fill her records. It's impossible not to see Italy in its lyrical rhythm, its passionate intensity, its flourishing and vibrant energy, in its vivid imagery, and its daring structure." All the characters are distinctly Italian. "In total effect," as another critic noted, "the play is so Italian that one can read it with growing surprise and enjoyment in Verona itself."

Although, as I have said, it is doubtful whether the story has any historical basis, the Montagues and the Capulets were famous old families in Verona. Dante alludes to them in the Purgatorio (vi. 107), though not as enemies:—

Although, as I mentioned, it's questionable whether the story has any historical foundation, the Montagues and the Capulets were well-known, old families in Verona. Dante refers to them in the Purgatorio (vi. 107), but not as adversaries:—

"Vieni a veder Montecchi e Cappelletti,
Monaldi e Filippeschi, uom senza cura,
Color già tristi, e costor con sospetti."[2]

The palace of the Capulets is to this day pointed out in Verona. It is degraded to plebeian occupancy, and the only mark of its ancient dignity is the badge of the family, the cap carved in stone on the inner side of the entrance to the court, which is of ample size, surrounded by buildings that probably formed the main part of the mansion, but are now divided into many tenements. The garden has disappeared, having been covered with other buildings centuries ago.

The Capulet palace is still shown in Verona today. It's now occupied by regular people, and the only reminder of its former grandeur is the family emblem, the cap, carved in stone on the inside of the entrance to the courtyard, which is quite large and surrounded by buildings that likely used to be part of the main house but are now divided into multiple apartments. The garden has vanished, having been replaced by other structures centuries ago.

The so-called "tomb of Juliet" is in a less disagreeable locality, but is unquestionably a fraud, though it has been exhibited for a century or two, and has received many tributes from credulous and sentimental tourists. It is in the garden of an ancient convent, and consists of an open, dilapidated stone sarcophagus (perhaps only an old horse-trough), without inscription or any authentic history. It is kept in a kind of shed, the walls of which are hung with faded wreaths and other mementoes from visitors. One pays twenty-five centesimi (five cents) for the privilege of inspecting it. Byron went to see it in 1816, and writes (November 6) to his sister Augusta: "I brought away four small pieces of it for you and the babes (at least the female part of them), and[Pg 21] for Ada and her mother, if she will accept it from you. I thought the situation more appropriate to the history than if it had been less blighted. This struck me more than all the antiquities, more even than the amphitheatre." Maria Louisa, the French empress, got a piece of it, which she had made into hearts and other forms for bracelets and necklaces; and many other sentimental ladies followed the royal example before the mutilation of the relic was prohibited by its guardians.

The so-called "tomb of Juliet" is in a less unpleasant location, but it's definitely a fake, even though it has been displayed for a century or two and has received many tributes from gullible and sentimental tourists. It's located in the garden of an old convent and consists of an open, crumbling stone sarcophagus (which might just be an old horse trough), with no inscription or real history. It's kept in a kind of shed, with walls covered in faded wreaths and other keepsakes from visitors. You pay twenty-five centesimi (five cents) to see it. Byron visited it in 1816 and wrote (November 6) to his sister Augusta: "I brought away four small pieces of it for you and the kids (at least the girls), and[Pg 21] for Ada and her mother, if she will accept it from you. I thought the location more fitting for the history than if it had been less ruined. This impressed me more than all the ancient artifacts, even more than the amphitheater." Maria Louisa, the French empress, got a piece of it, which she turned into hearts and other shapes for bracelets and necklaces; and many other sentimental ladies followed her lead before the guardians banned further mutilation of the relic.

To return to the play—one would suppose that the keynote was struck with sufficient clearness in the prologue to indicate Shakespeare's purpose and the moral lesson that he meant to impress; but many of the critics have nevertheless failed to understand it. They have assumed that the misfortunes of the hero and heroine were mainly due to their own rashness or imprudence in yielding to the impulses of passion instead of obeying the dictates of reason. They think that the dramatist speaks through Friar Laurence when he warns them against haste in the marriage (ii. 6. 9 fol.):—

To go back to the play—one would think that the main idea was clearly established in the prologue to show Shakespeare's purpose and the moral message he wanted to convey; however, many critics still haven't grasped it. They assume that the misfortunes of the hero and heroine were mostly caused by their own recklessness or poor judgment in giving in to their passions instead of listening to reason. They believe that the playwright speaks through Friar Laurence when he cautions them against rushing into marriage (ii. 6. 9 fol.):—

"These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume; the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."

But the venerable celibate speaks for himself and in keeping with the character, not for Shakespeare.

But the respected celibate speaks for himself and stays true to his character, not for Shakespeare.

Neither does the poet, as some believe, intend to read a lesson against clandestine marriage and disregard for the authority or approval of parents in the match. The Friar, even at the first suggestion of the hurried and secret marriage, does not oppose or discourage it on any such grounds; nor, in the closing scene, does he blame either the lovers or himself on that account. Nowhere in the play is there the slightest suggestion of so-called "poetic justice" or retribution in the fate that overtakes the unhappy pair.

The poet doesn’t intend to give a lesson against secret marriages or ignoring parents' authority or approval. The Friar, even at the first mention of the rushed and secret marriage, doesn’t oppose or discourage it for those reasons; nor does he blame the lovers or himself at the end because of it. Nowhere in the play is there even the slightest hint of so-called "poetic justice" or punishment in the fate that befalls the unfortunate couple.

It is the parents, not the children, that have sinned, and the sin of the parents is visited upon their innocent offspring. This is the burden of the prologue; and it is most emphatically repeated at the close of the play.

It’s the parents, not the kids, who have sinned, and their wrongdoing affects their innocent children. This is the main point made in the prologue, and it’s strongly reiterated at the end of the play.

The feud of the two households and the civil strife that it has caused are the first things to which the attention of those who are to witness the play is called. Next they are told that the children of these two foes become lovers—not foolish, rash, imprudent lovers, not victims of disobedience to their parents, not in any way responsible for what they afterwards suffer—but "star-cross'd lovers." The fault is not in themselves, but in their stars—in their fate as the offspring of these hostile parents. But their unfortunate and piteous overthrow is the means by which the fatal feud of the two families is brought to an end. The "death-mark'd love" of the children—love as pure as it was passionate, love true from first to last to the divine[Pg 23] law of love—while by an evil destiny it brings death to themselves, involves also the death of the hate which was the primal cause of all the tragic consequences.

The feud between the two families and the chaos it has caused is the first thing that grabs the attention of those about to watch the play. Next, they learn that the children of these two enemies fall in love—not foolish, reckless, or impulsive lovers, not victims of disobedience to their parents, not responsible in any way for the suffering they endure later—but "star-cross'd lovers." The fault lies not within them, but in their stars—in their fate as the children of these warring families. Their tragic and heartbreaking downfall is the way the deadly feud between the families finally comes to an end. The "death-mark'd love" of the children—love as pure as it was passionate, love genuine from beginning to end in accordance with the divine[Pg 23] law of love—while it brings death upon themselves due to a cruel fate, also leads to the end of the hate that was the primary cause of all the tragic events.

This is no less distinctly expressed in the last speeches of the play. After hearing the Friar's story, the Prince says:—

This is clearly shown in the final speeches of the play. After listening to the Friar's story, the Prince says:—

"Where be these enemies?—Capulet!—Montague!
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen; all are punish'd.
Capulet. O brother Montague, give me thy hand;
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
Montague. But I can give thee more;
For I will raise her statue in pure gold,
That while Verona by that name is known
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.
Capulet. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!"

It is the parents who are punished. The scourge is laid upon their hate, and it was the love of their children by which Heaven found the means to wield that scourge. The Prince himself has a share in the penalty for tolerating the discords of the families. "We all," he says, "all are punished." But the good Friar's hope, expressed when he consented to perform the marriage,—

It’s the parents who face the consequences. Their hate brings the punishment, and it was through the love of their children that Heaven found a way to enforce it. The Prince himself shares in the blame for allowing the families’ conflicts to continue. “We all,” he says, “all are punished.” But the good Friar’s hope, expressed when he agreed to perform the marriage,—

"For this alliance may so happy prove
To turn your households' rancour to pure love,"—

is now fulfilled. Both Capulet and Montague, as they join hands in amity over the dead bodies of their children, acknowledge the debt they owe to the "star-cross'd" love of those "poor sacrifices of their enmity." They vie with each other in doing honour to the guiltless victims of their "pernicious rage." Montague will raise the golden statue to Juliet, and Capulet promises as rich a monument to Romeo.

is now fulfilled. Both Capulet and Montague, as they join hands in friendship over the lifeless bodies of their children, recognize the debt they owe to the "star-cross'd" love of those "poor sacrifices of their hatred." They compete with one another in honoring the innocent victims of their "destructive anger." Montague will erect a golden statue of Juliet, and Capulet promises to create an equally grand monument for Romeo.

Da Porto and Paynter and Brooke, in like manner, refer to the reconciliation of the rival families as the fortunate result of the tragic history. Da Porto says: "Their fathers, weeping over the bodies of their children and overcome by mutual pity, embraced each other; so that the long enmity between them and their houses, which neither the prayers of their friends, nor the menaces of the Prince, nor even time itself had been able to extinguish, was ended by the piteous death of the two lovers." As Paynter puts it, "The Montesches and Capellets poured forth such abundance of tears, as with the same they did evacuate their ancient grudge and choler, whereby they were then reconciled: and they which could not be brought to atonement[3] by any wisdom or human counsel were in the end vanquished and made friends by pity." So[Pg 25] Brooke, in his lumbering verse:—

Da Porto, Paynter, and Brooke similarly talk about how the rival families came together as a positive outcome of the tragic story. Da Porto states: "Their fathers, crying over their children's bodies and filled with mutual sorrow, embraced one another; thus ending the long-standing feud between them and their families, a feud that had resisted the prayers of friends, the threats of the Prince, and even the passage of time, was resolved by the heartbreaking death of the two lovers." Paynter expresses it this way, "The Montesches and Capellets shed so many tears that they washed away their old grudges and anger, leading to their reconciliation; those who couldn’t be brought to peace[3] by any wisdom or human advice were ultimately conquered and became friends through their compassion." So[Pg 25] Brooke, in his clumsy verse:—

"The straungenes of the chaunce, when tryed was the truth,
The Montagewes and Capelets hath moved so to ruth,
That with their emptyed teares, theyr choler and theyr rage
Was emptied quite; and they whose wrath no wisdom could asswage,
Nor threatning of the prince, ne mynd of murthers donne
At length (so mighty Jove it would) by pitye they are wonne."

And then the poem, like the play, ends with a reference to the monumental honour done to the lovers:

And then the poem, like the play, ends with a reference to the great honor given to the lovers:

"And lest that length of time might from our myndes remove
The memory of so perfect, sound, and so approved love,
The bodies dead, removed from vaulte where they did dye,
In stately tombe, on pillers great of marble, rayse they hye.
On every syde above were set, and eke beneath,
Great store of cunning Epitaphes, in honor of theyr death.
And even at this day the tombe is to be seene;
So that among the monumentes that in Verona been,
There is no monument more worthy of the sight,
Then is the tombe of Juliet and Romeus her knight."

ROMEO AND JULIET


DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

Escalus, prince of Verona.
Paris, a young nobleman, kinsman to the prince.
Montague, }
Capulet,     } heads of two houses at variance with each other.
An old man of the Capulet family.
Romeo, son to Montague.
Mercutio, kinsman to the prince, and friend to Romeo.
Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.
Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.
Friar Laurence, }
Friar John,          } Franciscans.
Balthasar, servant to Romeo.
Sampson, }
Gregory, } servants to Capulet.
Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse.
Abram, servant to Montague.
An Apothecary.
Three Musicians.
Page to Paris; another Page; an Officer.

Lady Montague, wife to Montague.
Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.
Juliet, daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.

Escalus, prince of Verona.
Paris, a young nobleman, relative of the prince.
Montague, }
Capulet, } leaders of two feuding families.
An old man from the Capulet family.
Romeo, son of Montague.
Mercutio, relative of the prince, and friend of Romeo.
Ben, nephew of Montague, and friend of Romeo.
Tybalt, nephew of Lady Capulet.
Father Laurence, }
Friar John, } Franciscans.
Balthazar, servant to Romeo.
Sampson, }
Greg, } servants to Capulet.
Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse.
Abram, servant to Montague.
An Apothecary.
Three Musicians.
Page to Paris; another Page; an Officer.

Lady Montague, wife of Montague.
Lady Capulet, wife of Capulet.
Juliette, daughter of Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.

Citizens of Verona; Kinsfolk of both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.

Citizens of Verona; Relatives of both families; Party-goers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.

Scene: Verona; Mantua.

Scene: Verona; Mantua.

The "Measure"

The "Measure"


PROLOGUE

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life,
Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
[Pg 30]
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage,
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

ACT I


Scene 1.

Verona. A Public Place.

Verona. A Public Space.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet,
with swords and bucklers

Enter Sampson and Greg, from the Capulet family,
with swords and shields

Sampson. Gregory, on my word, we'll not carry coals.

Sampson. Gregory, I swear, we won't __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Gregory. No, for then we should be colliers.

Gregory. No, because then we would be colliers.

Sampson. I mean, an we be in choler we'll draw.

Sampson. I mean, if we're in choler we'll pull out our weapons.

Gregory. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out
o' the collar.

Gregory. Yeah, as long as you're alive, get out from under the pressure.

Sampson. I strike quickly, being moved.

Sampson. I act fast, feeling inspired.

Gregory. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Gregory. But you're not quick to act.

Sampson. A dog of the house of Montague moves
me. 10

Sampson. A Montague family servant gets me going. 10

Gregory. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is
to stand; therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st
away.

Gregory. To move is to stir, and to be brave is
to stand; therefore, if you are moved, you run
away.

Sampson. A dog of that house shall move me to
stand; I will take the wall of any man or maid of
Montague's.

Sampson. A dog from that house will get me to
stand; I will take the wall any man or woman from
Montague's.

Gregory. That shows thee a weak slave; for the
weakest goes to the wall.

Gregory. That shows you’re a weak slave; for the
weakest goes to the wall.

Sampson. True; and therefore women, being the
weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore 20
I will push Montague's men from the wall, and
thrust his maids to the wall.

Sampson. That's right; and since women are the
weaker ones, they're always pushed aside. So, 20
I will push Montague's men away from the wall and
shove his women against the wall.

Gregory. The quarrel is between our masters and
us their men.

Gregory. The argument is between our bosses and
us their workers.

Sampson. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant;
when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel
with the maids and cut off their heads.

Sampson. It's all the same, I'll prove I'm a tyrant;
after I fight the men, I'll be ruthless
with the women and cut off their heads.

Gregory. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the
house of the Montagues.

Gregory. Draw your weapon; here comes two of the
house of the Montagues.

Sampson. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I 30
will back thee.

Sampson. I'm ready for a fight; I'll support you in this dispute.

Gregory. How? turn thy back and run?

Gregory. How? Just turn your back and run?

Sampson. Fear me not.

Sampson. Do not fear me.

Gregory. No, marry; I fear thee!

Gregory. No, marry; I'm scared of you!

Sampson. Let us take the law of our sides; let
them begin.

Sampson. Let's take the law into our own hands; let
them make the first move.

Gregory. I will frown as I pass by, and let them
take it as they list.

Gregory. I will scowl as I walk by, and let them
interpret it however they want.

Sampson. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb
at them,
which is a disgrace to them if they bear it. 40

Sampson. No, they can challenge it. I will bite my thumb
at them,
which brings shame on them if they accept it. 40

Enter Abram and Balthasar

Enter Abram and Balthasar

Abram. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Abram. Are you flipping us off, sir?

Sampson. I do bite my thumb, sir.

Sampson. I do bite my thumb, sir.

Abram. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Abram. Are you flipping us off, sir?

Sampson. [Aside to Gregory] Is the law of our
side,
if I say ay?

Sampson. [To Gregory] Is it legal of our
side,
if I say yes?

Gregory. No.

Gregory. No way.

Sampson. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you,
sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.

Sampson. No, sir, I’m not giving you the finger,
sir, but I am biting my thumb, sir.

Gregory. Do you quarrel, sir?

Gregory. Do you argue, sir?

Abram. Quarrel, sir! no, sir. 50

Abram. Argument, sir! No, sir.

Sampson. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as
good a man as you.

Sampson. If you do, sir, I'm ready for you; I serve as
well as any man you do.

Abram. No better.

Abram. Not any better.

Sampson. Well, sir.

Sampson. Alright, sir.

Gregory. [Aside to Sampson] Say 'better'; here
comes one
of my master's kinsmen.

Gregory. [To Sampson] Say 'better'; here
comes one
of my master's relatives.

Sampson. Yes, better, sir.

Sampson. Yes, much better, sir.

Abram. You lie.

Abram. You're lying.

Sampson. Draw, if you be men.—Gregory, remember
thy swashing blow. [They fight. 60

Sampson. Draw your swords, if you’re men.—Gregory, remember
thy swashing blow. They’re fighting. 60

Enter Benvolio
Benvolio. Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do. Beats their swords down.
Enter Tybalt
Tybalt. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Benvolio. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tybalt. What, drawn and talk of peace! I hate the word,[Pg 33]
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee;
Have at thee, coward! They are fighting.
Enter several of both houses who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs
70
First Citizen. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
Capulet. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
Lady Capulet. A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
Capulet. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter Montague and Lady Montague
Montague. Thou villain Capulet!—Hold me not, let me go.
Lady Montague. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
Enter Prince, with his train
Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—
80
Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
[Pg 34]
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.—
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient citizens
90
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate.
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.—
For this time, all the rest depart away.—
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;—
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Freetown, our common judgment-place.—
100
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.
Montague. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Benvolio. Here were the servants of your adversary
And yours close fighting ere I did approach.
I drew to part them; in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt with his sword prepar'd,
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head and cut the winds,
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn.
110
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,[Pg 35]
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Lady Montague. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Benvolio. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city's side,
120
So early walking did I see your son.
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
And stole into the covert of the wood;
I, measuring his affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Pursued my humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Montague. Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
130
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night.[Pg 36]
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
139
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Benvolio. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Montague. I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Benvolio. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Montague. Both by myself and many other friends;
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself—I will not say how true—
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air
150
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.
Enter Romeo
Benvolio. See, where he comes! So please you, step aside;
I'll know his grievance or be much denied.
Montague. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
To hear true shrift.—Come, madam, let's away.
[Exeunt Montague and Lady.
Benvolio. Good morrow, cousin.
Benvolio. But new struck nine.
Romeo. Oh, how time drags on during these sad hours.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
160
Benvolio. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?[Pg 37]
Romeo. Not having that which, having, makes them short.
Benvolio. In love?
Romeo. Out—
Benvolio. Of love?
Romeo. Out of her favour where I am in love.
Benvolio. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Romeo. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine?—O me! What fray was here?
171
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first created!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
180
Benvolio. No, because I'd rather weep.
Romeo. Good heart, at what?
Benvolio. At your good heart's oppression.
Romeo. Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
With more of thine; this love that thou hast shown[Pg 38]
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.
190
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
Benvolio. Sure! I’ll go with you;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Romeo. Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here;
This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
Benvolio. Tell me in sadness who is that you love.
Romeo. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Benvolio. Ugh! No way,
But sadly tell me who.
Romeo. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will;
200
Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Benvolio. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.
Romeo. A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.
Benvolio. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
Romeo. Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit,
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
210
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
[Pg 39]
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.
O, she is rich in beauty! only poor
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
Benvolio. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
For beauty starv'd with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair;
220
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
Benvolio. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Romeo. O, teach me how I should forget to think.
Benvolio. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
Romeo. That's the way
To call hers, exquisite, in question more.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair.
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
230
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget.
Benvolio. I'll pay that doctrine or else die in debt. Exit.

Scene 2.

A Street

A Street

Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant

Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant

Capulet. But Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Paris. Of honourable reckoning are you both,
And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
Capulet. But saying o'er what I have said before.
My child is yet a stranger in the world;
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years.
10
Let two more summers wither in their pride
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
Paris. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
Capulet. And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth.
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
20
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
[Pg 41]
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
30
Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be;
Which on more view of many, mine being one
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me.—[To Servant, handing over a paper] Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exit Capulet and Paris.

Servant. Find them out whose names are written
here! It is written that the shoemaker should meddle
with his yard and the tailor with his last, the 40
fisher with his pencil and the painter with his nets;
but I am sent to find those persons whose names are
here writ, and can never find what names the writing
person hath here writ. I must to the learned.—In
good time.

Servant. Find out the people whose names are written
here! It says that the shoemaker should focus
on his tools and the tailor on his materials, the 40
fisher with his fishing gear and the painter with his brushes;
but I am sent to find the people whose names are
written here, and I can never figure out what names the writer
has put down. I must go to the knowledgeable.—In
good time.

Enter Benvolio and Romeo

Enter Benvolio and Romeo

Benvolio. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
[Pg 42] 50
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
Romeo. Your plantain-leaf is excellent for that.
Benvolio. For what, I pray thee?
Romeo. For your shattered tibia.
Benvolio. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Romeo. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented and—Good-den, good fellow.

Servant. God gi' good-den.—I pray, sir, can you
read?

Servant. God give you a good afternoon.—I ask you, sir, can you
read?

Romeo. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. 60

Romeo. Yes, my own luck in my suffering. 60

Servant. Perhaps you have learned it without book;
but, I pray, can you read any thing you see?

Servant. Maybe you've picked it up without a textbook;
but, please, can you read anything you come across?

Romeo. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Romeo. Yeah, if I understand the letters and the language.

Servant. Ye say honestly; rest you merry!

Servant. You say honestly; rest you merry!

Romeo. Stay, fellow; I can read.

Romeo. Wait, buddy; I can read.

[Reads] 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the
lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and his
lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair 70
niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his
cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena?'
A fair assembly; whither should they come?

[Reads] 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselme and his beautiful sisters; the
widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and his
charming nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
my uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my lovely 70
niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his
cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena?'
A nice gathering; where should they go?

Servant. Up.

Employee. Up.

Romeo. Whither?

Romeo. Where are you going?

Servant. To supper; to our house.

Servant. To dinner; to our place.

Romeo. Whose house?

Romeo. Whose place?

Servant. My master's.

Servant. My boss's.

Romeo. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.

Romeo. Yeah, I should have asked you that earlier.

Servant. Now I'll tell you without asking. My 80
master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not
of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush
a cup of wine. Rest you merry! [Exit.

Servant. Now I'll tell you without being asked. My 80
master is the wealthy Capulet; and if you're not
part of the Montague family, I invite you to crush
a glass of wine. Enjoy yourself! [Leave.

Benvolio. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st,
With all the admired beauties of Verona.
Go thither, and with unattainted eye
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
90
Romeo. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood then turn tears to fires;
And these, who often drown'd could never die,
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
Benvolio. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against some other maid
100
That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
Romeo. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exit.]

Scene 3.

A Room in Capulet's House

Capulet's House

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse

Lady Capulet. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old,
I bade her come.—What, lamb! what, lady-bird!—
God forbid!—Where's this girl?—What, Juliet!
Enter Juliet
Juliet. How now! who calls?
Nurse. Your mom.
Juliet. Ma'am, I’m here.
What is your will?
Lady Capulet. This is the matter:—Nurse, give leave awhile,
We must talk in secret.—Nurse, come back again;
10
Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Lady Capulet. She's not fourteen.
Nurse. I'll __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ fourteen of my teeth,—
And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,—
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
Lady Capulet. A fortnight and odd days.
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
[Pg 45]
Susan and she—God rest all Christian souls!—
Were of an age; well, Susan is with God,
20
She was too good for me; but, as I said,
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean'd,—I never shall forget it,—
Of all the days of the year, upon that day,
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
My lord and you were then at Mantua,—
Nay, I do bear a brain;—but, as I said,
30
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
Shake, quoth the dove-house; 'twas no need, I trow,
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven years,
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
She could have run and waddled all about.—
God mark thee to his grace!
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd;
40
An I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish.
Lady Capulet. Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
I came to talk of.—Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married?
Juliet. It is an honour that I dream not of.
[Pg 46]
Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
Lady Capulet. Well, think of marriage now; younger than you
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
50
Are made already mothers. By my count,
I was your mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man
As all the world—why, he's a man of wax.
Lady Capulet. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
Lady Capulet. What say you? can you love the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
60
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen.
Examine every married lineament
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover;
The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
For fair without the fair within to hide.
70
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
[Pg 47]
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him making yourself no less.
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
Juliet. 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.
Enter a Servant
Servant. Madam, the guests are come, supper
served up, you called, my young lady asked for,
80
the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in
extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you,
follow straight.
Lady Capulet. We follow thee.—[Leave, servant.] Juliet, the county stays.
Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Leave the stage.

Scene 4.

A Street

A Street

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, along with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others

Romeo. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
Benvolio. The date is out of such prolixity.
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
[Pg 48]
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance
.
But let them measure us by what they will,
10
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
Romeo. Give me a torch; I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Mercutio. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Romeo. Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Mercutio. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
Romeo. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
20
To soar with his light feathers, and, so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe;
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
Mercutio. And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Romeo. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
Mercutio. If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.—
Give me a case to put my visage in; Wearing a mask
30
A visor for a visor! what care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.
Benvolio. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.
[Pg 49]
Romeo. A torch for me; let wantons light of heart
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase:
I'll be a candle-holder and look on.
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
40
Mercutio. Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word;
If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
Up to the ears.—Come, we burn daylight, ho!
Romeo. Nay, that's not so.
Mercutio. I mean, sir, in hold.
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
Romeo. And we mean well in going to this mask;
But 'tis no wit to go.
Mercutio.Why, you might ask?
Romeo. I dreamt a dream to-night.
50
Mercutio. Me too.
Romeo. Well, what was yours?
Mercutio.Dreamers often lie.
Romeo. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Mercutio. O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
[Pg 50]
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs,
60
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
The traces of the smallest spider's web,
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
70
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lover's brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er 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,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
80
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
[Pg 51]
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
90
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.
This is she—
Romeo.Calm down, Mercutio, calm down!
Thou talk'st of nothing.
Mercutio.True, I speak 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,
100
Turning his face to the dew-dropping South.
Benvolio. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves;
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Romeo. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels, and expire the term
Of a despised life clos'd in my breast
By some vile forfeit of untimely death,
But He that hath the steerage of my course
110
Direct my sail!—On, lusty gentlemen.
Benvolio. Strike, drum. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Scene 5.

A Hall in Capulet's House

A Hall in Capulet's House

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants with napkins.

1 Servingman. Where's Potpan, that he helps not
to take away? He shift a trencher! he scrape a
trencher!

1 Servingman. Where's Potpan, why isn't he helping to take it away? He shift a trencher! he’s scraping a plate!

2 Servingman. When good manners shall lie all
in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too,
'tis a foul thing.

2 Servingman. When good manners are held by just one or two people, and they aren't even clean, that's a disgrace.

1 Servingman. 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
10me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and
Nell.—Antony!—and Potpan!

1 Servant. Get rid of the joint-stools, take away
the court-cupboard, watch the plate.—Good thou,
save me a piece of marchpane; and, as you care for
10me, let the doorman admit Susan Grindstone and
Nell.—Antony!—and Potpan!

2 Servingman. Ay, boy, ready.

2 Servant. Yes, boy, ready.

1 Servingman. You are looked for and called for,
asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

1 Servingman. You're being looked for and called for,
asked for and searched for, in the big room.

2 Servingman. We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer
liver take all.

2 Servingman. We can’t be in two places at once.
Cheerly, guys; pick up the pace for a bit, and the longer
let it all take care of itself.

Enter Capulet, with Juliet and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

Enter Capulet, with Juliet and others from his family, meeting the Visitors and Maskers

Capulet. Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you.—
20
Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
[Pg 53]
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
That I have worn a visor and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please; 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone.—
You are welcome, gentlemen!—Come, musicians, play.—
A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.— [Music plays, and they dance.]
More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
30
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.—
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.—
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
For you and I are past our dancing days.
How long is 't now since last yourself and I
Were in a mask?
2 Capulet. By your lady, thirty years.
Capulet. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
40
2 Capulet. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir;
His son is thirty.
Capulet. Will you share that with me?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
Romeo. [To a Server] What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
[Pg 54]
Servingman. I know not, sir.
Romeo. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
50
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Tybalt. 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,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
60
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Capulet. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
Tybalt. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Capulet. Young Romeo is it?
Tybalt. It's him, that villain Romeo.
Capulet. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
70
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
[Pg 55]
I would not for the wealth of all the town
Here in my house do him disparagement;
Therefore be patient, take no note of him.
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tybalt. It fits when such a villain is a guest;
I'll not endure him.
Capulet. He must be endured;
What, goodman boy! I say he shall. Go to;
80
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him!—God shall mend my soul!
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tybalt. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Capulet Go ahead;
You are a saucy boy.—Is 't so, indeed?—
This trick may chance to scathe you,—I know what.
You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.—
Well said, my hearts!—You are a princox; go!
Be quiet, or—More light, more light!—For shame!
90
I'll make you quiet. What!—Cheerly, my hearts!
Tybalt. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit.]
Romeo. [To Juliet] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
[Pg 56]
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Juliet. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
100
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Romeo. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Juliet. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Romeo. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Juliet. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Romeo. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purg'd. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Juliet. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Romeo. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
Give me my sin again.
112
Juliet. You kiss like it's scripted.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Romeo. What is her mother?
Nurse. Marry, single,
Her mother is the lady of the house,
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Romeo. Is she a Capulet?
120
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
[Pg 57]
Benvolio. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Romeo. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
Capulet. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.—
Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.—
More torches here!—Come on then, let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
I'll to my rest. [Everyone exits except Juliet and Nurse.]
Juliet. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
131
Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
Juliet. What's he that now is going out of door?
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
Juliet. What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
Nurse. I know not.
Juliet. Go, ask his name.—If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.
140
Juliet. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
Juliet. A rhyme I just learned now
Of one I danc'd withal. Call within 'Juliet.'
Nurse. Soon, soon!—
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. [Exit.]

Capulet's Garden

Capulet's Garden


ACT II

Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new-beloved any where.
[Pg 59]
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. [Leave.

Scene 1.

A Lane by the Wall of Capulet's Orchard

A Lane by the Wall of Capulet's Orchard

Enter Romeo

Enter Romeo

Romeo. Can I go forward when my heart is here?—
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
[He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.
Enter Benvolio and Mercutio
Benvolio. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!
Mercutio. He's wise.
And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed.
Benvolio. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall;
Call, good Mercutio.
Mercutio. No, I'll __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ too.—
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh!
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
10
Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove';
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid!—
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.—
[Pg 60]
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
20
Benvolio. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mercutio. This cannot anger him; 'twould anger him
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it and conjur'd it down.
That were some spite; my invocation
Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
I conjure only but to raise up him.
Benvolio. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night;
30
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
Mercutio. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.—
Romeo, good night.—I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
Come, shall we go?
Benvolio.Go ahead, then; for it's pointless
To seek him here that means not to be found. [They exit.

Scene 2.

Capulet's Orchard

Capulet's Garden

Enter Romeo

Enter Romeo

Romeo. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.— [Juliet is seen above at a window.
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
[Pg 61]
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.—
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.—
10
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!—
She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
20
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Juliet. Oh no!
Romeo. She talks.
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
[Pg 62] 30
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
Juliet. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Romeo. [Meanwhile] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Juliet. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
40
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title.—Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
Romeo. I take you at your word.
50
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Juliet. What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night
So stumblest on my counsel?
Romeo. By name
I know not how to tell thee who I am.
[Pg 63]
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
Juliet. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound.—
60
Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
Romeo. Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.
Juliet. How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Romeo. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls,
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
70
Juliet. If they do see thee, they will murther thee.
Romeo. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.
Juliet. I would not for the world they saw thee here.
Romeo. I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes;
And but thou love me, let them find me here.
My life were better ended by their hate
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Juliet. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
[Pg 64]
Romeo. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire;
81
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
Juliet. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!
90
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ay,
And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light;
100
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Romeo. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—
[Pg 65]
Juliet. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
110
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Romeo. What shall I swear by?
Juliet. Don't use profanity.
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.
Romeo. If my heart's true love—
Juliet. Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night;
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden,
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
120
Ere one can say it lightens. Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
Romeo. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Juliet. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Romeo. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
Juliet. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;
And yet I would it were to give again.
130
Romeo. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
Juliet. But to be frank and give it thee again;
And yet I wish but for the thing I have.
[Pg 66]
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. Nurse calls in.
I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!—
Anon, good nurse!—Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again. Exit.
Romeo. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
140
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
Re-enter Juliet, above
Juliet. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
Nurse. Within Madam!
150
Juliet. I come, anon.—But if thou mean'st not well,
I do beseech thee—
Nurse. Within Madam!
Juliet. Eventually, I’ll arrive.
To cease thy suit and leave me to my grief;
To-morrow will I send.
Romeo. So my soul thrives—
[Pg 67]
Juliet. A thousand times good night! [Exit.
Romeo. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.—
Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books,
But love from love toward school with heavy looks. Retiring gradually.
Re-enter Julia, above
Juliet. Hist! Romeo, hist!—O, for a falconer's voice,
160
To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
With repetition of my Romeo's name.
Romeo. It is my soul that calls upon my name;
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!
Juliet. Romeo!
Romeo. Hey there?
Juliet. What time tomorrow?
Shall I send to thee?
Romeo. At nine o'clock.
170
Juliet. I will not fail; 't is twenty years till then.
Romeo. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Juliet. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.
[Pg 68]
Romeo. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
Juliet. 'T is almost morning; I would have thee gone,
And yet no farther than a wanton's bird,
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
180
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Romeo. I would I were thy bird.
Juliet. Sounds good, me too;
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. [Exit above.
Romeo. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
189
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
His help to crave and my dear hap to tell. Exit.

Scene 3.

Friar Laurence's Cell

Friar Laurence's House

EnterFriar Laurence, with a basket

EnterFriar Laurence, with a basket

Friar Laurence. The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
[Pg 69]
From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels.
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
10
What is her burying grave that is her womb,
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find,
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities!
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good but, strain'd from that fair use,
20
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this weak flower
Poison hath residence, and medicine power;
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part,
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encamp them still
In man as well as herbs,—grace and rude will;
And where the worser is predominant,
30
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
[Pg 70]
Enter Romeo
Romeo. Good morrow, father.
Friar Laurence. Bless you!
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?—
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges sleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
40
Thou art up-rous'd with some distemperature;
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
Romeo. That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
Friar Laurence. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
Romeo. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
I have forgot that name and that name's woe.
Friar Laurence. That's my good son; but where
hast thou been, then?
Romeo. I 'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine enemy,
50
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me
That's by me wounded; both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies.
I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe.
[Pg 71]
Friar Laurence. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Romeo. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet.
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
60
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage. When and where and how
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us to-day.
Friar Laurence. Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
70
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet.
If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then:
80
Women may fall when there's no strength in men.
[Pg 72]
Romeo. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Friar Laurence. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Romeo. And bad'st me bury love.
Friar Laurence. Not in a tomb,
To lay one in, another out to have.
Romeo. I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow,
The other did not so.
Friar Laurence. Oh, she knew well
Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.
But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
90
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove
To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
Romeo. O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.
Friar Laurence. Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. [Exit.]

Scene 4.

A Street

A Street

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

Mercutio. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
Came he not home to-night?
Benvolio. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
Mercutio. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
[Pg 73]
Benvolio. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
Mercutio. A challenge, on my life.
Benvolio. Romeo will answer it.
10
Mercutio. Any man that can write may answer
a letter.
Benvolio. Nay, he will answer the letter's master,
how he dares, being dared.
Mercutio. Alas, poor Romeo! he is already dead;
the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his
heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft; and
is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Benvolio. Why, what is Tybalt?
20
Mercutio. More than prince of cats, I can tell you.
O, he is the courageous captain of compliments! He
fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance,
and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two,
and the third in your bosom; the very butcher of a
silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah,
the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay!
Benvolio. The what?
Mercutio. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
30
fantasticoes, these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
a very good blade! a very tall man!'—Why, is not
this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be
thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers,
these pardonnez-mois, who stand so much
[Pg 74]
on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the
old bench? O, their bons, their bons!
Enter Romeo
Benvolio. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
Mercutio. Without his roe, like a dried herring. O
flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the
40
numbers that Petrarch flowed in; Laura to his lady
was but a kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better
love to be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra
a gypsy; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots;
Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.—Signior
Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
fairly last night.
Romeo. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit
did I give you?
50
Mercutio. The slip, sir, the slip; can you not
conceive?
Romeo. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was
great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain
courtesy.
Mercutio. That's as much as to say, such a case
as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
Romeo. Meaning, to curtsy.
Mercutio. Thou hast most kindly hit it.
Romeo. A most courteous exposition.
60
Mercutio. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Romeo. Pink for flower.
[Pg 75]
Mercutio. Right.
Romeo. Why, then is my pump well flowered.
Mercutio. Well said; follow me this jest now till
thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single
sole of it is worn the jest may remain after the wearing
sole singular.
Romeo. O single-souled jest, solely singular for
the singleness!
70
Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio; my
wits fail.
Romeo. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or
I'll cry a match.
Mercutio. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase,
I have done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in
one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole
five. Was I with you there for the goose?
Romeo. Thou wast never with me for any thing
when thou was not there for the goose.
80
Mercutio. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Mercutio. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is
a most sharp sauce.
goose?
Mercutio. O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches
from an inch narrow to an ell broad!
Romeo. I stretch it out for that word 'broad,'
which added to the goose proves thee far and wide
90
[Pg 76]
Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning
for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou
Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well
as by nature; for this drivelling love is like a great
Benvolio. Stop there, stop there.
Romeo. Here's goodly gear!

Enter Nurse and Peter

Enter Nurse and Peter

Mercutio. A sail, a sail!

Mercutio. A sail, a sail!

Benvolio. Two, two; a shirt and a smock.

Benvolio. Two, two; a shirt and a tunic.

100Nurse. Peter!

Nurse. Peter!

Peter. Anon!

Peter. Anonymous!

Nurse. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Mercutio. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her
fan's the fairer of the two.

Mercutio. Good Peter, cover her face; her fan is prettier than she is.

Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

Nurse. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, guys.

Mercutio. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

Mercutio. Good day to you, lovely lady.

Nurse. Is it good den?

Nurse. Is it good now?

Mercutio. 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the hand of
the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

Mercutio. It's definitely true, I'm telling you, because the hand of
the dial is now on the prick of noon.

110Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you!

110Nurse. Shame on you! What kind of man are you!

Romeo. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made
for himself to mar.

Romeo. One, lady, that God made
for himself to ruin.

Nurse. By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself
to mar,' quoth a'?—Gentlemen, can any of you tell
me where I may find the young Romeo?

Nurse. Honestly, that's true; 'for himself to ruin,' you say?—Hey, gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I can find the young Romeo?

Romeo. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be
older when you have found him than he was when
you sought him. I am the youngest of that name,[Pg 77]
for fault of a worse.

Romeo. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be
older by the time you find him than he was when
you looked for him. I am the youngest of that name,[Pg 77]
for lack of a better one.

120Nurse. You say well.

Nurse. You speak well.

Mercutio. Yea, is the worst well? very well took,
i' faith; wisely, wisely.

Mercutio. Yeah, is the worst okay? very well said,
I swear; wisely, wisely.

Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence
with you.

Nurse. If you’re the one, sir, I’d like to have a confidence
with you.

Benvolio. She will indite him to some supper.

She'll invite him to dinner.

Mercutio. So ho!

Mercutio. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__!

Romeo. What hast thou found?

Romeo. What have you found?

Mercutio. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a
lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be
130spent.—Romeo, will you come to your father's?
we'll to dinner thither.

Mercutio. No hare, sir; unless it's a hare, sir, in a
lenten pie, that's something old and hoar before it’s
130used up.—Romeo, are you coming to your father's?
We're heading there for dinner.

Romeo. I will follow you.

Romeo. I'm going to follow you.

Mercutio. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, [singing]
'lady, lady, lady!'
[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.

Mercutio. Goodbye, old lady; goodbye, [singing]
'lady, lady, lady!'
[Mercutio and Benvolio exit.]

Nurse. Marry, farewell!—I pray you, sir, what
saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his
ropery?

Nurse. Well, goodbye!—Please, sir, what was this attitude that was so full of himself?

Romeo. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear
himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than
140he will stand to in a month.

Romeo. A guy, nurse, who loves to hear himself talk, and will say more in one minute than he’ll actually stick to in a month.

Nurse. An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take
him down an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty
such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that
shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I
am none of his skains-mates.—And thou must stand
by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his[Pg 78]
pleasure?

Nurse. If anyone talks bad about me, I’ll put them in their place, even if they’re stronger than they are, and twenty others like them; and if I can’t, I’ll find someone who will. Rude jerk! I’m not one of his Jacks; I’m not one of his flirt-gills.—And you have to just stand there and let every jerk treat me however they want? [Pg 78]

Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I
had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I
150warrant you. I dare draw as soon as another man,
if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on
my side.

Peter. I didn't see anyone use you for their own benefit; if I had, I would have drawn my weapon right away, I promise you. I'm not afraid to draw as soon as anyone else does, if I see a good reason and I have the law backing me up.

Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every
part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!—Pray you,
sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade
me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will
keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should
lead her in a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a
very gross kind of behaviour, as they say; for the
160gentlewoman is young, and, therefore, if you should
deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be
offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

Nurse. Now, afore God, I’m so frustrated that every part of me is shaking. You scoundrel!—Please, sir, a word: as I mentioned, my young lady asked me to find you; what she asked me to say, I will keep to myself; but first let me tell you, if you should lead her in a fool's paradise, as they say, that would be very bad behavior, as they say; for the160 young woman is just that, young, and if you should treat her dishonestly, it would truly be a terrible thing to do to any young lady, and very weak dealing.

Romeo. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress.
I protest unto thee—

Romeo. Nurse, please give my regards to your lady and mistress.
I swear to you—

Nurse. Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as
much. Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman!

Nurse. Good heart, and I swear I'll tell her as
much. Wow, she’s going to be so happy!

Romeo. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost
not mark me.

Romeo. What are you going to tell her, nurse? You're not paying attention to me.

Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest,
170which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.

Nurse. I'll let her know, sir, that you're objecting,
170which, as I see it, is a pretty gentlemanly thing to do.

Romeo. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
[Pg 79]
Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse. No, truly, sir, not a penny.
Romeo. Go to; I say you shall.
Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Romeo. And stay, good nurse; behind the abbey wall
Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
180
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
Romeo. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

Romeo. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.

Romeo. I promise you, my guy is as loyal as can be.

190Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady—Lord,
Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing—O,
there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would
fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as
lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger
her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer
man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

190Nurse. Well, sir; my lady is the sweetest woman—Lord,
Oh my, when she was just a little chatterbox—O,
there's a nobleman in town, a guy named Paris, who would
really like to get close; but she, bless her heart, would rather
lieve see a toad, a literal toad, than see him. I sometimes tease
her and say that Paris is the properer
guy; but, I promise you, when I say that, she looks
as pale as any clout in the entire world. Doesn’t
rosemary and Romeo both start with a letter?

Romeo. Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.

Romeo. Yeah, nurse; what's up with that? Both start with an R.

200Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name; R is
for the—No, I know it begins with some other[Pg 80]
letter—and she hath the prettiest sententious of it,
of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to
hear it.

200Nurse. Ah, joker! that's the dog's name; R is
for the—No, I remember it starts with a different[Pg 80]
letter—and she has the cutest saying about it,
about you and rosemary, that you would really enjoy
hearing it.

Romeo. Commend me to thy lady.

Romeo. Say hi to your girl.

Nurse. Ay, a thousand times.—[Exit Romeo] Peter!

Nurse. Yes, a thousand times. —[Exit Romeo] Peter!

Peter. Anon.

Peter. Anonymous.

Nurse. Before, and apace.
[Exeunt.

Nurse. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
[Exit.


Scene 5.

Capulet's Orchard

Capulet's Orchard

Enter Juliet

Enter Juliet

Juliet. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
In half an hour she promis'd to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him; that's not so.
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams
Driving back shadows over lowering hills;
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
10
Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me;
But old folks, many feign as they were dead,
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.—
[Pg 81]
Enter Nurse and Peter
O God, she comes!—O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Peter exits.
21
Juliet. Now, good sweet nurse,—O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile.
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
Juliet. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
Nurse. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
30
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Juliet. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance.
Let me be satisfied, is 't good or bad?

Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you
know not how to choose a man. Romeo! no, not
40he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his
leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and
a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they
are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy,[Pg 82]
but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at
home?

Nurse. Well, you've made a simple choice; you
don't know how to pick a guy. Romeo! no, not
40him; even though he looks better than any guy out there, his
legs are better than anyone else's; and as for his hands, feet, and
body, even though we can't really talk about them, they
are past compare. He isn't the best at being polite,[Pg 82]
but I assure you, he's as gentle as a lamb. Go on, girl; serve God. What, have you eaten at
home?

Juliet. No, no; but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
50
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o' t'other side,—O, my back, my back!
Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Juliet. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
And, I warrant, a virtuous,—Where is your mother?
Juliet. Where is my mother! why, she is within;
60
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
Where is your mother?'
Nurse. Oh dear lady!
Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Juliet. Here's such a coil!—come, what says Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Juliet. I have.
[Pg 83]
Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
70
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church; I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark.
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight.
Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Juliet. Hie to high fortune!—Honest nurse, farewell. [Exit.

Scene 6.

Friar Laurence's Cell

Friar Laurence's Place

Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo

Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo

Friar Laurence. So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
Romeo. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love—devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.
Friar Laurence. These violent delights have violent ends,
10
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume; the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
[Pg 84]
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.—
Enter Juliet
Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint!
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
20
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.
Juliet. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Friar Laurence. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Juliet. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
Romeo. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Juliet. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
31
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
Friar Laurence. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exit.

Loggia of Capulet's House

Capulet's House Loggia


ACT III


Scene 1.

A Public Place

A Public Space

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants

Benvolio. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mercutio. Thou art like one of those fellows that
when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his
sword upon the table, and says 'God send me no
need of thee!' and by the operation of the second[Pg 86]
cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is
10no need.

Mercutio. You're like one of those guys who, when he walks into a bar, slams his sword down on the table and says, 'I hope I don't need this!' But after a second drink, he ends up starting a fight, even though there's really no reason to.

Benvolio. Am I like such a fellow?

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ like this guy?

Mercutio. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in
thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be
moody, and as soon moody to be moved.

Mercutio. Come on, you’re as fiery as anyone in Italy right now, quick to get upset and just as quick to be calmed down.

Benvolio. And what to?

Benvolio. And what now?

Mercutio. Nay, an there were two such, we should
have none shortly, for one would kill the other.
Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath
a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard than thou
20hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking
nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast
hazel eyes; what eye but such an eye would spy out
such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as
an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been
beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou
hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street,
because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain
asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a
tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter?
30with another for tying his new shoes with old riband?
and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Mercutio. Look, if there were two of you, we wouldn’t have any left soon, because one would kill the other. You! Why would you pick a fight with someone who has a hair more or a hair less in his beard than you do? You would pick a fight with someone for cracking nuts, with no other reason except that you have hazel eyes; what other kind of eye would notice such a fight? Your head is as full of arguments as an egg is full of yolk, and yet your head has been knocked around like a messed-up egg for fighting. You’ve argued with a guy for coughing in the street, just because it woke up your dog that was napping in the sun. Didn’t you get into it with a tailor for wearing his new jacket before Easter? And with another guy for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet you’re still up for quarreling!

Benvolio. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art,
any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an
hour and a quarter.

Benvolio. If I were as ready to fight as you are,
anyone could buy my life for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Mercutio. The fee-simple! O simple!

Mercutio. The freehold! Oh, silly!

Benvolio. By my head, here come the Capulets.

Benvolio. Honestly, here come the Capulets.

Mercutio. By my heel, I care not.

Mercutio. Honestly, I couldn’t care less.

Enter Tybalt and others

Enter Tybalt and others

Tybalt. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.—
Gentlemen, good den; a word with one of you.

Tybalt. Stay right with me, because I need to talk to them.—
Gentlemen, good den; I’d like to have a word with one of you.

40Mercutio. And but one word with one of us?
couple it with something; make it a word and a
blow.

40Mercutio. So you want just one word with one of us?
Add something to it; turn it into a word and a
hit.

Tybalt. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir,
an you will give me occasion.

Tybalt. You’ll find me apt enough to if you give me a reason, sir.

Mercutio. Could you not take some occasion without
giving?

Mercutio. Can’t you find a reason to do something without needing to give?

Tybalt. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,—

Tybalt. Mercutio, you __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Romeo,—

Mercutio. Consort! what, dost thou make us
minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to
50hear nothing but discords; here's my fiddlestick,
here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!

Mercutio. Hey! What, are you turning us into performers?
If you make us performers, be prepared to
50hear nothing but chaos; here's my instrument,
here's what will make you dance. Join in, then!

Benvolio. We talk here in the public haunt of men.
Either withdraw unto some private place,
Or reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
Mercutio. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Enter Romeo
Tybalt. Well, peace be with you, sir; here comes my man.
Mercutio. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery.
[Pg 88] 60
Marry, go before to field, he 'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
Tybalt. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this,—thou art a villain.
Romeo. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting. Villain am I none,
Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
Tybalt. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
70
Romeo. I do protest, I never injur'd thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;
And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender
As dearly as my own,—be satisfied.
Mercutio. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
A la stoccata carries it away.— Drawings.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tybalt. What wouldst thou have with me?

Tybalt. What do you want from me?

Mercutio. Good king of cats, nothing but one of
80your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal,
and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest
of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his
pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about
your ears ere it be out.

Mercutio. Good king of cats, just one of your nine lives; I plan to challenge that, and depending on how you treat me from now on, dry-beat the other eight. Are you going to pull your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Hurry up, or mine will be around your ears before yours is even out.

Tybalt. I am for you. [Drawing.
Romeo. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Tybalt. I'm ready for you. Drawing.
Romeo. Calm down, Mercutio, put your rapier away.

Mercutio. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.

Mercutio. Come on, sir, your __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__. [They fight.

Romeo. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.—
[Pg 89]
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
90
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! [Leave __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Mercutio.I'm hurt.
A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Benvolio. What, are you hurt?
Mercutio. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.—
Where is my page?—Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.

Romeo. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

Romeo. Come on, man; it can't hurt that much.

Mercutio. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so
wide as a church-door, but 'tis enough, 'twill serve;
100ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave
man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.—A
plague o' both your houses!—Zounds, a dog, a rat,
a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart,
a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
arithmetic!—Why the devil came you between us?
I was hurt under your arm.

Mercutio. No, it's not as deep as a well, nor as
wide as a church door, but it's enough; it'll do;
100ask for me tomorrow, and you'll find me a grave
man. I'm hit, I guarantee it, for this world.—A
plague on both your houses!—Damn it, a dog, a rat,
a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart,
a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
math!—Why the hell did you step between us?
I was hurt under your arm.

Romeo. I thought all for the best.

Romeo. I thought everything was for the best.

Mercutio. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint.—A plague o' both your houses!
110
They have made worms' meat of me. I have it,
And soundly too;—your houses! [Mercutio and Benvolio exit]
[Pg 90]
Romeo. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander,—Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin!—O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
Re-enter Benvolio
Benvolio. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
120
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Romeo. This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end.
Benvolio. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Re-enter Tybalt
Romeo. Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!—
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again
That late thou gav'st me! for Mercutio's soul
130
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Tybalt. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
[Pg 91]
Romeo. This will decide that. They fight; Tybalt is defeated.
Benvolio. Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
Stand not amaz'd; the prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
Romeo. O, I am fortune's fool!
Benvolio. Why are you staying? [Exit Romeo.]

Enter Citizens, etc.

Join Citizens, etc.

140
1 Citizen. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he?
Benvolio. There lies that Tybalt.
1 Citizen. Come with me, sir;
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and others
Prince. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Benvolio. O noble prince, I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady Capulet. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
150
O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt
Of my dear kinsman!—Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.—
O cousin, cousin!
[Pg 92]
Prince. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Benvolio. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure. All this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
160
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,
'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and swifter than his tongue,
His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
170
And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio; and then Tybalt fled,
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain,
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Lady Capulet. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
180
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.
[Pg 93]
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Prince. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Montague. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.
Prince. And for that offence
190
Immediately we do exile him hence.
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body and attend our will;
200
Mercy but murthers, pardoning those that kill. [They exit.

Scene 2.

Capulet's Orchard

Capulet's Garden

Enter Juliet

Enter Juliet

Juliet. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus' lodging; such a waggoner
[Pg 94]
As Phaethon would whip you to the west
And bring in cloudy night immediately.—
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing Night,
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.—
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
10
It best agrees with night.—Come, civil Night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle, till strange love grown bold
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, Night, come, Romeo, come, thou day in night,
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of Night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gentle Night, come, loving, black-brow'd Night,
21
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.—
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
30
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.—O, here comes my nurse,
[Pg 95]
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.—
Enter Nurse, with cords
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
That Romeo bid thee fetch?
Nurse. Yeah, yeah, the Cords. [Throws them away.]
Juliet. Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
Nurse. Ah, well-a-day! 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!
Juliet. Can heaven be so envious?
40
Nurse. Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot.—O Romeo, Romeo!—
Who ever would have thought it?—Romeo!
Juliet. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but ay,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I, if there be such an I,
Or those eyes shut that make thee answer ay.
50
If he be slain, say ay; or if not, no.
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
[Pg 96]
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes—
God save the mark!—here on his manly breast;
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse,
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.
Juliet. O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,
60
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
Juliet. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living if those two are gone?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
70
Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
Juliet. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
Juliet. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face;
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
[Pg 97]
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
80
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
Nurse.No trust exists,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.—
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ.—
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows, make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
90
Juliet.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ be your tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame;
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit,
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
Juliet. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?—
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
100
But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you mistaking offer up to joy.
[Pg 98]
My husband lives that Tybalt would have slain,
And Tybalt's dead that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murther'd me. I would forget it fain,
110
But, O, it presses to my memory,
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo—banished!'
That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there;
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt's dead,
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
120
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
'Romeo is banished!'—to speak that word,
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!'
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.—
Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?
Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse.
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
130
Juliet. Wash they his wounds with tears; mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those cords.—Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,
[Pg 99]
Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd;
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Nurse. Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
To comfort you; I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
Juliet. O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
141
And bid him come to take his last farewell. [They exit.

Scene 3.

Friar Laurence's Cell

Friar Laurence's Room

Enter Friar Laurence

Enter Friar Laurence

Friar Laurence. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Enter Romeo
Romeo. Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?
Friar Laurence. Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company;
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Romeo. What less than doomsday is the prince's doom?
[Pg 100] 10
Friar Laurence. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Romeo. Ha, banishment! be merciful, say death,
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death; do not say banishment.
Friar Laurence. Hence from Verona art thou banished;
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Romeo. There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
20
And world's exile is death. Then banished
Is death misterm'd; calling death banishment
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil'st upon the stroke that murthers me.
Friar Laurence. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Romeo. 'Tis torture, and not mercy; heaven is here,
30
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion-flies than Romeo. They may seize
[Pg 101]
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
40
But Romeo may not, he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
They are free men, but I am banished.
And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But 'banished' to kill me?—Banished!
O friar, the damned use that word in hell,
Howling attends it; how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
50
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
Friar Laurence. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
Romeo. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Friar Laurence. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Romeo. Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
60
It helps not, it prevails not; talk no more.
Friar Laurence. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
[Pg 102]
Romeo. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Friar Laurence. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Romeo. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murthered,
Doting like me and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
70
Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Knocking inside.
Friar Laurence. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
Romeo. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick groans
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. [Knock knock.
Friar Laurence. Hark, how they knock!—Who's there?—Romeo, arise;
Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile!—Stand up; Knock, knock.
Run to my study.—By and by!—God's will,
What simpleness is this!—I come, I come! Knock, knock.
Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
Nurse. [Inside] Let me come in and you shall know my errand;
I come from Lady Juliet.
80
Friar Laurence.Welcome!
[Pg 103]
Enter Nurse
Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
Friar Laurence. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case,
Just in her case!
Friar Laurence. O woful sympathy!
Piteous predicament!
Nurse.Still, she lies there,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.—
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man.
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand.
90
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Romeo. Nurse!
Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
Romeo. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth she not think me an old murtherer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
100
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
[Pg 104]
Romeo.As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murther her, as that name's cursed hand
Murther'd her kinsman.—O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion. Pulling out his sword.
Friar Laurence.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__!
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
110
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me; by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady too that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
120
Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose.
Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
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;
[Pg 105] 130
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
Is set a-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 wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too.
The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
140
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehav'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 comfort her;
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
150
Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the 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 hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto;
Romeo is coming.
[Pg 106]
Nurse. O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
160
To hear good counsel; O, what learning is!—
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Romeo. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir;
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. Leave.
Romeo. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Friar Laurence. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
170
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here.
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
Romeo. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee.
Farewell. [They exit.

Scene 4.

A Room in Capulet's House

A Room in Capulet's House

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris

Capulet. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily
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.
[Pg 107]
Paris. These times of woe afford no time to woo.—
Madam, good night; commend me to your daughter.
10
Lady Capulet. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Capulet. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd
In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.—
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love,
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next—
But, soft! what day is this?
Paris.Monday, my lord.
Capulet. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.
20
O' Thursday let it be; o' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado,—a friend or two;
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much.
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Paris. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
30
Capulet. Well, get you gone; o' Thursday be it then.—
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
[Pg 108]
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.—
Farewell, my lord.—Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very late, that we
May call it early by and by.—Good night. [Exit.]

Scene 5.

Enter Romeo and Juliet

Enter Romeo and Juliet

Juliet. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Romeo. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale; look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
10
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Juliet. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer
And light thee on thy way to Mantua;
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.
Romeo. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
20
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
[Pg 109]
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is 't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Juliet. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division;
30
This doth not so, for she divideth us.
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes;
O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day.
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
Romeo. More light and light?—More dark and
dark our woes!
Enter Nurse
Nurse. Madam!
Juliet. Nurse?
Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.
The day is broke; be wary, look about. Exit.
41
Juliet. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Romeo. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. [Romeo comes down.]
Juliet. Art thou gone so? my lord, my love, my friend!
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many days.
[Pg 110]
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!
Romeo. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
50
Juliet. O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
Romeo. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb;
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Romeo. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you;
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! [Leave.
Juliet. O Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee fickle;
60
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, Fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back.
Lady Capulet. [Inside] Ho, daughter! are you up?
Juliet. Who is 't that calls? is it my lady mother?
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
Enter Lady Capulet
Lady Capulet. Why, how now, Juliet!
Juliet.I'm not feeling well.
Lady Capulet. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
[Pg 111] 70
An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
Therefore, have done. Some grief shows much of love,
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
Juliet. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
Lady Capulet. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
Which you weep for.
Juliet.Feeling the loss so much,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
Lady Capulet. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
Juliet. What villain, madam?
Lady Capulet.That same villain, Romeo.
80
Juliet. Villain and he be many miles asunder.—
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
Lady Capulet. That is, because the traitor murtherer lives.
Juliet. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands.
Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
Lady Capulet. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not;
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram
90
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company;
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
[Pg 112]
With Romeo, till I behold him—dead—
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd.—
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it,
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd, and cannot come to him,
100
To wreak the love I bore my cousin
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
Lady Capulet. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Juliet. And joy comes well in such a needy time.
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
Lady Capulet. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
110
Juliet. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
Lady Capulet. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Juliet. Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
[Pg 113]
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
120
I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
Lady Capulet. Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter Capulet and Nurse
Capulet. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
But for the sunset of my brother's son
It rains downright.—
How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore showering? In one little body
130
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind:
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs,
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body.—How now, wife!
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
Lady Capulet. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave!
140
Capulet. Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
[Pg 114]
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Juliet. Not proud you have, but thankful that you have;
Proud can I never be of what I hate,
But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
Capulet. How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
'Proud' and 'I thank you' and 'I thank you not,'
150
And yet 'not proud'! Mistress minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow-face!
Lady Capulet. Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
Juliet. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Capulet. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
160
I tell thee what, get thee to church o' Thursday
Or never after look me in the face.
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch.—Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child,
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her;
Out on her, hilding!
[Pg 115]
Nurse.God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
Capulet. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
170
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse. I speak no treason.
Capulet.O, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__!
Nurse. May not one speak?
Capulet.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, you mumbling idiot!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.
Lady Capulet.You're too attractive.
Capulet. God's bread! it makes me mad! Day, night, late, early,
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
180
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man,—
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'—
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you;
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
Look to 't, think on 't, I do not use to jest.
190
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise.
[Pg 116]
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
Trust to 't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. Exit.
Juliet. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
200
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
Lady Capulet. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. Exit.
Juliet. O God!—O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.—
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
210
Upon so soft a subject as myself!—
What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, nurse.
Nurse.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Romeo
Is banished, and all the world to nothing
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
[Pg 117]
I think it best you married with the county.
O, he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a dishclout to him; an eagle, madam,
220
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first; or if it did not,
Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were
As living here and you no use of him.
Juliet. Speakest thou from thy heart?
Nurse.And from my spirit too;
Or else beshrew them both.
Juliet.Amen!
Nurse.What’s going on?
Juliet. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
230
Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell,
To make confession and to be absolv'd.
Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. Exit.
Juliet. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais'd him with above compare
So many thousand times?—Go, counsellor;
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.—
I'll to the friar, to know his remedy;
If all else fail, myself have power to die. Exit.

Juliet at Laurence's Cell.

Juliet at Laurence's Cell.


ACT IV


Scene 1.

Friar Laurence's Cell

Friar Laurence's Place

Enter Friar Laurence and Paris

Enter Friar Laurence and Paris

Friar Laurence. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
Paris. My father Capulet will have it so,
Friar Laurence. You say you do not know the lady's mind;
[Pg 119]
Friar Laurence. You say you do not know the lady's mind;
Uneven is the course, I like it not.
Paris. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
10
That she doth give her sorrow so much sway,
And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears,
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society.
Now do you know the reason of this haste.
Friar Laurence. [Side note] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.—
Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Enter Juliet
Juliet. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
20
Paris. That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
Juliet. What must be shall be.
Friar Laurence.That's a specific text.
Paris. Come you to make confession to this father?
Juliet. To answer that, I should confess to you.
Paris. Do not deny to him that you love me.
Juliet. I will confess to you that I love him.
Paris. So will you, I am sure, that you love me.
Juliet. If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
[Pg 120]
Paris. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears.
30
Juliet. The tears have got small victory by that,
For it was bad enough before their spite.
Paris. Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report.
Juliet. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Paris. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
Juliet. It may be so, for it is not mine own.—
Are you at leisure, holy father, now,
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
Friar Laurence. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.—
40
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Paris. God shield I should disturb devotion!—
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye;
Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss. [Leave.
Juliet. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
Friar Laurence. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits.
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
50
Juliet. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it;
If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
[Pg 121]
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
60
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel, or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
Friar Laurence. Hold, daughter! I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
70
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it;
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.
Juliet. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
80
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
[Pg 122]
Or bid me go into a new-made grave
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud,—
Things, that to hear them told, have made me tremble,—
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
Friar Laurence. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
90
To marry Paris. Wednesday is to-morrow.
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;
Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber.
Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off;
When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress but surcease.
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
100
To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
Then, as the manner of our country is,
110
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
[Pg 123]
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
And hither shall he come; and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear
120
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
Juliet. Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
Friar Laurence. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
In this resolve. I'll send a friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
Juliet. Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.
Farewell, dear father! [They exit.]

Scene 2.

Hall in Capulet's House

Hall in Capulet's House

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two Servingmen

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two Servingmen

Capulet. So many guests invite as here are writ.— [Exit Servant.
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

Capulet. There are so many guests invited as are written here.— [Exit Assistant.
Hey, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

2 Servant. You shall have none ill, sir, for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.

2 Servant. You won’t have any trouble, sir, because I’ll see if they can clean their plates.

Capulet. How canst thou try them so?

Capulet. How can you test them like that?

2 Servant. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his[Pg 124] own fingers; therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.

2 Servant. Honestly, sir, 'tis an ill cook someone who can't clean their own fingers; so anyone who can't clean their fingers isn't coming with me.

Capulet. Go, be gone.— [Leave, Servant.]
10
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse. Ay, forsooth.
Capulet. Well, he may chance to do some good on her;
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Nurse. See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Enter Juliet
Capulet. How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
Juliet. Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd
20
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here
And beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.
Capulet. Send for the county; go tell him of this.
I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
Juliet. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
Capulet. Why, I am glad on 't; this is well,—stand up.
This is as 't should be.—Let me see the county;
30
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.—
[Pg 125]
Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Juliet. Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
Lady Capulet. No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
Capulet. Go, nurse, go with her; we'll to church to-morrow. [Juliet and Nurse exit.]
Lady Capulet. We shall be short in our provision;
'Tis now near night.
Capulet. Tush, I will move around,
40
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her.
I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone,
I'll play the housewife for this once.—What, ho!—
They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow. My heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. [They exit.]

Scene III.

Juliet's Chamber

Juliet’s Room

Enter Juliet and Nurse

Enter Juliet and Nurse

Juliet. Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night,
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin.
[Pg 126]
Enter Lady Capulet
Lady Capulet. What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
Juliet. No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow.
So please you, let me now be left alone,
10
And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all
In this so sudden business.
Lady Capulet. Good night!
Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. [Lady Capulet and Nurse exit.]
Juliet. Farewell!—God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
That almost freezes up the heat of life;
I'll call them back again to comfort me.—
Nurse!—What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.—
20
Come, vial.—
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
No, no!—this shall forbid it.—Lie thou there.— [Putting down a dagger.
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd
[Pg 127]
I fear it is; and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man.
30
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,—
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
40
Where for these many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;—
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals hearing them run mad;—
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
50
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?—
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
[Pg 128]
Upon a rapier's point.—Stay, Tybalt, stay!—
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. She throws herself onto the bed.

Scene 4.

Hall in Capulet's House

Capulet's House Hall

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse

Lady Capulet. Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, nurse.
Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Enter Capulet
Capulet. Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,
The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock.—
Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica;
Spare not for cost.
Nurse.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, let's go,
Get you to bed; faith, you'll be sick to-morrow
For this night's watching.
Capulet. No, not a whit. What! I have watch' ere now
10
All night for lesser cause and ne'er been sick.
Lady Capulet. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time,
But I will watch you from such watching now. [Lady Capulet and Nurse exit.]
Capulet. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!—
[Pg 129]
Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets
Now, buddy,
What's there?
1 Servant. Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what.
Capulet. Make haste, make haste.—[Leave, Servant.]
Hey, grab __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__;
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
2 Servant. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter. Leave.
Capulet. Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
21
Thou shalt be logger-head.—Good faith, 'tis day;
The county will be here with music straight,
For so he said he would. I hear him near.— Music inside.
Nurse!—Wife!—What, ho!—What, nurse, I say!
Re-enter Nurse
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris.—Hie, make haste,
Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already;
Make haste, I say. [Exit.

Scene 5.

Juliet's Chamber

Juliet's Room

Enter Nurse

Join Nurse

Nurse. Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she.—
[Pg 130]
Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!
Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!
What, not a word?—How sound is she asleep!
I needs must wake her.—Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
He'll fright you up, i' faith.—Will it not be? [Opens the curtains.]
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!
I must needs wake you. Lady! lady! lady!—
10
Alas, alas!—Help, help! my lady's dead!—
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!—
Some aqua vitæ, ho!—My lord! my lady!
Enter Lady Capulet
Lady Capulet. What noise is here?
Nurse. Oh, what a sad day!
Lady Capulet. What is the matter?
Nurse. Look, look! Oh no!
Lady Capulet. O me, O me! My child, my only life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!—
Help, help! Call help.
Enter Capulet
Capulet. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day!
20
Lady Capulet. Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
[Pg 131]
Capulet. Ha! let me see her. Out, alas! she's cold;
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nurse. O lamentable day!
Lady Capulet.Oh, what a sad time!
Capulet. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
Enter Father Laurence and Paris with Musicians
Friar Laurence. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
30
Capulet. Ready to go, but never to return.—
O son! the night before thy wedding-day
Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
Paris. Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
Lady Capulet. Accurst, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
40
Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
[Pg 132]
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
Nurse. O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day, most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this!
50
O woful day, O woful day!
Paris. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most detestable Death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
Capulet. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
To murther, murther our solemnity?—
O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;
60
And with my child my joys are buried.
Friar Laurence. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from death,
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion,
For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd;
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
70
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
[Pg 133]
O, in this love you love your child so ill
That you run mad seeing that she is well;
She's not well married that lives married long,
But she's best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church;
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
80
Capulet. All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Friar Laurence. Sir, go you in,—and, madam, go with him;—
And go, Sir Paris;—every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
90
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill;
Move them no more by crossing their high will.
[Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.
1 Musician. Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up;
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Leave.
1 Musician. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Peter. Musicians, O musicians, 'Heart's ease,
Heart's ease'; O, an you will have me live, play
'Heart's ease.'
1 Musician. Why 'Heart's ease'?
100
Peter. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays
'My heart is full of woe.' O, play me some merry
dump, to comfort me.
1 Musician. Not a dump we; 'tis no time to
play now.
Peter. You will not, then?
1 Musician. No.
Peter. I will then give it you soundly.
1 Musician. What will you give us?
Peter. No money, on my faith, but the gleek; I will give you the
110
minstrel.
1 Musician. Then will I give you the
serving-creature.
Peter. Then will I lay the serving-creature's
dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets; I'll
re you, I'll fa you; do you note me?
1 Musician. An you re us and fa us, you note
us.
2 Musician. Pray you, put up your dagger, and
put out your wit.
120
Peter. Then have at you with my wit! I will
drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron
dagger. Answer me like men:
[Pg 135]
'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound'—
why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver
sound'?—What say you, Simon Catling?
1 Musician. Marry, sir, because silver hath a
sweet sound.
130
Peter. Pretty!—What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
2 Musician. I say 'silver sound,' because musicians
sound for silver.
Peter. Pretty too!—What say you, James Soundpost?
3 Musician. Faith, I know not what to say.
Peter. O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer; I
will say for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'
because musicians have no gold for sounding.
'Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.' Exit.
141
1 Musician. What a pestilent knave is this same!
2 Musician. Hang him, Jack!—Come, we'll in
here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [They exit.]

Tomb of the Scaligers, Verona

Scaliger Tombs, Verona


ACT V

Scene 1.

Mantua. A Street

Mantua. A Street

Enter Romeo

Enter Romeo

Romeo. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne,
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead—
Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!—
[Pg 137]
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips
That I reviv'd and was an emperor.
10
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!—
Enter Balthasar
News from Verona!—How now, Balthasar!
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? that I ask again,
For nothing can be ill if she be well.
Balthasar. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Her body sleeps in Capel's monument
And her immortal part with angels lives.
20
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault
And presently took post to tell it you.
O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Romeo. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!—
Thou know'st my lodging; get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses. I will hence to-night.
Balthasar. I do beseech you, sir, have patience;
Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
Romeo.Nah, you're mistaken;
30
Leave me and do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Balthasar. No, my good lord.
[Pg 138]
Romeo. No worries; go away.
And hire those horses. I'll be with thee straight.— Exit Balthasar.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means.—O mischief, thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,—
And hereabouts he dwells,—which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
40
Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,
50
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
And this same needy man must sell it me!
As I remember, this should be the house.
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.—
What, ho! apothecary!
[Pg 139]
Enter Apothecary
Apothecary.Who’s calling so loudly?
Romeo. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have
60
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Apothecary. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
Is death to any he that utters them.
Romeo. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
70
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it and take this.
Apothecary. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Romeo. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
80
Romeo. There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
[Pg 140]
Doing more murthers in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.—
Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Leave the stage.]

Scene 2.

Friar Laurence's Cell

Friar Laurence's place

Enter Friar John

Enter Friar John

Friar John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter Friar Lawrence
Friar Laurence. This same should be the voice of Friar John.—
Welcome from Mantua; what says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
Friar John. Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
10
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors and would not let us forth,
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Friar Laurence. Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
Friar John. I could not send it,—here it is again,—
[Pg 141]
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.
Friar Laurence. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge
Of dear import, and the neglecting it
20
May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow and bring it straight
Unto my cell.
Friar John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Leave.
Friar Laurence. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.
She will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my cell till Romeo come.
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! [Leave.

Scene 3.

A Churchyard; in it a Tomb belonging to the Capulets

A Churchyard; in it a tomb that belongs to the Capulets

Enter Paris, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch

Enter Paris, and his Page carrying flowers and a torch

Paris. Give me thy torch, boy; hence, and stand aloof;
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
[Pg 142]
Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
But thou shalt hear it; whistle then to me
As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
10
Page. [Note] I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the churchyard, yet I will adventure. Retiring.
Paris. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew.
O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans;
The obsequies that I for thee will keep
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.— The Page whistles.
The boy gives warning something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
20
To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?
What, with a torch!—muffle me, night, awhile. Retiring.
Enter Romeo and Balthasar, with a torch, mattock, etc.
Romeo. Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light. Upon thy life, I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death
[Pg 143]
Is partly to behold my lady's face,
30
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring, a ring that I must use
In dear employment. Therefore hence, be gone;
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
The time and my intents are savage-wild,
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
40
Balthasar. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Romeo. So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that.
Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Balthasar. [On the side] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. Retiring.
Romeo. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! [Opens the grave.]
Paris. This is that banish'd haughty Montague
50
That murther'd my love's cousin,—with which grief,
It is supposed, the fair creature died,—
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies; I will apprehend him.— Advancements.
[Pg 144]
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!
Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.
Obey, and go with me, for thou must die.
Romeo. I must indeed, and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man.
60
Fly hence, and leave me; think upon these gone,
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
Put not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury; O, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm'd against myself.
Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Paris. I do defy thy conjurations
69
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Romeo. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! They’re fighting.
Page. O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. [Sign out.
Paris. O, I am slain!—[Falls.] If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies.
Romeo. In faith, I will.—Let me peruse this face.
Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet;
Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
80
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
[Pg 145]
To think it was so?—O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,—
A grave? O, no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth;
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.— [Burial in Paris.]
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry! which their keepers call
90
Call this a lightning?—O my love! my wife!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.—
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
100
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!—Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe
That unsubstantial Death is amorous,
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I still will stay with thee,
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again. Here, here will I remain
[Pg 146]
With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here
110
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.—Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!—
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
119
Here's to my love! Beverages.—O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick.—Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies.
Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, Friar Laurence, with a lantern, crow, and spade
Friar Laurence. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
Have my old feet stumbled at graves!—Who's there?
Balthasar. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Friar Laurence. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument.
Balthasar. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
One that you love.
[Pg 147]
Friar Laurence. Who is it?
129
Balthasar.Romeo.
Friar Laurence. How long hath he been there?
Balthasar.A full 30 minutes.
Friar Laurence. Go with me to the vault.
Balthasar. I can't, sir;
My master knows not but I am gone hence,
And fearfully did menace me with death
If I did stay to look on his intents.
Friar Laurence. Stay, then; I 'll go alone.—Fear comes upon me;
O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing!
Balthasar. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him. Exit.
Friar Laurence. Romeo! Advancements.
140
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre?—
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?— [Enters the crypt.
Romeo! O, pale!—Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?—Ah, what an unkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—
The lady stirs. Juliet wakes up.
Juliet. O comfortable friar! where is my lord?—
I do remember well where I should be,
150
And there I am.—Where is my Romeo? Inner noise.
[Pg 148]
Friar Laurence. I hear some noise.—Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead,
And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet. Noise again.—I dare no longer stay.
160
Juliet. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. [Exit Friar Laurence.]
What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.—
O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after?—I will kiss thy lips;
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative. Kisses him.
Thy lips are warm.
1 Watch. Within Lead, boy; which way?
Juliet. Yea, noise? then I'll be brief.—O happy dagger! Grabbing Romeo's dagger.
This is thy sheath [Self-harms]; there rest, and let me die.
[Falls on Romeo's body, and dies.
Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris
171
Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
[Pg 149]
1 Watch. The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard.
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.—
[Exeunt some.
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;
And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.—
Go, tell the prince;—run to the Capulets;—
Raise up the Montagues;—some others search.— [Other Watchmen exit.]
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
180
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Re-enter some of the Watch, with Balthazar
2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
1 Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.
Re-enter others of the Watch, with Friar Laurence
3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps.
We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this churchyard side.
1 Watch. A great suspicion; stay the friar too.
Enter the Prince and Attendants
Prince. What misadventure is so early up
That calls our person from our morning's rest?
[Pg 150]
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others
190
Capulet. What should it be that they so shriek abroad?
Lady Capulet. The people in the street cry Romeo,
Some Juliet, and some Paris, and all run
With open outcry toward our monument.
Prince. What fear is this which startles in our ears?
1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.
Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murther comes.
1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man,
200
With instruments upon them fit to open
These dead men's tombs.
Capulet. O heaven!—O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista'en,—for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,—
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
Lady Capulet. O me! this sight of death is as a bell
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter Monty and others
Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up,
To see thy son and heir more early down.
[Pg 151]
210
Montague. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath.
What further woe conspires against mine age?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
Montague. O thou untaught! what manners is in this,
To press before thy father to a grave?
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes
220
And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.—
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Friar Laurence. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murther;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus'd.
Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Friar Laurence. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
230
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife.
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city,
[Pg 152]
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
To County Paris; then comes she to me,
240
And with wild looks bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion, which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death; meantime I writ to Romeo
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease.
250
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was stay'd by accident and yesternight
Return'd my letter back. Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault,
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo;
But when I came, some minute ere the time
Of her awaking, here untimely lay
The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
260
She wakes, and I entreated her come forth
And bear this work of heaven with patience;
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
And she too desperate would not go with me,
But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
[Pg 153]
All this I know, and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy; and, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd some hour before his time
Unto the rigour of severest law.
Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.—
271
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
Balthasar. I brought my master news of Juliet's death,
And then in post he came from Mantua
To this same place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father,
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not and left him there.
Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it.—
Where is the county's page that rais'd the watch?—
280
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did.
Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb,
And by and by my master drew on him;
And then I ran away to call the watch.
Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death;
And here he writes that he did buy a poison
Of a poor pothecary, and therewithal
290
Came to this vault to die and lie with Juliet.—
[Pg 154]
Where be these enemies?—Capulet!—Montague!
See, what a scourge is aid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen; all are punish'd.
Capulet. O brother Montague, give me thy hand;
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
Montague.But I can give you more;
For I will raise her statue in pure gold,
300
That while Verona by that name is known
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.
Capulet. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie,
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun for sorrow will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd and some punished;
309
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exit.

The Nurse and Peter

The Nurse & Peter


NOTES

Intro

The Metre of the Play.—It should be understood at the outset that metre, or the mechanism of verse, is something altogether distinct from the music of verse. The one is matter of rule, the other of taste and feeling. Music is not an absolute necessity of verse; the metrical form is a necessity, being that which constitutes the verse.

The Play's Rhythm.—It should be clear from the beginning that meter, or the structure of verse, is completely different from the music of verse. One is a matter of rules, while the other is about taste and emotion. Music isn't strictly necessary for verse; the metrical form is essential, as it defines what verse is.

The plays of Shakespeare (with the exception of rhymed passages, and of occasional songs and interludes) are all in unrhymed or blank verse; and the normal form of this blank verse is illustrated[Pg 158] by the second line of the prologue to the present play: "In fair Verona, where we lay our scene."

The plays of Shakespeare (except for rhymed sections and the occasional song or interlude) are all written in unrhymed or blank verse; and the typical structure of this blank verse is shown[Pg 158] by the second line of the prologue to this play: "In fair Verona, where we set our scene."

This line, it will be seen, consists of ten syllables, with the even syllables (2d, 4th, 6th, 8th, and 10th) accented, the odd syllables (1st, 3d, etc.) being unaccented. Theoretically, it is made up of five feet of two syllables each, with the accent on the second syllable. Such a foot is called an iambus (plural, iambuses, or the Latin iambi), and the form of verse is called iambic.

This line, as you can see, has ten syllables, with the even syllables (2nd, 4th, 6th, 8th, and 10th) stressed, while the odd syllables (1st, 3rd, etc.) are not stressed. In theory, it consists of five feet, each made up of two syllables, with the stress on the second syllable. This type of foot is called an iambus (plural, iambuses, or the Latin iambi), and the style of verse is known as iambic.

This fundamental law of Shakespeare's verse is subject to certain modifications, the most important of which are as follows:—

This fundamental rule of Shakespeare's verse can be modified in some ways, the most significant of which are as follows:—

1. After the tenth syllable an unaccented syllable (or even two such syllables) may be added, forming what is sometimes called a female line; as in the 103d line of the first scene: "Here were the servants of your adversary." The rhythm is complete with the third syllable of adversary, the fourth being an extra eleventh syllable. In iv. 3. 27 and v. 3. 256 we have two extra syllables,—the last two of Romeo in both lines.

1. After the tenth syllable, you can add an unaccented syllable (or even two such syllables), creating what’s sometimes referred to as a female line; like in the 103rd line of the first scene: "Here were the servants of your adversary." The rhythm is complete with the third syllable, and the fourth is an additional eleventh syllable. In iv. 3. 27 and v. 3. 256, we have two extra syllables—the last two of Romeo in both lines.

2. The accent in any part of the verse may be shifted from an even to an odd syllable; as in line 3 of the prologue, "From ancient grudge break to new mutiny," where the accent is shifted from the sixth to the fifth syllable. See also i. 1. 92: "Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate;" where the accent is shifted from the second to the first syllable. This change occurs very rarely in the tenth syllable, and seldom in the fourth; and it is not allowable in two successive accented syllables.

2. The emphasis in any part of the verse can be moved from an even syllable to an odd one; like in line 3 of the prologue, "From ancient grudge break to new mutiny," where the emphasis shifts from the sixth to the fifth syllable. Also see i. 1. 92: "Canker’d with peace, to part your canker’d hate;" where the emphasis shifts from the second to the first syllable. This change happens very rarely in the tenth syllable and is uncommon in the fourth; plus, it's not allowed in two consecutive accented syllables.

3. An extra unaccented syllable may occur in any part of the line; as in line 7 of the prologue, where the second syllable of piteous is superfluous. In i. 1. 64 the third syllable of Benvolio, and in line 71 below the second syllable of Capulets and the second the are both superfluous.

3. An extra unaccented syllable can show up anywhere in the line; like in line 7 of the prologue, where the second syllable of piteous is unnecessary. In i. 1. 64, the third syllable of Benvolio, and in line 71 below, the second syllable of Capulets and the second the are both unnecessary.

4. Any unaccented syllable, occurring in an even place immediately before or after an even syllable which is properly accented, is reckoned as accented for the purposes of the verse; as, for instance, in lines 1, 3, and 7 of the prologue. In 1 the last syllable of dignity[Pg 159] and in 3 the last of mutiny are metrically equivalent to accented syllables. In 7 the same is true of the first syllable of misadventur'd and the third of overthrows. In iv. 2. 18 ("Of disobedient opposition") only two regular accents occur, but we have a metrical accent on the first syllable of disobedient, and on the first and the last syllables of opposition, which word has metrically five syllables. In disobedient there is an extra unaccented syllable.

4. Any unaccented syllable that appears in an even position right before or after a properly accented even syllable is considered accented for the meter of the verse; for example, in lines 1, 3, and 7 of the prologue. In line 1, the last syllable of dignity[Pg 159] and in line 3, the last syllable of mutiny are metrically treated like accented syllables. In line 7, the same applies to the first syllable of misadventur'd and the third syllable of overthrows.. In iv. 2. 18 ("Of disobedient opposition"), there are only two regular accents, but we have a metrical accent on the first syllable of disobedient and on the first and last syllables of opposition, which has five syllables metrically. In disobedient, there is an additional unaccented syllable.

5. In many instances in Shakespeare words must be lengthened in order to fill out the rhythm:—

5. In many cases in Shakespeare, words need to be stretched to complete the rhythm:—

(a) In a large class of words in which e or i is followed by another vowel, the e or i is made a separate syllable; as ocean, opinion, soldier, patience, partial, marriage, etc. For instance, iii. 5. 29 ("Some say the lark makes sweet division") appears to have only nine syllables, but division is a quadrisyllable; and so is devotion in iv. 1. 41: "God shield I should disturb devotion!" Marriage is a trisyllable in iv. 1. 11, and also in v. 3. 241; and the same is true of patience in v. 1. 27 v. 1. 27, v. 3. 221 and 261. This lengthening occurs most frequently at the end of the line.

(a) In a big group of words where e or i is followed by another vowel, the e or i forms a separate syllable; like ocean, opinion, soldier, patience, partial, marriage, etc. For example, iii. 5. 29 ("Some say the lark makes sweet division") seems to have only nine syllables, but division is a four-syllable word; and so is devotion in iv. 1. 41: "God shield I should disturb devotion!" Marriage is a three-syllable word in iv. 1. 11, and also in v. 3. 241; and the same goes for patience in v. 1. 27, v. 3. 221, and 261. This elongation happens most often at the end of the line.

(b) Many monosyllables ending in r, re, rs, res, preceded by a long vowel or diphthong, are often made dissyllables; as fare, fear, dear, fire, hair, hour, your, etc. In iii. 1. 198: "Else, when he's found, that hour is his last," hour is a dissyllable. If the word is repeated in a verse it is often both monosyllable and dissyllable; as in M. of V. iii. 2. 20: "And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so," where either yours (preferably the first) is a dissyllable, the other being a monosyllable. In J.C. iii. 1. 172: "As fire drives fire, so pity, pity," the first fire is a dissyllable.

(b) Many one-syllable words that end in r, re, rs, res, and are preceded by a long vowel or diphthong, are often pronounced as two syllables; such as fare, fear, dear, fire, hair, hour, your, etc. In iii. 1. 198: "Else, when he's found, that hour is his last," hour is pronounced as two syllables. If the word is repeated in a line, it can often be both one-syllable and two-syllable; as in M. of V. iii. 2. 20: "And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so," where either yours (preferably the first) is pronounced as two syllables, while the other is pronounced as one syllable. In J.C. iii. 1. 172: "As fire drives fire, so pity, pity," the first fire is pronounced as two syllables.

(c) Words containing l or r, preceded by another consonant, are often pronounced as if a vowel came between the consonants; as in i. 4. 8: "After the prompter, at our entrance" [ent(e)rance]. See also T. of S. ii. 1. 158: "While she did call me rascal fiddler" [fidd(e)ler]; All's Well, iii. 5. 43: "If you will tarry, holy pilgrim" [pilg(e)rim]; C. of E. v. 1. 360: "These are the parents of these children" (childeren, the original form of the word); W.T. iv.[Pg 160] 4. 76: "Grace and remembrance [rememb(e)rance] be to you both!" etc. See also on ii. 4. 184 and iii. 1. 89 below.

(c) Words that have l or r, when another consonant comes before them, are often said as if there's a vowel between the consonants; for example, i. 4. 8: "After the prompter, at our entrance" [ent(e)rance]. See also T. of S. ii. 1. 158: "While she did call me rascal fiddler" [fidd(e)ler]; All's Well, iii. 5. 43: "If you will tarry, holy pilgrim" [pilg(e)rim]; C. of E. v. 1. 360: "These are the parents of these children" (childeren, the original form of the word); W.T. iv.[Pg 160] 4. 76: "Grace and remembrance [rememb(e)rance] be to you both!" etc. See also on ii. 4. 184 and iii. 1. 89 below.

(d) Monosyllabic exclamations (ay, O, yea, nay, hail, etc.) and monosyllables otherwise emphasized are similarly lengthened; also certain longer words; as commandement in M. of V. iv. 1. 442; safety (trisyllable) in Ham. i. 3. 21; business (trisyllable, as originally pronounced) in J.C. iv. 1. 22: "To groan and sweat under the business" (so in several other passages); and other words mentioned in the notes to the plays in which they occur.

(d) One-syllable exclamations (ay, O, yeah, no, hi, etc.) and one-syllable words that are emphasized are also stretched out; along with some longer words; like commandment in M. of V. iv. 1. 442; safety (three syllables) in Ham. i. 3. 21; business (three syllables, as originally pronounced) in J.C. iv. 1. 22: "To groan and sweat under the business" (similarly in several other passages); and other words noted in the commentary for the plays where they appear.

6. Words are also contracted for metrical reasons, like plurals and possessives ending in a sibilant, as balance, horse (for horses and horse's), princess, sense, marriage (plural and possessive), image, etc. So spirit, inter'gatories, unpleasant'st, and other words mentioned in the notes on the plays.

6. Words are also shortened for metrical reasons, like plurals and possessives ending in a sibilant, such as balance, horse (for horses and horse's), princess, sense, marriage (plural and possessive), image, etc. So spirit, inter'gatories, unpleasant'st, and other words mentioned in the notes on the plays.

7. The accent of words is also varied in many instances for metrical reasons. Thus we find both révenue and revénue in the first scene of the M.N.D. (lines 6 and 158), óbscure and obscúre, púrsue and pursúe, cóntrary (see note on iii. 2. 64) and contráry, contráct (see on ii. 2. 117) and cóntract, etc.

7. The accent of words is often changed for metrical reasons. For example, we see both révenue and revénue in the first scene of the M.N.D. (lines 6 and 158), óbscure and obscúre, púrsue and pursúe, cóntrary (see note on iii. 2. 64) and contráry, contráct (see on ii. 2. 117) and cóntract, etc.

These instances of variable accent must not be confounded with those in which words were uniformly accented differently in the time of Shakespeare; like aspéct, impórtune (see on i. 1. 142), perséver (never persevére), perséverance, rheúmatic, etc.

These cases of changing accent should not be confused with those where words had a consistently different accent during Shakespeare's time; like aspéct, impórtune (see on i. 1. 142), perséver (never persevére), perséverance, rheúmatic, etc.

8. Alexandrines, or verses of twelve syllables, with six accents, occur here and there; as in the inscriptions on the caskets in M. of V., and occasionally in this play. They must not be confounded with female lines with two extra syllables (see on 1 above) or with other lines in which two extra unaccented syllables may occur.

8. Alexandrines, which are lines with twelve syllables and six beats, appear here and there, like in the inscriptions on the boxes in M. of V., and sometimes in this play. They shouldn't be mixed up with feminine lines that have two extra syllables (see above) or with other lines that may have two additional unstressed syllables.

9. Incomplete verses, of one or more syllables, are scattered through the plays. See i. 1. 61, 69, 162, 163, 164, 198, etc.

9. Incomplete verses, with one or more syllables, are scattered throughout the plays. See i. 1. 61, 69, 162, 163, 164, 198, etc.

10. Doggerel measure is used in the very earliest comedies (L. L. L. and C. of E. in particular) in the mouths of comic characters, but nowhere else in those plays, and never anywhere after 1597 or 1598. There is no instance of it in this play.

10. Doggerel is used in the earliest comedies (L. L. L. and C. of E. specifically) by comic characters, but it's not used anywhere else in those plays, nor after 1597 or 1598. There's no example of it in this play.

11. Rhyme occurs frequently in the early plays, but diminishes with comparative regularity from that period until the latest. Thus, in L. L. L. there are about 1100 rhyming verses (about one-third of the whole number), in the M.N.D. about 900, and in Rich. II. about 500, while in Cor. and A. and C. there are only about 40 each, in the Temp. only two, and in the W.T. none at all, except in the chorus introducing act iv. Songs, interludes, and other matter not in ten-syllable measure are not included in this enumeration. In the present play, out of about 2500 ten-syllable verses, nearly 500 are in rhyme.

11. Rhyme appears often in the early plays but gradually decreases from that time to the later works. For example, in L. L. L., there are around 1100 rhyming verses (about one-third of the total), in M.N.D. there are about 900, and in Rich. II. there are about 500. In contrast, Cor. and A. and C. have only about 40 each, Temp. has just two, and W.T. has none, except for the chorus at the beginning of act iv. Songs, interludes, and other elements not in ten-syllable lines aren’t counted in this total. In the current play, out of roughly 2500 ten-syllable verses, nearly 500 are rhymed.

Alternate rhymes are found only in the plays written before 1599 or 1600. In the M. of V. there are only four lines at the end of iii. 2. In Much Ado and A.Y.L., we also find a few lines, but none at all in subsequent plays. Examples in this play are the prologue, the chorus at the beginning of act ii., and the last speech of act. v. See also passages in i. 2, i. 5, and v. 3.

Alternate rhymes are found only in the plays written before 1599 or 1600. In the M. of V., there are only four lines at the end of iii. 2. In Much Ado and A.Y.L., we also see a few lines, but none at all in later plays. Examples in this play include the prologue, the chorus at the beginning of act ii., and the last speech of act v. See also passages in i. 2, i. 5, and v. 3.

Rhymed couplets or "rhyme-tags" are often found at the end of scenes; as in the first scene, and eleven other scenes, of the present play. In Ham. 14 out of 20 scenes, and in Macb. 21 out of 28, have such "tags"; but in the latest plays they are not so frequent. The Temp., for instance, has but one, and the W.T. none.

Rhymed couplets or "rhyme-tags" are commonly found at the end of scenes, like in the first scene and eleven other scenes of this play. In Ham., 14 out of 20 scenes include these "tags," and in Macb., 21 out of 28 do as well; however, in the more recent plays, they're not as common. For example, Temp has only one, and W.T. has none.

12. In this edition of Shakespeare, the final -ed of past tenses and participles is printed -'d when the word is to be pronounced in the ordinary way; as in star-cross'd, line 6, and misadventur'd, line 7, of the prologue. But when the metre requires that the -ed be made a separate syllable, the e is retained; as in moved, line 85, of the first scene, where the word is a dissyllable. The only variation from this rule is in verbs like cry, die, sue, etc., the -ed of which is very rarely made a separate syllable.

12. In this edition of Shakespeare, the final -ed of past tenses and participles is shown as -'d when the word is pronounced normally; as in star-cross'd, line 6, and misadventur'd, line 7, of the prologue. However, when the meter requires that the -ed be pronounced as a separate syllable, the e is kept; as in moved, line 85, of the first scene, where the word has two syllables. The only exception to this rule is in verbs like cry, die, sue, etc., where the -ed is seldom treated as a separate syllable.

Shakespeare's Use of Verse and Prose in the Plays.—This is a subject to which the critics have given very little attention, but it is an interesting study. In this play we find scenes entirely in verse (none entirely in prose) and others in which the two are mixed. In general, we may say that verse is used for what[Pg 162] is distinctly poetical, and prose for what is not poetical. The distinction, however, is not so clearly marked in the earlier as in the later plays. The second scene of the M. of V., for instance, is in prose, because Portia and Nerissa are talking about the suitors in a familiar and playful way; but in the T.G. of V., where Julia and Lucetta are discussing the suitors of the former in much the same fashion, the scene is in verse. Dowden, commenting on Rich. II., remarks: "Had Shakespeare written the play a few years later, we may be certain that the gardener and his servants (iii. 4) would not have uttered stately speeches in verse, but would have spoken homely prose, and that humour would have mingled with the pathos of the scene. The same remark may be made with reference to the subsequent scene (v. 5) in which his groom visits the dethroned king in the Tower." Comic characters and those in low life generally speak in prose in the later plays, as Dowden intimates, but in the very earliest ones doggerel verse is much used instead. See on 10 above.

Shakespeare's Use of Verse and Prose in His Plays.—This is a topic that critics haven’t explored much, but it’s an interesting area of study. In this play, we find scenes that are entirely in verse (none are entirely in prose) and others where both are blended. Generally, we can say that verse is used for what is distinctly poetic, and prose is used for what isn’t. However, the distinction isn’t as clear in the earlier plays as it is in the later ones. For example, the second scene of the M. of V. is in prose because Portia and Nerissa are chatting about the suitors in a casual and playful manner; but in the T.G. of V., where Julia and Lucetta discuss the suitors similarly, the scene is in verse. Dowden, while commenting on Rich. II., notes: "If Shakespeare had written the play a few years later, we can be sure that the gardener and his workers (iii. 4) wouldn't have delivered formal speeches in verse, but would have spoken ordinary prose, with humor mingling with the pathos of the scene. The same observation can be made about the following scene (v. 5) where his groom visits the dethroned king in the Tower." Comic characters and those from lower social classes generally speak in prose in the later plays, as Dowden suggests, but in the very early ones, crude verse is used instead. See on 10 above.

The change from prose to verse is well illustrated in the third scene of the M. of V. It begins with plain prosaic talk about a business matter; but when Antonio enters, it rises at once to the higher level of poetry. The sight of Antonio reminds Shylock of his hatred of the Merchant, and the passion expresses itself in verse, the vernacular tongue of poetry. We have a similar change in the first scene of J.C., where, after the quibbling "chaff" of the mechanics about their trades, the mention of Pompey reminds the Tribune of their plebeian fickleness, and his scorn and indignation flame out in most eloquent verse.

The switch from prose to verse is clearly shown in the third scene of the M. of V. It starts with straightforward, business-like conversation, but as soon as Antonio enters, the language lifts to a poetic level. Seeing Antonio sparks Shylock's hatred for the Merchant, and that intense feeling comes out in verse, the natural form of poetry. We see a similar shift in the first scene of J.C., where, after the trivial "chaff" of the workers discussing their trades, the mention of Pompey brings the Tribune's thoughts to their common fickleness, and his scorn and anger burst forth in beautifully eloquent verse.

The reasons for the choice of prose or verse are not always so clear as in these instances. We are seldom puzzled to explain the prose, but not unfrequently we meet with verse where we might expect prose. As Professor Corson remarks (Introduction to Shakespeare, 1889), "Shakespeare adopted verse as the general tenor of his language, and therefore expressed much in verse that is within the capabilities of prose; in other words, his verse constantly[Pg 163] encroaches upon the domain of prose, but his prose can never be said to encroach upon the domain of verse." If in rare instances we think we find exceptions to this latter statement, and prose actually seems to usurp the place of verse, I believe that careful study of the passage will prove the supposed exception to be apparent rather than real.

The reasons for choosing prose or verse aren’t always as clear-cut as in these examples. We rarely struggle to explain prose, but it’s not uncommon to come across verse where we would expect prose. As Professor Corson notes (Introduction to Shakespeare, 1889), "Shakespeare used verse as the primary form of his language, which is why he often expressed ideas in verse that could be conveyed in prose; in other words, his verse frequently overlaps with prose, but his prose never overlaps with verse." If we occasionally think we find exceptions to this idea, where prose seems to take the place of verse, I believe that careful examination of the passage will show that these exceptions are more apparent than real.

Some Books for Teachers and Students.—A few out of the many books that might be commended to the teacher and the critical student are the following: Halliwell-Phillipps's Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare (7th ed. 1887); Sidney Lee's Life of Shakespeare (1898; for ordinary students the abridged ed. of 1899 is preferable); Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon (3d ed. 1902); Littledale's ed. of Dyce's Glossary (1902); Bartlett's Concordance to Shakespeare (1895); Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (1873); Furness's "New Variorum" ed. of Romeo and Juliet (1871; encyclopædic and exhaustive); Dowden's Shakspere: His Mind and Art (American ed. 1881); Hudson's Life, Art, and Characters of Shakespeare (revised ed. 1882); Mrs. Jameson's Characteristics of Women (several eds., some with the title, Shakespeare Heroines); Ten Brink's Five Lectures on Shakespeare (1895); Boas's Shakespeare and His Predecessors (1895); Dyer's Folk-lore of Shakespeare (American ed. 1884); Gervinus's Shakespeare Commentaries (Bunnett's translation, 1875); Wordsworth's Shakespeare's Knowledge of the Bible (3d ed. 1880); Elson's Shakespeare in Music (1901).

Books for Teachers and Students.—Here are a few out of the many books that are recommended for teachers and critical students: Halliwell-Phillipps's Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare (7th ed. 1887); Sidney Lee's Life of Shakespeare (1898; the abridged edition from 1899 is better for regular students); Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon (3rd ed. 1902); Littledale's edition of Dyce's Glossary (1902); Bartlett's Concordance to Shakespeare (1895); Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (1873); Furness's "New Variorum" edition of Romeo and Juliet (1871; very comprehensive); Dowden's Shakspere: His Mind and Art (American ed. 1881); Hudson's Life, Art, and Characters of Shakespeare (revised ed. 1882); Mrs. Jameson's Characteristics of Women (multiple editions, some titled Shakespeare Heroines); Ten Brink's Five Lectures on Shakespeare (1895); Boas's Shakespeare and His Predecessors (1895); Dyer's Folk-lore of Shakespeare (American ed. 1884); Gervinus's Shakespeare Commentaries (translated by Bunnett, 1875); Wordsworth's Shakespeare's Knowledge of the Bible (3rd ed. 1880); Elson's Shakespeare in Music (1901).

Some of the above books will be useful to all readers who are interested in special subjects or in general criticism of Shakespeare. Among those which are better suited to the needs of ordinary readers and students, the following may be mentioned: Mabie's William Shakespeare: Poet, Dramatist, and Man (1900); Phin's Cyclopædia and Glossary of Shakespeare (1902; more compact and cheaper than Dyce); Dowden's Shakspere Primer (1877; small but invaluable); Rolfe's Shakespeare the Boy (1896; treating of the home and school life, the games and sports, the manners, customs,[Pg 164] and folk-lore of the poet's time); Guerber's Myths of Greece and Rome (for young students who may need information on mythological allusions not explained in the notes).

Some of the books mentioned above will be helpful for anyone interested in specific topics or in general analysis of Shakespeare. Among those that are more suitable for regular readers and students, the following can be pointed out: Mabie's William Shakespeare: Poet, Dramatist, and Man (1900); Phin's Cyclopædia and Glossary of Shakespeare (1902; more concise and affordable than Dyce); Dowden's Shakspere Primer (1877; small but extremely useful); Rolfe's Shakespeare the Boy (1896; focusing on the home and school life, games and sports, the manners, customs,[Pg 164] and folklore of the poet's era); Guerber's Myths of Greece and Rome (for young students who may need information on mythological references not covered in the notes).

Black's Judith Shakespeare (1884; a novel, but a careful study of the scene and the time) is a book that I always commend to young people, and their elders will also enjoy it. The Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare is a classic for beginners in the study of the dramatist; and in Rolfe's ed. the plan of the authors is carried out in the Notes by copious illustrative quotations from the plays. Mrs. Cowden-Clarke's Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines (several eds.) will particularly interest girls; and both girls and boys will find Bennett's Master Skylark (1897) and Imogen Clark's Will Shakespeare's Little Lad (1897) equally entertaining and instructive.

Black's Judith Shakespeare (1884; a novel, but a detailed exploration of the setting and the era) is a book that I always recommend to young people, and their parents will enjoy it too. The Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare is a classic for those starting to study the playwright; in Rolfe's edition, the authors' approach is reflected in the notes with plenty of quotes from the plays for illustration. Mrs. Cowden-Clarke's Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines (multiple editions) will be particularly of interest to girls; and both girls and boys will find Bennett's Master Skylark (1897) and Imogen Clark's Will Shakespeare's Little Lad (1897) equally entertaining and enlightening.

H. Snowden Ward's Shakespeare's Town and Times (2d ed. 1903) and John Leyland's Shakespeare Country (enlarged ed. 1903) are copiously illustrated books (yet inexpensive) which may be particularly commended for school libraries.

H. Snowden Ward's Shakespeare's Town and Times (2d ed. 1903) and John Leyland's Shakespeare Country (enlarged ed. 1903) are well-illustrated books (yet affordable) that are especially recommended for school libraries.

Abbreviations in the Notes.—The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's plays will be readily understood; as T.N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth, etc. P.P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim; V. and A. to Venus and Adonis; L.C. to Lover's Complaint; and Sonn. to the Sonnets.

Abbreviations in the notes.—The abbreviations for Shakespeare's plays should be easy to recognize; for example, T.N. stands for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth, and so on. P.P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim; V. and A. refers to Venus and Adonis; L.C. stands for Lover's Complaint; and Sonn. refers to the Sonnets.

Other abbreviations that hardly need explanation are Cf. (confer, compare), Fol. (following), Id. (idem, the same), and Prol. (prologue). The numbers of the lines in the references (except for the present play) are those of the "Globe" edition (the cheapest and best edition of Shakespeare in one compact volume), which is now generally accepted as the standard for line-numbers in works of reference (Schmidt's Lexicon, Abbott's Grammar, Dowden's Primer, the publications of the New Shakspere Society, etc.). Every teacher and every critical student should have it at hand for reference.

Other abbreviations that hardly need explanation are Cf. (confer, compare), Fol. (following), Id. (idem, the same), and Prol. (prologue). The line numbers in the references (except for the current play) are from the "Globe" edition (the most affordable and best edition of Shakespeare in one compact volume), which is now widely accepted as the standard for line numbers in reference works (Schmidt's Lexicon, Abbott's Grammar, Dowden's Primer, the publications of the New Shakspere Society, etc.). Every teacher and critical student should keep it handy for reference.


PROLOGUE

Enter Chorus. As Malone suggests, this probably meant only that the prologue was to be spoken by the same actor that personated the chorus at the end of act i. The prologue is omitted in the folio, but we cannot doubt that it was written by S. It is in form a sonnet, of the pattern adopted in his Sonnets. See comments upon it, p. 22 above.

Enter Chorus. As Malone points out, this likely just meant that the prologue was to be delivered by the same actor who played the chorus at the end of Act I. The folio leaves out the prologue, but we can’t doubt that it was written by S. It’s structured as a sonnet, following the style used in his Sonnets. See comments on it, p. 22 above.

2. Fair Verona. The city is thus described in the opening lines of Brooke's poem:[4]

2. Fair Verona. The city is described in the opening lines of Brooke's poem:[4]

"There is beyonde the Alps, a towne of auncient fame
Whose bright renoune yet shineth cleare, Verona men it name:
Bylt in an happy time, bylt on a fertile soyle:
Maynteined by the heauenly fates, and by the townish toyle.
The fruitefull hilles aboue, the pleasant vales belowe,
The siluer streame with chanell depe, that through the towne doth flow:
The store of springes that serue for vse, and eke for ease:
And other moe commodities, which profite may and please;
Eke many certaine signes of thinges betyde of olde,
To fyll the houngry eyes of those that curiously beholde:
Doe make this towne to be preferde aboue the rest
Of Lumbard townes, or at the least compared with the best."

6. Star-cross'd. For the astrological allusion, cf. i. 4. 104, v. 1. 24, and v. 3. 111 below. The title of one of Richard Braithwaite's works, published in 1615, is "Love's Labyrinth: or the True Lover's Knot, including the disastrous falls of two Star-crost lovers Pyramus and Thisbe."

6. Star-cross'd. For the astrological reference, see i. 4. 104, v. 1. 24, and v. 3. 111 below. The title of one of Richard Braithwaite's works, published in 1615, is "Love's Labyrinth: or the True Lover's Knot, which includes the tragic falls of two star-crossed lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe."

8. Doth. The reading of the quartos, changed by most of the modern editors to "Do." Ulrici considers it the old third person plural in -th. He adds that S. mostly uses it only where it has the [Pg 166]force of the singular, namely, where the sense is collective, as in overthrows here. Cf. v. 1. 70 below.

8. Doth. The reading of the quartos, updated by most modern editors to "Do." Ulrici believes it reflects the old third person plural in -th. He also mentions that S. usually uses it only where it takes on the meaning of the singular, specifically where the context is collective, like in overthrows here. See v. 1. 70 below.

12. Two hours. Cf. Hen. VIII. prol. 13: "may see away their shilling Richly in two short hours."

12. Two hours. Cf. Hen. VIII. prol. 13: "can spend their shilling lavishly in just two short hours."


ACT I

Act I.

1. Carry coals. "Endure affronts" (Johnson). According to Nares, the phrase got this meaning from the fact that the carriers of wood and coals were esteemed the very lowest of menials. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 2. 49, where there is a play upon the expression. Steevens quotes Nash, Have With You, etc.: "We will bear no coles, I warrant you;" Marston, Antonio and Mellida, part ii.: "He has had wrongs; and if I were he I would bear no coles," etc. Dyce cites Cotgrave, Fr. Dict.: "Il a du feu en la teste. Hee is very chollericke, furious, or couragious; he will carrie no coales." He might have added from Sherwood's English-French supplement to Cotgrave (ed. 1632): "That will carrie no coales, Brave."

1. Carry coals. "Endure insults" (Johnson). According to Nares, this phrase means what it does because wood and coal carriers were considered the lowest of the low. See Hen. V. iii. 2. 49, where there's a play on the expression. Steevens quotes Nash, Have With You, and others: "We won’t put up with any nonsense, I promise you;" Marston, Antonio and Mellida, part ii.: "He’s been wronged; if I were him, I wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense," etc. Dyce refers to Cotgrave, Fr. Dict.: "Il a du feu en la teste. He is very hot-headed, furious, or brave; he won’t put up with any nonsense." He could have added from Sherwood's English-French supplement to Cotgrave (ed. 1632): "That won’t put up with any nonsense, Brave."

3. Colliers. The preceding note explains how colliers came to be a term of abuse. The New Eng. Dict. adds that it may have been due to "the evil repute of the collier for cheating." Steevens compares T.N. iii. 4. 130: "hang him, foul collier!"

3. Colliers. The earlier note clarifies how colliers became a term of insult. The New Eng. Dict. points out that it might have stemmed from "the bad reputation of the collier for cheating." Steevens compares this to T.N. iii. 4. 130: "hang him, foul collier!"

4. Choler. For the play upon the word, cf. Jonson, Every Man in his Humour, iii. 2:—

4. Choler. For the wordplay, see Jonson, Every Man in his Humour, iii. 2:—

"Cash. Why, how now, Cob? what moves thee to this cholar, ha?

"Cash. Hey, what's going on, Cob? What are you doing here at this scholar's place?"

Cob. Collar, master Thomas? I scorn your collar, I sir; I am none of your cart-horse, though I carry and draw water."

Cob. Collar, Master Thomas? I won't accept your collar, sir; I'm not your workhorse, even if I do carry and fetch water."

15. Take the wall. Claim the right of passing next the wall when meeting a person on the street; a right valued in old-fashioned streets with narrow sidewalks or none at all. To give the wall was an act of courtesy; to take the wall might be an insult.

15. Take the wall. Claim the right to walk along the wall when you meet someone on the street; a right that was important in old-fashioned streets with narrow sidewalks or none at all. To give the wall was a polite gesture; to take the wall could be seen as an insult.

17. The weakest goes to the wall. A familiar proverb.

A well-known saying.

28. Here comes two, etc. Halliwell-Phillipps remarks that the partisans of the Montagues wore a token in their hats to distinguish them from the Capulets; hence throughout the play they are known at a distance. Cf. Gascoigne, Devise of a Masque, written for Viscount Montacute, 1575:—

28. Here comes two, etc. Halliwell-Phillipps notes that the supporters of the Montagues wore a symbol in their hats to set themselves apart from the Capulets; therefore, throughout the play, they can be recognized from afar. See Gascoigne, Devise of a Masque, written for Viscount Montacute, 1575:—

"And for a further proofe, he shewed in hys hat
Thys token which the Mountacutes did beare alwaies, for that
They covet to be knowne from Capels, where they pass,
For ancient grutch whych long ago 'tweene these two houses was."

39. I will bite my thumb at them. An insult explained by Cotgrave, Fr. Dict. (ed. 1632): "Nique, faire la nique, to threaten or defie, by putting the thumbe naile into the mouth, and with a ierke (from th' upper teeth) make it to knocke."

39. I will bite my thumb at them. An insult explained by Cotgrave, Fr. Dict. (ed. 1632): "Nique, faire la nique, to threaten or defy, by putting the thumbnail into the mouth, and with a jerk (from the upper teeth) make it knock."

44. Of our side. On our side (on = of, as often).

44. Of our side. On our side (on = of, as often).

55. Here comes one, etc. "Gregory may mean Tybalt, who enters directly after Benvolio, but on a different part of the stage. The eyes of the servant may be directed the way he sees Tybalt coming, and in the mean time Benvolio enters on the opposite side" (Steevens).

55. Here comes one, etc. "Gregory might mean Tybalt, who comes in right after Benvolio, but on a different side of the stage. The servant could be looking in the direction he sees Tybalt coming from, while at the same time, Benvolio enters from the other side" (Steevens).

60. Swashing blow. A dashing or smashing blow (Schmidt). Cf. Jonson, Staple of News, v. 1: "I do confess a swashing blow." Cf. also swash = bully, bluster; as in A.Y.L. i. 3. 122: "I'll have a martial and a swashing outside."

60. Swashing blow. A striking or impressive hit (Schmidt). Compare with Jonson, Staple of News, v. 1: "I admit it's a bold strike." Also see swash = show off, brag; as in A.Y.L. i. 3. 122: "I'll have a bold and showy entrance."

63. Art thou drawn? Cf. Temp. ii. 1. 308: "Why are you drawn?" Heartless = cowardly, spiritless; as in R. of L. 471, 1392.

63. Art thou drawn? See Temp. ii. 1. 308: "Why are you being pulled in?" Heartless = cowardly, lacking spirit; as in R. of L. 471, 1392.

69. Have at thee. Cf. iv. 5. 119 below; also C. of E. iii. 1. 51, etc.

69. Have at thee. See iv. 5. 119 below; also C. of E. iii. 1. 51, etc.

70. Clubs. The cry of Clubs! in a street affray is of English origin, as the bite my thumb is of Italian. It was the rallying-cry of the London apprentices. Cf. Hen. VIII. v. 4. 53, A.Y.L. v. 2. 44, etc. Bills were the pikes or halberds formerly carried by the English infantry and afterwards by watchmen. The partisan was "a sharp two-edged sword placed on the summit of a staff for the[Pg 168] defence of foot-soldiers against cavalry" (Fairholt). Cf. Ham. i. 1. 140: "Shall I strike at it with my partisan?"

70. Clubs. The shout of Clubs! in a street brawl comes from England, just like bite my thumb comes from Italy. It was the call to action for the London apprentices. See Hen. VIII. v. 4. 53, A.Y.L. v. 2. 44, etc. Bills were the pikes or halberds that English soldiers used to carry and later, watchmen. The partisan was "a sharp two-edged sword mounted on the end of a staff to protect foot soldiers from cavalry" (Fairholt). See Ham. i. 1. 140: "Should I strike at it with my partisan?"

71. Enter Capulet in his gown. Cf. Ham. (quarto) iii. 4. 61: "Enter the ghost in his night gowne;" that is, his dressing-gown. See also Macb. ii. 2. 70: "Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us And show us to be watchers;" and Id. v. 1. 5: "I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her," etc. It is early morning, and Capulet comes out before he is dressed.

71. Enter Capulet in his gown. See Ham. (quarto) iii. 4. 61: "The ghost enters in his nightgown;" meaning his dressing gown. Also see Macb. ii. 2. 70: "Put on your nightgown, in case something happens and we appear to be on watch;" and Id. v. 1. 5: "I've seen her get out of bed and put on her nightgown," etc. It’s early morning, and Capulet comes out before he’s dressed.

72. Long sword. The weapon used in active warfare; a lighter and shorter one being worn for ornament (see A.W. ii. 1. 32: "no sword worn But one to dance with"). Cf. M.W. ii. 1. 236: "with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats."

72. Long sword. The weapon used in active combat; a smaller and lighter version is worn for decoration (see A.W. ii. 1. 32: "no sword worn But one to dance with"). Compare M.W. ii. 1. 236: "with my long sword I would have made you four tall guys skip like rats."

73. A crutch, a crutch! The lady's sneer at her aged husband. For her own age, see on i. 3. 51 below.

73. A crutch, a crutch! The woman's mocking expression towards her elderly husband. For her own age, see on i. 3. 51 below.

75. In spite. In scornful defiance. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 3. 158, Cymb. iv. 1. 16, etc.

75. In spite. In contemptuous defiance. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 3. 158, Cymb. iv. 1. 16, etc.

79. Neighbour-stained. Because used in civil strife.

79. Neighbour-stained. Because it's used in civil conflicts.

84. Mistemper'd. Tempered to an ill end (Schmidt). Steevens explains it as = angry. The word occurs again in K. John, v. 1. 12: "This inundation of mistemper'd humour."

84. Mistemper'd. Adjusted to a bad outcome (Schmidt). Steevens explains it as = angry. The word appears again in K. John, v. 1. 12: "This flood of bad temper."

85. Moved. That is, "mov'd to wrath" (T.A. i. 1. 419). Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 694, J.C. iv. 3. 58, etc.

85. Moved. That is, "moved to anger" (T.A. i. 1. 419). See also L. L. L. v. 2. 694, J.C. iv. 3. 58, etc.

89. Ancient. Not of necessity old in years, but long settled there and accustomed to peace and order (Delius).

89. Ancient. Not necessarily old in years, but well-established and used to a life of peace and order (Delius).

90. Grave beseeming. Grave and becoming. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 79:—

90. Grave beseeming. Serious and appealing. See Ham. iv. 7. 79:—

"for youth no less becomes
The light and careless livery that it wears,
Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
Importing health and graveness."

92. Canker'd with peace, etc. Canker'd (= corroded) is applied literally to the partisans long disused, and figuratively to their owners. Cf. K. John, ii. 1. 194: "A canker'd grandam's will."

92. Canker'd with peace, etc. Canker'd (meaning corroded) is used literally to describe the long-neglected partisans and figuratively to refer to their owners. See K. John, ii. 1. 194: "A cankered grandmother's will."

99. Freetown. S. takes the name from Brooke's poem. It translates the Villa Franca of the Italian story.

99. Freetown. S. takes the name from Brooke's poem. It translates the Villa Franca from the Italian story.

101. S. uses set abroach only in a bad sense. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 14: "Alack, what mischiefs might be set abroach;" and Rich. III. i. 3. 325: "The secret mischiefs that I set abroach."

101. S. uses set abroach only in a negative way. See 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 14: "Oh no, what troubles could be unleashed;" and Rich. III. i. 3. 325: "The hidden troubles that I unleashed."

109. Nothing hurt withal. Nowise harmed by it. Who = which; as often.

109. Nothing hurt withal. Not affected by it. Who = which; as often.

110. While we, etc. This line, with the change of we to they, is found in the 1st quarto in iii. 1, where Benvolio describes the brawl in which Mercutio and Tybalt are slain (Daniel).

110. While we, etc. This line, with the switch from we to they, appears in the first quarto in iii. 1, where Benvolio talks about the fight in which Mercutio and Tybalt are killed (Daniel).

113. Saw you him to-day? This use of the past tense is not allowable now, but was common in Elizabethan English. Cf. Cymb. iv. 2. 66: "I saw him not these many years," etc.

113. Saw you him to-day? Using the past tense this way isn't acceptable anymore, but it was common in Elizabethan English. See Cymb. iv. 2. 66: "I haven't seen him in many years," etc.

115. The worshipp'd sun. Cf. iii. 2. 25 below: "And pay no worship to the garish sun." See also Lear, i. 1. 111: "the sacred radiance of the sun;" and Cymb. iv. 4. 41: "the holy sun." It is remarkable that no German commentator has tried to make S. a Parsee.

115. The worshipp'd sun. See iii. 2. 25 below: "And pay no worship to the glaring sun." Also look at Lear, i. 1. 111: "the sacred light of the sun;" and Cymb. iv. 4. 41: "the holy sun." It's interesting that no German commentator has attempted to interpret S. as a Parsee.

116. Forth. Cf. M.N.D. i. 1. 164: "Steal forth thy father's house," etc.

116. Forth. See M.N.D. i. 1. 164: "Sneak out of your father's house," etc.

118. Sycamore. According to Beisly and Ellacombe, the Acer pseudo-platanus, which grows wild in Italy. It had been introduced into England before the time of S. He mentions it also in L. L. L. v. 2. 89 and Oth. iv. 3. 41.

118. Sycamore. According to Beisly and Ellacombe, the Acer pseudo-platanus grows wild in Italy. It was brought to England before the time of S. He also mentions it in L. L. L. v. 2. 89 and Oth. iv. 3. 41.

119. Rooteth. Cf. W.T. i. 1. 25: "there rooted betwixt them such an affection," etc.

119. Rooteth. See W.T. i. 1. 25: "there was such a bond between them," etc.

121. Ware. Aware; but not to be printed as a contraction of that word. Cf. ii. 2. 103 below.

121. Ware. Aware; but not to be printed as a shortened form of that word. See ii. 2. 103 below.

123. Affections. Feelings, inclinations. Cf. Ham. iii. 1. 170: "Love! his affections do not that way tend," etc.

123. Affections. Emotions, desires. See Ham. iii. 1. 170: "Love! his feelings don't go in that direction," etc.

124. Which then, etc. "The plain meaning seems to be that Benvolio, like Romeo, was indisposed for society, and sought to be most where most people were not to be found, being one too many,[Pg 170] even when by himself" (Collier). Some editors follow Pope in reading (from 1st quarto) "That most are busied when they're most alone."

124. Which then, etc. "The straightforward meaning seems to be that Benvolio, like Romeo, wasn't really up for socializing and preferred to be where most people weren't, feeling like he was one too many,[Pg 170] even when he was by himself" (Collier). Some editors, like Pope, interpret it from the 1st quarto as "That most are busy when they're most alone."

127. Who. Him who; the antecedent omitted, as often when it is easily supplied.

127. Who. The one who; the subject is left out, as is common when it's easy to fill in.

131. All so soon. All is often used in this "intensive" way.

131. All so soon. All is frequently used in this "intensive" manner.

134. Heavy. S. is fond of playing on heavy and light. Cf. R. of L. 1574, T.G. of V. i. 2. 84, M. of V. v. 1. 130, etc.

134. Heavy. S. enjoys playing on heavy and light. Cf. R. of L. 1574, T.G. of V. i. 2. 84, M. of V. v. 1. 130, etc.

142. Importun'd. Accented on the second syllable, as regularly in S.

142. Importun'd. Emphasized on the second syllable, as usual in S.

148. With. By; as often of the agent or cause.

148. With. By; just as frequently as of the agent or cause.

150. Sun. The early eds. all have "same." The emendation is due to Theobald and is almost universally adopted.

150. Sun. All the early editions say "same." The change was made by Theobald and is almost universally accepted.

156. To hear. As to hear; a common ellipsis.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ As to hear; a common ellipsis.

157. Is the day so young? Is it not yet noon? Good morrow or good day was considered proper only before noon, after which good den was the usual salutation. Cf. i. 2. 57 below.

157. Is the day so young? Is it not noon yet? Good morning or good day were considered appropriate only before noon, after which good evening was the usual greeting. Cf. i. 2. 57 below.

158. New. Often used by S. in this adverbial way = just, lately. Cf. v. 3. 197 below. For Ay me! see on ii. 1. 10.

158. New. Commonly used by S. in this adverbial sense = just, recently. Compare v. 3. 197 below. For Ay me! refer to ii. 1. 10.

166. In his view. In appearance; opposed to proof = experience. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 179: "What my love is, proof hath made you know," etc.

166. In his view. In terms of looks; contrasted with proof = experience. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 179: "What my love is, proof has shown you," etc.

168. Alas, that love, whose view, etc. Alas "that love, though blindfolded, should see how to reach the lover's heart" (Dowden). View here = sight, or eyes.

168. Alas, that love, whose view, etc. Unfortunately, "that love, though blindfolded, should know how to find the lover's heart" (Dowden). View here = sight, or eyes.

172. Here's much, etc. Romeo means that the fray has much to do with the hate between the rival houses, yet affects him more, inasmuch as his Rosaline is of the Capulet family.

172. Here's much, etc. Romeo suggests that the conflict is deeply tied to the hatred between the two feuding families, but it impacts him even more because his love, Rosaline, is from the Capulet family.

173-178. O brawling love! etc. Cf. iii. 2. 73 fol. below.

173-178. O brawling love! etc. See iii. 2. 73 and following sections below.

187. Rais'd. The reading of the 1st quarto, adopted by the majority of editors. The other early eds. have "made."

187. Rais'd. The version from the first quarto, which most editors choose to use. The other early editions say "made."

188. Purg'd. That is, from smoke.

From smoke.

191. A choking gall, etc. That is, "love kills and keeps alive, is a bane and an antidote" (Dowden).

191. A choking gall, etc. In other words, "love can both destroy and sustain, is a curse and a cure" (Dowden).

195. Some other where. Cf. C. of E. iv. 1. 30: "How if your husband start some other where?"

195. Some other where. Cf. C. of E. iv. 1. 30: "What if your husband begins elsewhere?"

196. Sadness. Seriousness. Cf. A.W. iv. 3. 230: "In good sadness, I do not know," etc. So sadly just below = seriously, as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 229.

196. Sadness. Seriousness. See A.W. iv. 3. 230: "Honestly, I don't know," etc. So sadly just below = seriously, as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 229.

203. Mark-man. The 3d and 4th folios have "marks-man." S. uses the word nowhere else.

203. Mark-man. The 3rd and 4th folios have "marks-man." S. does not use the word anywhere else.

206. Dian's wit. Her way of thinking, her sentiments. S. has many allusions to Diana's chastity, and also to her connection with the moon.

206. Dian's wit. Her mindset, her feelings. S. makes many references to Diana's purity, as well as her link to the moon.

207. Proof. Used technically of armour. Cf. Rich. II. i. 3. 73: "Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;" Ham. ii. 2. 512: "Mars's armour forg'd for proof eterne," etc.

207. Proof. Used in a technical sense regarding armor. See Rich. II. i. 3. 73: "Add strength to my armor with your prayers;" Ham. ii. 2. 512: "Mars's armor forged for eternal protection," etc.

209. The siege, etc. Cf. V. and A. 423:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See V. and A. 423:—

"Remove your siege from my unyielding heart;
To love's alarm it will not ope the gate."

See also R. of L. 221, A.W. iii. 7. 18, Cymb. iii. 4. 137, etc.

See also R. of L. 221, A.W. iii. 7. 18, Cymb. iii. 4. 137, etc.

213. That when she dies, etc. "She is rich in beauty, and only poor in being subject to the lot of humanity, that her store, or riches, can be destroyed by death, who shall, by the same blow, put an end to beauty" (Johnson); or, as Mason puts it, "she is poor because she leaves no part of her store behind her." Her store may mean "beauty's store," as Dowden suggests. Cf. V. and A. 1019: "For he, being dead, with him is beauty slain."

213. That when she dies, etc. "She is rich in beauty, but poor because the fate of humanity means that her wealth, or riches, can be taken away by death, which will, in the same instant, end beauty" (Johnson); or, as Mason puts it, "she is poor because she leaves nothing of her wealth behind." Her wealth might refer to "beauty's wealth," as Dowden suggests. Cf. V. and A. 1019: "For he, being dead, with him is beauty slain."

215. In that sparing makes huge waste. Cf. Sonn. 1. 12: "And, tender churl, makes waste in niggarding."

215. In that sparing makes huge waste. Cf. Sonn. 1. 12: "And, gentle miser, wastes by being stingy."

216. Starv'd. The early eds. (except the 4th folio) have "sterv'd," the old form of the word, found in several other passages in the folio (M. of V. iv. 1. 138, Cor. iv. 2. 51, etc.) and rhyming with deserve in Cor. ii. 3. 120. Cf. Spenser, F.Q. iv. 1. 4:—

216. Starv'd. The early editions (except the 4th folio) have "sterv'd," the older form of the word, which appears in several other passages in the folio (M. of V. iv. 1. 138, Cor. iv. 2. 51, etc.) and rhymes with deserve in Cor. ii. 3. 120. See Spenser, F.Q. iv. 1. 4:—

"Untill such time as noble Britomart
Released her, that else was like to sterve
Through cruell knife that her deare heart did kerve."

There it means to die (its original sense), as in Hen. VII. v. 3. 132.

There it means to die (its original sense), as in Hen. VII. v. 3. 132.

226. To call hers, exquisite. "That is, to call hers, which is exquisite, the more into my remembrance and contemplation" (Heath); or "to make her unparalleled beauty more the subject of thought and conversation" (Malone). For question = conversation, cf. A.Y.L. iii. 4. 39, v. 4. 167, etc. But why may not question repeat the idea of examine? Benvolio says, "Examine other beauties;" Romeo replies, in substance, that the result of the examination will only be to prove her beauty superior to theirs and therefore the more extraordinary.

226. To call hers, exquisite. "That is, to bring her exquisite beauty more into my thoughts and reflections" (Heath); or "to make her unmatched beauty the focus of discussion" (Malone). For question = conversation, see A.Y.L. iii. 4. 39, v. 4. 167, etc. But why can’t question also imply the idea of examine? Benvolio says, "Examine other beauties;" Romeo responds, in essence, that the outcome of that examination will only prove her beauty to be superior to theirs and thus even more extraordinary.

227. These happy masks. Steevens took this to refer to "the masks worn by female spectators of the play;" but it is probably = the masks worn nowadays. They are called happy as "being privileged to touch the sweet countenances beneath" (Clarke).

227. These happy masks. Steevens thought this referred to "the masks worn by women watching the play;" but it likely refers to the masks worn today. They are called happy because they "allow the privilege of touching the lovely faces underneath" (Clarke).

229. Strucken. The early eds. have "strucken" or "strooken." S. also uses struck (or strook) and stricken as the participle.

229. Strucken. The earlier editions have "strucken" or "strooken." S. also uses struck (or strook) and stricken as the participle.

231. Passing. Often used adverbially but only before adjectives and adverbs. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 103, Much Ado, ii. 1. 84, etc.

231. Passing. Frequently used adverbially, but only when placed before adjectives and adverbs. See L. L. L. iv. 3. 103, Much Ado, ii. 1. 84, etc.

235. Pay that doctrine. Give that instruction. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 350: "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive;" A. and C. v. 2. 31:—

235. Pay that doctrine. Give that instruction. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 350: "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive;" A. and C. v. 2. 31:—

"I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience," etc.

Scene 2.

4. Reckoning. Estimation, reputation.

Estimation, reputation.

9. Fourteen years. In Brooke's poem her father says, "Scarce saw she yet full xvi. yeres;" and in Paynter's novel "as yet shee is not attayned to the age of xviii. yeares."

9. Fourteen years. In Brooke's poem, her father says, "She has barely seen sixteen years yet;" and in Paynter's novel, "She has not yet reached the age of eighteen."

13. Made. The 1st quarto has "maried," which is followed by some editors. The antithesis of make and mar is a very common one in S. Cf. ii. 4. 110 below: "that God hath made for himself to mar." See also L. L. L. iv. 3. 191, M.N.D. i. 2. 39, A.Y.L. i. 1. 34, T. of S. iv. 3. 97, Macb. ii. 3. 36, Oth. v. 1. 4, etc. On the other hand, examples of the opposition of married and marred[Pg 173] are not uncommon in Elizabethan writers. Cf. A.W. ii. 3. 315: "A young man married is a man that's marr'd."

13. Made. The first quarto has "married," which is followed by some editors. The contrast between make and mar is a very common one in S. See ii. 4. 110 below: "that God has made for himself to mar." Also refer to L. L. L. iv. 3. 191, M.N.D. i. 2. 39, A.Y.L. i. 1. 34, T. of S. iv. 3. 97, Macb. ii. 3. 36, Oth. v. 1. 4, etc. On the other hand, examples of the contrast between married and marred[Pg 173] are not uncommon among Elizabethan writers. See A.W. ii. 3. 315: "A young man married is a man that's marred."

14. All my hopes but she. Capulet seems to imply here that he has lost some children; but cf. iii. 5. 163 below.

14. All my hopes but she. Capulet seems to suggest that he has lost some children; but see iii. 5. 163 below.

15. My earth. My world or my life; rather than my lands, my landed property, as some explain it. It was apparently suggested by the earth of the preceding line.

15. My earth. My world or my life; not just my properties or land, as others might put it. It seems to be a reference to the earth in the previous line.

17. My will, etc. My will is subordinate to her consent. The old man talks very differently in iii. 5 below.

17. My will, etc. My wishes depend on her approval. The old man expresses himself in a completely different way in iii. 5 below.

25. Dark heaven. The darkness of night. Cf. i. 5. 47 below.

25. Dark heaven. The night is dark. Cf. i. 5. 47 below.

26. Young men. Malone compares Sonn. 98. 2:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Malone compares Sonn. 98. 2:—

"When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing."

29. Female. The quartos (except the 1st) and 1st folio have the curious misprint "fennell."

29. Female. The quartos (except the 1st) and 1st folio contain the odd typo "fennell."

30. Inherit. Possess; as in Temp. iv. 1. 154, Rich. II. ii. 1. 83, Cymb. iii. 2. 63, etc.

30. Inherit. Own; as in Temp. iv. 1. 154, Rich. II. ii. 1. 83, Cymb. iii. 2. 63, etc.

32. Which on more view, etc. A perplexing line for which many emendations have been suggested. With the reading in the text the meaning seems to be: which one (referring to her of most merit), after your further inspection of the many, my daughter (who is one of the number) may prove to be,—one in number, though one is no number. The quibble at the end alludes to the old proverb that "one is no number." Cf. Sonn. 136. 8: "Among a number one is reckon'd none." Dowden points thus: "Which on more view of, many—mine being one—May," etc., and explains thus: "On more view of whom (that is, the lady of most merit), many (other ladies)—and my daughter among them—may stand in a count of heads, but in estimation (reckoning, with a play on the word) none can hold a place." The general sense of the passage is clear, whatever reading or analysis we adopt. Capulet says in substance: Come to my house to-night, and decide whom you like best of the beauties gathered there; if Juliet[Pg 174] be the one, well and good. He has already told Paris that she shall be his if he can gain her love, but discreetly suggests that he look more carefully at the "fresh female buds" of Verona before plucking one to wear on his heart.

32. Which on more view, etc. A confusing line for which many changes have been suggested. With the current wording, the meaning seems to be: which one (referring to her of most merit), after your closer look at the many, my daughter (who is one of them) might turn out to be—just one among them, even though one isn't really a number. The play on words at the end refers to the old saying that "one is no number." See Sonn. 136. 8: "Among a number one is regarded as none." Dowden analyzes it this way: "Which upon further consideration, among many—mine being one—May," etc., and clarifies as follows: "Upon further consideration of whom (that is, the lady of most merit), many (other ladies)—including my daughter—may be counted, but in terms of value (reckoning, with a play on the word) none can hold a place." The overall meaning of the passage is clear, regardless of the interpretation we choose. Capulet essentially says: Come to my house tonight and pick who you like best among the beautiful women gathered there; if Juliet is the one, great. He has already told Paris that she will be his if he can win her love, but subtly suggests that he should take a closer look at the "fresh female buds" of Verona before choosing one to claim.

36. Written there. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Brooke's poem:—

"No Lady fayre or fowle was in Verona towne:
No knight or gentleman of high or lowe renowne:
But Capilet himselfe hath byd vnto his feast:
Or by his name in paper sent, appoynted as a geast."

46. One fire, etc. Alluding to the old proverb that "fire drives out fire." Cf. J.C. iii. 1. 171: "As fire drives out fire, so pity pity;" Cor. iv. 7. 54: "One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail," etc.

46. One fire, etc. Referring to the old saying that "fire drives out fire." See J.C. iii. 1. 171: "Just as fire drives out fire, so does compassion drive out compassion;" Cor. iv. 7. 54: "One fire drives out another fire; one nail, one nail," etc.

48. Holp. Used by S. oftener than helped, for both the past tense and the participle.

48. Holp. Used by S. more often than helped, for both the past tense and the participle.

49. Cures with. Is cured by. S. does not elsewhere use cure intransitively. Languish occurs again as a noun in A. and C. v. 2. 42: "That rids our dogs of languish." On the passage cf. Brooke:—

49. Cures with. is cured by. S. doesn’t use cure intransitively anywhere else. Languish appears again as a noun in A. and C. v. 2. 42: "That rids our dogs of languish." For this passage, see Brooke:—

"Ere long the townishe dames together will resort:
Some one of bewty, favour, shape, and of so lovely porte:
With so fast fixed eye, perhaps thou mayst beholde:
That thou shalt quite forget thy loue, and passions past of olde.
*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *
The proverbe saith vnminded oft are they that are vnseene.
And as out of a planke a nayle a nayle doth drive:
So novell love out of the minde the auncient loue doth rive."

52. Your plantain-leaf. The common plantain (Plantago major), which still holds a place in the domestic materia medica. For its use in healing bruises, cf. L. L. L. iii. 1. 74:—

52. Your plantain-leaf. The common plantain (Plantago major), which is still recognized in modern herbal medicine. For its use in treating bruises, see L. L. L. iii. 1. 74:—

"Moth. A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin.
*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *
Costard. O sir, plantain, a plain plantain! ... no salve, sir, but a plantain!"

Steevens quotes Albumazar: "Bring a fresh plantain leaf, I've broke my shin." A broken shin, like a broken head (M.W. i. 125, T.N. v. 1. 178, etc.) is one that is bruised, so that the blood runs, not one that is fractured. The plantain was supposed to have other virtues. Halliwell-Phillipps quotes Withals, Little Dictionarie for Children, 1586: "The tode being smitten of the spyder in fighte, and made to swell with hir poyson, recovereth himselfe with plantaine."

Steevens quotes Albumazar: "Bring me a fresh plantain leaf, I've hurt my shin." A hurt shin, like a hurt head (M.W. i. 125, T.N. v. 1. 178, etc.) is one that is bruised, causing bleeding, not one that is fractured. The plantain was believed to have other healing properties. Halliwell-Phillipps quotes Withals, Little Dictionarie for Children, 1586: "The toad, when struck by the spider in a fight and made to swell from her poison, heals itself with plantain."

55. Not mad, but bound, etc. An allusion to the old-time treatment of the insane. Cf. C. of E. iv. 4. 97: "They must be bound and laid in some dark room;" and A.Y.L. iii. 2. 420: "Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do."

55. Not mad, but bound, etc. A reference to how people in the past treated the mentally ill. See C. of E. iv. 4. 97: "They must be tied up and put in a dark room;" and A.Y.L. iii. 2. 420: "Love is just a kind of madness, and, honestly, it deserves a dark space and a whip just like madmen do."

57. Good-den. Printed "godden" and "gooden" in the early eds., and a corruption of good e'en, or good evening. God gi' good-den in the next line is printed "Godgigoden" in the quartos and first three folios, "God gi' Good-e'en" in the 4th folio. This salutation was used as soon as noon was past. See on i. 1. 157 above, and cf. ii. 4. 105 fol. below.

57. Good-den. Printed "godden" and "gooden" in the early editions, which is a mistake for good e'en, or good evening. God gi' good-den in the next line is printed "Godgigoden" in the quartos and first three folios, "God gi' Good-e'en" in the 4th folio. This greeting was used after noon. See on i. 1. 157 above, and compare ii. 4. 105 fol. below.

64. Rest you merry! For the full form, God rest you merry! (= God keep you merry), cf. A.Y.L. v. 1. 65, etc. It was a common form of salutation at meeting, and oftener at parting. Here the servant is about to leave, thinking that Romeo is merely jesting with him. Cf. 79 below.

64. Rest you merry! For the full version, God keep you merry! This was a common greeting when people met and even more so when they said goodbye. In this case, the servant is about to leave, believing that Romeo is just joking with him. See 79 below.

66-69. Signior Martino, etc. Probably meant to be prose, but some editors make bad verse of it.

66-69. Signior Martino, etc. It was likely intended as prose, but some editors turn it into poor verse.

69. Mercutio. Mercutio here figures among the invited guests, although we find him always associating with the young men of the Montague family. He is the prince's "kinsman," and apparently on terms of acquaintance with both the rival houses, though more intimate with the Montagues than with the Capulets.

69. Mercutio. Mercutio is one of the invited guests, but he often hangs out with the young men from the Montague family. He is the prince's "relative" and seems to know both rival families, although he is closer with the Montagues than with the Capulets.

71. Rosaline. This shows that Rosaline is a Capulet.

71. Rosaline. This indicates that Rosaline is a Capulet.

74. Up. Dowden plausibly prints "Up—," assuming that "Romeo eagerly interrupts the servant, who would have said 'Up to our house.'"

74. Up. Dowden reasonably suggests "Up—," thinking that "Romeo jumps in to interrupt the servant, who was about to say 'Up to our house.'"

82. Crush a cup, etc. A common expression in the old plays. We still say "crack a bottle."

82. Crush a cup, etc. A common saying in the old plays. We still say "crack a bottle."

87. Unattainted. Unprejudiced, impartial; used by S. only here.

87. Unattainted. Fair and unbiased; used by S. only here.

91. Fires. The early eds. have "fire," which White retains as an admissible rhyme in Shakespeare's day.

91. Fires. The early editions have "fire," which White keeps as an acceptable rhyme in Shakespeare's time.

92. Who often drown'd, etc. Alluding to the old notion that if a witch were thrown into the water she would not sink. King James, in his Dæmonology, says: "It appeares that God hath appointed for a supernatural signe of the monstrous impietie of witches, that the water shall refuse to receive them in her bosom that have shaken off them the sacred water of baptism, and wilfully refused the benefit thereof."

92. Who often drown'd, etc. Referencing the old belief that if a witch was thrown into water, she wouldn’t drown. King James, in his Dæmonology, states: "It appears that God has designated a supernatural sign of the monstrous evil of witches, that the water will refuse to embrace those who have cast off the sacred water of baptism and have willfully rejected its benefits."

98. That crystal scales. The reading of the early eds., changed by some to "those," etc.; but scales may be used for the entire machine. Dyce says it was often so used by writers of the time.

98. That crystal scales. The early editions read differently, with some changing it to "those," etc.; however, scales can apply to the whole machine. Dyce mentions that this was often the case with writers of that era.

99. Lady's love. Some substitute "lady-love," which S. does not use elsewhere. Clarke suggests that your lady's love may mean "the little love Rosaline bears you," weighed against that of some possible maid.

99. Lady's love. Some replace "lady-love," which S. does not use anywhere else. Clarke suggests that your lady's love might mean "the small affection Rosaline has for you," compared to that of some possible girl.

101. Scant. Not elsewhere used adverbially by S. Scantly occurs only in A. and C. iii. 4. 6.

101. Scant. Not used in any other way by S. Scantly appears only in A. and C. iii. 4. 6.

Scene 3.

1. On the character of the Nurse Mrs. Jameson says:—

1. On the character of the Nurse Mrs. Jameson says:—

"She is drawn with the most wonderful power and discrimination. In the prosaic homeliness of the outline, and the magical illusion of the colouring, she reminds us of some of the marvellous Dutch paintings, from which, with all their coarseness, we start back as from a reality. Her low humour, her shallow garrulity, mixed with the dotage and petulance of age—her subserviency, her secrecy, and her total want of elevated principle, or even common honesty—are brought before us like a living and palpable truth....

"She is portrayed with incredible strength and discernment. In the plain familiarity of her outline and the enchanting illusion of her coloring, she reminds us of some remarkable Dutch paintings, which, despite their roughness, we instinctively recoil from as if confronting reality. Her dry humor, her trivial chatter, blended with the frailty and irritability of old age—her servility, her secrecy, and her complete absence of noble principles, or even basic honesty—are presented to us as a vivid and tangible truth...."

"Among these harsh and inferior spirits is Juliet placed; her haughty parents, and her plebeian nurse, not only throw into beautiful relief her own native softness and elegance, but are at once the cause and the excuse of her subsequent conduct. She trembles before her stern mother and her violent father, but, like a petted child, alternately cajoles and commands her nurse. It is her old foster-mother who is the confidante of her love. It is the woman who cherished her infancy who aids and abets her in her clandestine marriage. Do we not perceive how immediately our impression of Juliet's character would have been lowered, if Shakespeare had placed her in connection with any commonplace dramatic waiting-woman?—even with Portia's adroit Nerissa, or Desdemona's Emilia? By giving her the Nurse for her confidante, the sweetness and dignity of Juliet's character are preserved inviolate to the fancy, even in the midst of all the romance and wilfulness of passion."

"Juliet is surrounded by harsh and inferior spirits; her arrogant parents and her common nurse not only highlight her natural softness and elegance but also contribute to her later actions. She feels intimidated by her strict mother and her aggressive father, but like a spoiled child, she alternates between sweet-talking and ordering around her nurse. It’s her former caregiver who becomes her confidante in love. The woman who cared for her as a child helps her with her secret marriage. Can we see how our impression of Juliet’s character would have dropped if Shakespeare had paired her with any ordinary dramatic maid?—even with Portia's clever Nerissa or Desdemona's Emilia? By choosing the Nurse as her confidante, the sweetness and dignity of Juliet's character remain intact in the imagination, even amid all the romance and impulsiveness of passion."

Cf. Coleridge: "The character of the Nurse is the nearest of anything in Shakspeare to a direct borrowing from mere observation; and the reason is, that as in infancy and childhood the individual in nature is a representative of a class—just as in describing one larch-tree, you generalize a grove of them—so it is nearly as much so in old age. The generalization is done to the poet's hand. Here you have the garrulity of age strengthened by the feelings of a long-trusted servant, whose sympathy with the mother's affections gives her privileges and rank in the household; and observe the mode of connection by accidents of time and place, and the childlike fondness of repetition in a second childhood, and also that happy, humble ducking under, yet constant resurgence against, the check of her superiors!"

Cf. Coleridge: "The character of the Nurse is the closest thing in Shakespeare to a direct observation; and the reason is that just as in infancy and childhood the individual in nature represents a class—similarly to how describing one larch tree generalizes the entire grove—this is also true in old age. The poet naturally makes this generalization. Here you find the loquacity of age amplified by the emotions of a long-trusted servant, whose empathy with the mother's feelings gives her special status and rank in the household; and notice how her connection is shaped by the circumstances of time and place, along with the childlike affection for repetition in a second childhood, and also that happy, humble submission to, yet persistent pushback against, the authority of her betters!"

2. Maidenhead. Etymologically the same word as maidenhood. So lustihead = lustihood, livelihead = livelihood (as in Spenser, F.Q. ii. 2. 2: "for porcion of thy livelyhed"), etc. Cf. Godhead, etc.

2. Maidenhead. The same word originates as maidenhood. So lustihead means lustihood, livelihead means livelihood (like in Spenser, F.Q. ii. 2. 2: "for portion of your livelihood"), and so on. See Godhead, etc.

4. God forbid! Staunton suggests that the Nurse uses lady-bird[Pg 178] as a term of endearment; but, recollecting its application to a woman of loose life, checks herself—God forbid her darling should prove such a one! Dyce explains it: "God forbid that any accident should keep her away!" This seems to me more probable.

4. God forbid! Staunton suggests that the Nurse uses lady-bird[Pg 178] as a term of affection; but, remembering its use for a woman of questionable character, she stops herself—God forbid her darling should turn out to be like that! Dyce interprets it: "God forbid that anything should keep her away!" That seems more likely to me.

7. Give leave awhile. Leave us alone; a courteous form of dismissal. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 1. 1: "Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;" M.W. ii. 2. 165: "Give us leave, drawer," etc.

7. Give leave awhile. Please leave us alone; it's a polite way to say goodbye. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 1. 1: "Sir Thurio, please let us be for a bit;" M.W. ii. 2. 165: "Let us be, waiter," etc.

9. I have remember'd me. For the reflexive use, cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 468: "and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff," etc.

9. I have remember'd me. For the reflexive use, see 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 468: "and now I remember, his name is Falstaff," etc.

Thou's. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 246. The early eds. have "thou 'se"; most modern ones substitute "thou shalt."

Thou's. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 246. The early editions have "thou 'se"; most modern ones replace it with "thou shalt."

12. Lay. Wager. Cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 310, T. and C. iii. 1. 95, etc.

12. Lay. Bet. See L. L. L. i. 1. 310, T. and C. iii. 1. 95, etc.

13. Teen. Sorrow; used here for the play on fourteen. Cf. V. and A. 808: "My face is full of shame, my heart of teen;" Temp. i. 2. 64: "the teen I have turn'd you to;" L. L. L. iv. 3. 164: "Of sighs and groans, of sorrow and of teen," etc.

13. Teen. Sadness; used here for the play on fourteen. See V. and A. 808: "My face is full of shame, my heart of sorrow;" Temp. i. 2. 64: "the sorrow I've caused you;" L. L. L. iv. 3. 164: "Of sighs and groans, of sorrow and of sadness," etc.

15. Lammas-tide. The 1st of August. Tide = time, as in even-tide, springtide, etc. Cf. K. John, iii. 1. 86:—

15. Lammas-tide. August 1st. Tide = time, as in even-tide, springtide, etc. See K. John, iii. 1. 86:—

"What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done,
That it in golden letters should be set
Among the high tides in the calendar?"

See also the play upon the word in T. of A. i. 2. 57: "Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides well."

See also the wordplay in T. of A. i. 2. 57: "Come this way! A brave guy! He manages his tides well."

23. The earthquake. Tyrwhitt suggested that this may refer to the earthquake felt in England on the 6th of April, 1580. Malone notes that if the earthquake happened on the day when Juliet was weaned (presumably when she was a year old), she could not well be more than twelve years old now; but the Nurse makes her almost fourteen—as her father (i. 2. 9) and her mother (i. 3. 12) also do.

23. The earthquake. Tyrwhitt proposed that this might refer to the earthquake that was felt in England on April 6, 1580. Malone points out that if the earthquake occurred on the day Juliet was weaned (which is probably when she was about a year old), she couldn't be more than twelve years old now; however, the Nurse claims she is almost fourteen—as do both her father (i. 2. 9) and her mother (i. 3. 12).

26. Wormwood. Halliwell-Phillipps cites Cawdray, Treasurie or Storehouse of Similies, 1600: "if the mother put worme-wood or mustard upon the breast, the child sucking it, and feeling the bitternesse, he quite forsaketh it, without sucking any more," etc.

26. Wormwood. Halliwell-Phillipps references Cawdray, Treasurie or Storehouse of Similies, 1600: "if the mother puts wormwood or mustard on her breast, the child sucking it, and tasting the bitterness, completely rejects it and stops nursing altogether," etc.

27. Sitting in the sun, etc. Cf. Dame Quickly's circumstantial reminiscences, 2 Hen. IV. ii. 1. 93 fol.: "Thou didst swear to me," etc.

27. Sitting in the sun, etc. See Dame Quickly's detailed memories, 2 Hen. IV. ii. 1. 93 fol.: "You swore to me," etc.

29. Bear a brain. Have a brain, that is, a good memory.

29. Bear a brain. Have a sharp mind, meaning a strong memory.

31. Pretty fool. On fool as a term of endearment or pity, cf. A.Y.L. ii. 1. 22, Lear, v. 2. 308, etc.

31. Pretty fool. Regarding fool as a term of affection or sympathy, see A.Y.L. ii. 1. 22, Lear, v. 2. 308, etc.

32. Tetchy. Touchy, fretful. Cf. Rich. III. iv. 4. 168: "Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy."

32. Tetchy. Sensitive, irritable. See Rich. III. iv. 4. 168: "You were prickly and unpredictable as a child."

33. Shake, quoth the dove-house. The dove-house shook. It refers of course to the effects of the earthquake. Daniel (in Dowden's ed.) quotes Peele, Old Wives' Tale: "Bounce, quoth the guns;" and Heywood, Fair Maid of the West: "Rouse, quoth the ship."

33. Shake, quoth the dove-house. The dove-house trembled. This is, of course, referring to the impact of the earthquake. Daniel (in Dowden's edition) cites Peele, Old Wives' Tale: "Bounce, said the guns;" and Heywood, Fair Maid of the West: "Awake, said the ship."

36. By the rood. That is, by the cross; as in Ham. iii. 4. 14, Rich. III. iii. 2. 77, etc. For alone the 1st and 2d quartos have "high-lone," which Herford, Dowden, and some others adopt. "It is an alteration of alone, of obscure origin" (New Eng. Dict.) found in Marston, Middleton, and other writers of the time. In George Washington's Diary (1760) it is used of mares. According to the description here, Juliet could not have been much more than a year old at the time. See on 23 above.

36. By the rood. That is, by the cross; as in Ham. iii. 4. 14, Rich. III. iii. 2. 77, etc. For alone, the 1st and 2nd quartos have "high-lone," which Herford, Dowden, and some others use. "It's an alteration of alone, of obscure origin" (New Eng. Dict.) found in Marston, Middleton, and other writers of the time. In George Washington's Diary (1760), it is used for mares. According to the description here, Juliet could not have been much more than a year old at the time. See on 23 above.

38. Mark. Appoint, elect. Cf. T.A. i. 1. 125: "To this your son is mark'd, and die he must."

38. Mark. Appoint, elect. Cf. T.A. i. 1. 125: "This is what your son is destined for, and he has to die."

40. To see thee married once. Once see thee married.

Once I see you married.

51. Much upon these years. Nearly at the same age. Cf. M. for M. iv. 1. 17: "much upon this time;" Rich. III. v. 3. 70: "Much about cock-shut time," etc. As Juliet is fourteen, Lady Capulet would be about twenty-eight, while her husband, having done masking for some thirty years (see i. 5. 35 fol.), must be at least sixty. See also on v. 3. 207 below.

51. Much upon these years. Almost at the same age. Cf. M. for M. iv. 1. 17: "around this time;" Rich. III. v. 3. 70: "About dusk," etc. Since Juliet is fourteen, Lady Capulet would be around twenty-eight, while her husband, having been involved in masquerades for about thirty years (see i. 5. 35 fol.), must be at least sixty. See also on v. 3. 207 below.

55. A man of wax. "As pretty as if he had been modelled in wax" (Schmidt). Steevens quotes Wily Beguiled: "Why, he's a man as one should picture him in wax." White adds from Lyly, Euphues and his England: "so exquisite that for shape he must be[Pg 180] framed in wax," and refers to iii. 3. 126 below. Dyce cites Faire Em:—

55. A man of wax. "As beautiful as if he had been made of wax" (Schmidt). Steevens references Wily Beguiled: "Why, he's a man you would imagine crafted in wax." White adds from Lyly, Euphues and his England: "so perfect that for his shape he must be[Pg 180] molded in wax," and points to iii. 3. 126 below. Dyce cites Faire Em:—

"A sweet face, an exceeding daintie hand:
A body, were it framed of wax
By all the cunning artists of the world,
It could not better be proportioned."

60. Read o'er the volume, etc. Here one quibble leads to another by the power of association. "The volume of young Paris's face suggests the beauty's pen, which hath writ there. Then the obscurities of the fair volume are written in the margin of his eyes as comments of ancient books are always printed in the margin. Lastly, this book of love lacks a cover; the golden story must be locked with golden clasps" (Knight).

60. Read o'er the volume, etc. Here one argument leads to another through association. "The shape of young Paris's face suggests the pen of beauty that has written there. Then the mysteries of that beautiful shape are noted in the margins of his eyes, like comments in the margins of old books. Finally, this book of love doesn’t have a cover; the golden story needs to be secured with golden clasps" (Knight).

62. Married. The reading of 2d quarto; the other early eds. have "severall," which some editors adopt. Married = "closely joined, and hence concordant, harmonious" (Schmidt). Cf. T. and C. i. 3. 100: "The unity and married calm of states;" and Sonn. 8. 6:—

62. Married. The reading of the second quarto; the other early editions have "various," which some editors choose to use. Married means "closely joined, and therefore in agreement, harmonious" (Schmidt). See T. and C. i. 3. 100: "The unity and married calm of states;" and Sonn. 8. 6:—

"If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear."

See also Milton, L'All. 137: "Married to immortal verse."

See also Milton, L'All. 137: "Joined to timeless poetry."

65. Margent. Malone quotes R. of L. 102:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Malone quotes R. of L. 102:—

"But she that never cop'd with stranger eyes
Could pick no meaning from their parting looks,
Nor read the subtle shining secrecies
Writ in the glassy margent of such books."

See also Ham. v. 2. 162.

See also Ham. v. 2. 162.

67. Cover. "A quibble on the law phrase for a married woman, who is styled a femme couverte [feme covert] in law French" (Mason).

67. Cover. "A legal technicality regarding the term for a married woman, who is referred to as a femme couverte [feme covert] in legal French" (Mason).

68. Lives in the sea. Is not yet caught. The bride has not yet been won. Farmer thought it an allusion to fish-skin as used for binding books.

68. Lives in the sea. Isn't caught yet. The bride hasn't been won. The farmer thought it referred to fish skin used for binding books.

70. Many's. Cf. Sonn. 93. 7: "In many's looks," etc.

70. Many's. See Sonn. 93. 7: "In many faces," etc.

74. Like of. Cf. Much Ado, v. 4. 59: "I am your husband, if you like of me."

74. Like of. Cf. Much Ado, v. 4. 59: "I am your husband, if that works for you."

76. Endart. Not elsewhere used by S. and perhaps of his own coining.

76. Endart. Not used anywhere else by S., and maybe he came up with it himself.

80. Cursed. Because she is not at hand to help. In extremity = at a desperate pass. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 3, A.Y.L. iv. 1. 5, etc.

80. Cursed. Because she isn’t here to assist. In extremity = in a desperate situation. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 3, A.Y.L. iv. 1. 5, etc.

83. County. Count; as often in this play. See also M. of V. i. 2. 49, A.W. iii. 7. 22, etc.

83. County. Count; as frequently noted in this play. Refer to M. of V. i. 2. 49, A.W. iii. 7. 22, etc.

Scene 4.

Mercutio is thus described in Brooke's poem:—

Mercutio is described in Brooke's poem as follows:—

"At thone syde of her chayre, her lover Romeo:
And on the other side there sat one cald Mercutio.
A courtier that eche where was highly had in pryce:
For he was coorteous of his speche, and pleasant of devise.
Euen as a Lyon would emong the lambes be bolde:
Such was emong the bashfull maydes, Mercutio to beholde.
With frendly gripe he ceasd [seized] fayre Juliets snowish hand:
A gyft he had that nature gaue him in his swathing band.
That frosen mountayne yse was neuer halfe so cold
As were his handes, though nere so neer the fire he dyd them holde."

In Paynter's Palace of Pleasure he is spoken of as "an other Gentleman called Mercutio, which was a courtlyke Gentleman, very well beloued of all men, and by reason of his pleasaunt and curteous behauior was in euery company wel intertayned." His "audacity among Maydens" and his cold hands are also mentioned.

In Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, he refers to "another gentleman called Mercutio, who was a dashing gentleman, well-loved by everyone, and because of his pleasant and courteous behavior, he was well-received in every company." His "boldness with ladies" and his cold hands are also noted.

1. This speech. Furness would read "the speech"; but, as the scene opens in the midst of the conversation, S. may have meant to imply that some one in the company has suggested an introductory speech. See the following note.

1. This speech. Furness would read "the speech"; however, since the scene starts in the middle of a conversation, S. might have intended to suggest that someone in the group proposed an introductory speech. See the following note.

3. The date is out, etc. That is, such tediousness is now out of fashion. Steevens remarks: "In Henry VIII. where the king introduces himself to the entertainment given by Wolsey [i. 4] he appears, like Romeo and his companions, in a mask, and sends a[Pg 182] messenger before to make an apology for his intrusion. This was a custom observed by those who came uninvited, with a desire to conceal themselves for the sake of intrigue, or to enjoy the greater freedom of conversation. Their entry on these occasions was always prefaced by some speech in praise of the beauty of the ladies or the generosity of the entertainer; and to the prolixity of such introductions I believe Romeo is made to allude. So in Histrio-mastix, 1610, a man expresses his wonder that the maskers enter without any compliment: 'What, come they in so blunt, without device?' In the accounts of many entertainments given in reigns antecedent to that of Elizabeth, I find this custom preserved. Of the same kind of masquerading see a specimen in T. of A. [i. 2], where Cupid precedes a troop of ladies with a speech." Collier compares L. L. L. v. 2. 158 fol.

3. The date is out, etc. In other words, that kind of tediousness is no longer in style. Steevens notes: "In Henry VIII. where the king introduces himself to the event hosted by Wolsey [i. 4], he, like Romeo and his friends, appears in a mask, and sends a[Pg 182] messenger ahead to apologize for his intrusion. This was a custom for uninvited guests who wanted to hide their identities for the sake of intrigue or to enjoy more freedom in conversation. Their entrance was always preceded by some flattering speech about the beauty of the ladies or the generosity of the host; and I believe Romeo is referring to the prolixity of such introductions. Similarly, in Histrio-mastix, 1610, a man expresses surprise that the maskers enter without any compliments: 'What, come they in so blunt, without device?' In many accounts of entertainments from before Elizabeth's reign, I see this custom still practiced. You can see a similar type of masquerade in T. of A. [i. 2], where Cupid leads a group of ladies with a speech." Collier compares this to L. L. L. v. 2. 158 fol.

5. Bow of lath. The Tartar bows resembled in form the old Roman or Cupid's bow, such as we see on medals and bas-reliefs; while the English bow had the shape of the segment of a circle.

5. Bow of lath. The Tartar bows looked similar to the old Roman or Cupid's bow, like those we see on coins and sculptures; while the English bow was shaped like a segment of a circle.

6. Crow-keeper. Originally a boy stationed in a field to drive the birds away (as in Lear, iv. 6. 88: "That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper"); afterwards applied, as here, to what we call a scarecrow. The latter was often a stuffed figure with a bow in his hand.

6. Crow-keeper. Originally, a boy was placed in a field to scare off birds (like in Lear, iv. 6. 88: "That guy handles his bow like a bird scare"); later, this term was used for what we now call a scarecrow. The scarecrow was usually a stuffed figure holding a bow.

7, 8. These lines are found only in the 1st quarto, and were first inserted in the text by Pope. White believes that they were purposely omitted, but only on account of their disparagement of the prologue-speakers on the stage. Prologues and epilogues were often prepared, not by the author of the play, but by some other person; and this was probably the case with some of the prologues and epilogues in S. Faintly = "in a weak mechanical way" (Ulrici). Entrance is a trisyllable, as in Macb. i. 5. 40.

7, 8. These lines are found only in the 1st quarto, and were first included in the text by Pope. White thinks they were intentionally left out, but only because they mock the prologue speakers on stage. Prologues and epilogues were often written not by the playwright but by someone else; this was probably the case with some of the prologues and epilogues in S. Faintly = "in a weak, mechanical way" (Ulrici). Entrance is a trisyllable, like in Macb. i. 5. 40.

10. A measure. A formal courtly dance. Cf. Much Ado, ii. 1. 80: "as a measure, full of state and ancientry;" and for the play on the word, Id. ii. 1. 74, L. L. L. iv. 3. 384, and Rich. II. iii. 4. 7.

10. A measure. A formal court dance. See Much Ado, ii. 1. 80: "as a dance, full of elegance and tradition;" and for the play on words, see Id. ii. 1. 74, L. L. L. iv. 3. 384, and Rich. II. iii. 4. 7.

11. A torch. Maskers were regularly attended by torch-bearers.[Pg 183] The commentators quote illustrations of this from other authors, but do not refer to M. of V. ii. 4. 5: "We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers;" and 21 just below:—

11. A torch. Maskers were usually accompanied by torch-bearers.[Pg 183] The commentators provide examples from other authors, but they don't mention M. of V. ii. 4. 5: "We have not yet talked about torch-bearers;" and 21 just below:—

"Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearre."

See also Id. ii. 6. 40 fol. For the contemptuous use of ambling, see Ham. iii. 1. 151, 1 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 60, etc.

See also Id. ii. 6. 40 fol. For the disrespectful use of ambling, see Ham. iii. 1. 151, 1 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 60, etc.

12. The light. For the poet's frequent playing on the different senses of light, see on i. 1. 134 above. Cf. ii. 2. 105 below.

12. The light. For the poet's regular use of the various meanings of light, refer to i. 1. 134 above. See also ii. 2. 105 below.

15. Soul. For the play on the word, cf. M. of V. ii. 4. 68, iv. 1. 123, and, J.C. i. 1. 15.

15. Soul. For the pun, see M. of V. ii. 4. 68, iv. 1. 123, and J.C. i. 1. 15.

19. Enpierced. Used by S. nowhere else.

19. Enpierced. Not used by S. anywhere else.

20. Bound. For the quibble, Steevens compares Milton, P.L. iv. 180:—

20. Bound. For the slight disagreement, Steevens compares Milton, P.L. iv. 180:—

"in contempt"
At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound
Of hill or highest wall," etc.

29. Give me a case. Perhaps Mercutio thinks he will wear a mask, and then changes his mind. Littledale suggests pointing "visage in!" It is possible, however, that lines 30-32 refer to a mask that is handed to him, and which he decides to wear, though it is an ugly one. On the whole, I prefer this explanation.

29. Give me a case. Maybe Mercutio thinks he’ll put on a mask but then has a change of heart. Littledale proposes emphasizing "visage in!" However, it's also possible that lines 30-32 mention a mask given to him, and he ultimately decides to wear it, even though it’s an unattractive one. Overall, I favor this interpretation.

31. Quote. Note, observe. Cf. Ham. ii. 1. 112:—

31. Quote. Pay attention, take note. See Ham. ii. 1. 112:—

"I am sorry that with better heed and judgment
I had not quoted him."

32. Beetle-brows. Prominent or overhanging brows. Cf. the verb beetle in Ham. i. 4. 71.

32. Beetle-brows. Heavy or protruding eyebrows. See the verb beetle in Ham. i. 4. 71.

36. Rushes. Before the introduction of carpets floors were strewn with rushes. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 214: "on the wanton rushes lay you down;" Cymb. ii. 2. 13:—

36. Rushes. Before carpets were introduced, floors were covered with rushes. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 214: "on the wanton rushes lay you down;" Cymb. ii. 2. 13:—

"Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes," etc.

See also R. of L. 318, T. of S. iv. 1. 48, and 2 Hen. IV. v. 5. 1. The stage was likewise strewn with rushes. Steevens quotes Dekker, Guls Hornbook: "on the very rushes where the comedy is to daunce."

See also R. of L. 318, T. of S. iv. 1. 48, and 2 Hen. IV. v. 5. 1. The stage was also covered with rushes. Steevens quotes Dekker, Guls Hornbook: "on the very rushes where the comedy is to dance."

37. I am proverb'd, etc. The old proverb fits my case, etc. To hold the candle is a very common phrase for being an idle spectator. Among Ray's proverbs is "A good candle-holder proves a good gamester" (Steevens).

37. I am proverb'd, etc. The old saying applies to me, etc. To hold the candle is a well-known expression for being an idle spectator. Among Ray's proverbs is "A good candle-holder proves a good gamester" (Steevens).

39. The game, etc. An old proverbial saying advises to give over when the game is at the fairest; and Romeo also alludes to this.

39. The game, etc. An old saying suggests that you should quit when the game is at its most even; and Romeo references this as well.

40. Dun's the mouse. Apparently = keep still; but no one has satisfactorily explained the origin of the phrase. Malone quotes Patient Grissel, 1603: "yet don is the mouse, lie still;" and Steevens adds The Two Merry Milkmaids, 1620: "Why then 'tis done, and dun's the mouse and undone all the courtiers."

40. Dun's the mouse. It seems to mean stay quiet; however, no one has clearly explained where the phrase comes from. Malone references Patient Grissel, 1603: "yet don is the mouse, lie still;" and Steevens adds The Two Merry Milkmaids, 1620: "Why then it's done, and dun's the mouse and all the courtiers are undone."

41. If thou art Dun, etc. Douce quotes Chaucer, C.T. 16936:

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Douce quotes Chaucer, C.T. 16936:

"Ther gan our hoste for to jape and play,
And sayde, 'sires, what? Dun is in the myre.'"

Gifford explains the expression thus: "Dun in the mire is a Christmas gambol, at which I have often played. A log of wood is brought into the midst of the room: this is Dun (the cart-horse), and a cry is raised that he is stuck in the mire. Two of the company advance, either with or without ropes, to draw him out. After repeated attempts, they find themselves unable to do it, and call for more assistance. The game continues till all the company take part in it, when Dun is extricated of course; and the merriment arises from the awkward and affected efforts of the rustics to lift the log, and from sundry arch contrivances to let the ends of it fall on one another's toes. This will not be thought a very exquisite amusement; and yet I have seen much honest mirth at it." Halliwell-Phillipps quotes Westward Hoe, 1607: "I see I'm born still to draw dun out o' th' mire for you; that wise beast will I be;" and[Pg 185] Butler, Remains: "they meant to leave reformation, like Dun in the mire."

Gifford explains the expression like this: "Dun in the mire is a Christmas game I've played many times. A log of wood is brought into the center of the room: this is Dun (the cart-horse), and a shout goes up that he is stuck in the mire. Two people step forward, either with ropes or without, to pull him out. After several tries, they find they can’t do it and call for more help. The game keeps going until everyone joins in, and of course, Dun gets pulled out; the fun comes from the clumsy and exaggerated attempts of the participants to lift the log, and from various clever tricks to drop the ends of it on each other's toes. This might not seem like a very refined pastime; but I’ve seen lots of genuine laughter at it." Halliwell-Phillipps quotes Westward Hoe, 1607: "I see I'm destined to always pull Dun out of the mire for you; that wise beast I will be;" and[Pg 185] Butler, Remains: "they meant to leave reformation, like Dun in the mire."

42. Sir-reverence. A contraction of "save reverence" (salva reverentia), used as an apology for saying what might be deemed improper. Cf. C. of E. iii. 2. 93: "such a one as a man may not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.'" Taylor the Water-Poet says in one of his epigrams:—

42. Sir-reverence. A contraction of "save reverence" (salva reverentia), used as an apology for saying something that might be considered inappropriate. Cf. C. of E. iii. 2. 93: "someone that you can’t talk about without saying 'no offense.'" Taylor the Water-Poet mentions in one of his epigrams:—

"If to a foule discourse thou hast pretence,
Before thy foule words name sir-reverence,
Thy beastly tale most pleasantly will slip,
And gaine thee praise, when thou deserv'st a whip."

Here "Mercutio says he will draw Romeo from the mire of this love, and uses parenthetically the ordinary form of apology for speaking so profanely of love" (Knight). For the full phrase, see Much Ado, iii. 4. 32, M. of V. ii. 2. 27, 139, etc.

Here "Mercutio says he will pull Romeo out of the mire of this love, and he casually apologizes for talking so disrespectfully about love" (Knight). For the full phrase, see Much Ado, iii. 4. 32, M. of V. ii. 2. 27, 139, etc.

43. Burn daylight. "A proverbial expression used when candles are lighted in the daytime" (Steevens); hence applied to superfluous actions in general. Here it is = waste time, as the context shows. Cf. M.W. ii. 1. 54, where it has the same meaning.

43. Burn daylight. "A saying used when candles are lit during the day" (Steevens); therefore, it refers to unnecessary actions in general. Here, it means to waste time, as the context indicates. See M.W. ii. 1. 54, where it has the same meaning.

45. We waste, etc. The quartos have "We waste our lights in vaine, lights lights by day;" the folios, "We wast our lights in vaine, lights, by day." The emendation is Capell's. Daniel and Dowden read, "light lights by day," which is very plausible.

45. We waste, etc. The quartos say, "We waste our lights in vain, lights lights by day;" the folios say, "We waste our lights in vain, lights, by day." The correction is Capell's. Daniel and Dowden read, "light lights by day," which makes sense.

47. Five wits. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 66: "four of his five wits went halting off;" Sonn. 141. 9: "But my five wits nor my five senses." Here the five wits are distinguished from the five senses; but the two expressions were sometimes used interchangeably. The five wits, on the other hand, were defined as "common wit, imagination, fantasy, estimation (judgment), and memory."

47. Five wits. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 66: "four of his five wits went limping away;" Sonn. 141. 9: "But my five wits nor my five senses." Here the five wits are set apart from the five senses; however, the two phrases were sometimes used to mean the same thing. The five wits were identified as "common wit, imagination, fantasy, estimation (judgment), and memory."

50. To-night. That is, last night, as in M.W. iii. 3. 171: "I have dreamed to-night;" W.T. ii. 3. 10: "He took good rest to-night," etc. See also ii. 4. 2 below.

50. To-night. So, last night, like in M.W. iii. 3. 171: "I dreamed last night;" W.T. ii. 3. 10: "He slept well last night," etc. Also, see ii. 4. 2 below.

53. Queen Mab. No earlier instance of Mab as the name of the[Pg 186] fairy-queen has been discovered, but S. no doubt learned it from the folk-lore of his own time. Its derivation is uncertain.

53. Queen Mab. No earlier reference to Mab as the name of the[Pg 186] fairy queen has been found, but S. likely picked it up from the folklore of his era. Its origin is unclear.

54. The fairies' midwife. Not midwife to the fairies, but the fairy whose department it was to deliver the fancies of sleeping men of their dreams, those children of an idle brain (Steevens). T. Warton believes she was so called because she steals new-born infants, and leaves "changelings" (see M.N.D. ii. 1. 23, etc.) in their place.

54. The fairies' midwife. Not a midwife to the fairies, but the fairy responsible for delivering the dreams of sleeping men, those "children of an idle brain" (Steevens). T. Warton thinks she got this name because she takes newborn infants and leaves "changelings" (see M.N.D. ii. 1. 23, etc.) in their place.

55. No bigger, etc. That is, no bigger than the figures cut in such an agate. Cf. Much Ado, iii. 1. 65: "If low, an agate very vilely cut." Rings were sometimes worn on the thumb. Steevens quotes Glapthorne, Wit in a Constable, 1639: "and an alderman as I may say to you, he has no more wit than the rest o' the bench; and that lies in his thumb-ring."

55. No bigger, etc. In other words, no bigger than the stones carved in such an agate. See Much Ado, iii. 1. 65: "If low, an agate very poorly cut." Rings were sometimes worn on the thumb. Steevens quotes Glapthorne, Wit in a Constable, 1639: "and an alderman, as I might say to you, he has no more wit than the rest of the bench; and that lies in his thumb-ring."

57. Atomies. Atoms, or creatures as minute as atoms. Cf. A.Y.L. iii. 2. 245: "to count atomies;" and Id. iii. 5. 13: "Who shut their coward gates on atomies." In 2 Hen. IV. v. 4. 33, Mrs. Quickly confounds the word with anatomy. S. uses it only in these four passages, atom not at all.

57. Atomies. Atoms, or tiny creatures as small as atoms. See A.Y.L. iii. 2. 245: "to count tiny things;" and Id. iii. 5. 13: "Who shut their cowardly gates on tiny things." In 2 Hen. IV. v. 4. 33, Mrs. Quickly mixes up the word with anatomy. S. uses it only in these four instances, atom not appearing at all.

59. Spinners. Long-legged spiders, mentioned also in M.N.D. ii. 2. 21: "Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!"

59. Spinners. Long-legged spiders, also referred to in M.N.D. ii. 2. 21: "So go away, you long-legged spinners!"

65. Worm. Nares says, under idle worms: "Worms bred in idleness. It was supposed, and the notion was probably encouraged for the sake of promoting industry, that when maids were idle, worms bred in their fingers;" and he cites Beaumont and Fletcher, Woman Hater, iii. 1:—

65. Worm. Nares states, under idle worms: "Worms that grow when people are lazy. The idea was likely promoted to encourage hard work, suggesting that when maids were unproductive, worms would develop in their fingers;" and he refers to Beaumont and Fletcher, Woman Hater, iii. 1:—

"Keep thy hands in thy muff and warm the idle
Worms in thy fingers' ends."

67-69. Her chariot ... coachmakers. Daniel puts these lines before 59. Lettsom says: "It is preposterous to speak of the parts of a chariot (such as the waggon-spokes and cover) before mentioning the chariot itself." But chariot here, as the description[Pg 187] shows, means only the body of the vehicle, and is therefore one of the "parts."

67-69. Her chariot ... coachmakers. Daniel includes these lines before 59. Lettsom argues: "It's ridiculous to talk about the parts of a chariot (like the wheel spokes and cover) before discussing the chariot itself." But here, chariot, as the description[Pg 187] indicates, refers only to the body of the vehicle, making it one of the "parts."

76. Sweetmeats. That is, kissing-comfits. These artificial aids to perfume the breath are mentioned by Falstaff, in M.W. v. 5. 22.

76. Sweetmeats. That is, breath mints. These products to freshen your breath are mentioned by Falstaff in M.W. v. 5. 22.

77. A courtier's nose. As this is a repetition, Pope substituted "lawyer's" (from 1st quarto), but this would also be a repetition. Other suggestions are "tailor's" and "counsellor's;" but the carelessness of the description is in perfect keeping with the character. See the comments on the speech p. 290 below.

77. A courtier's nose. Since this is a repeat, Pope replaced "lawyer's" (from the 1st quarto), but that would also be repetitive. Other suggestions include "tailor's" and "counsellor's," but the carelessness of the description matches the character perfectly. Check the comments on the speech on p. 290 below.

79. Sometime. Used by S. interchangeably with sometimes.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Used by S. as sometimes.

84. Ambuscadoes. Ambuscades; used by S. only here. The Spanish blades of Toledo were famous for their quality.

84. Ambuscadoes. Ambushes; only used by S. here. The Spanish blades from Toledo were well-known for their quality.

85. Healths, etc. Malone quotes Westward Hoe, 1607: "troth, sir, my master and sir Goslin are guzzling; they are dabbling together fathom deep. The knight has drunk so much health to the gentleman yonder, upon his knees, that he hath almost lost the use of his legs." Cf. 2 Hen. IV. v. 3. 57:—

85. Healths, etc. Malone cites Westward Hoe, 1607: "Really, sir, my master and sir Goslin are drinking a lot; they’re getting into some serious trouble together. The knight has toasted the gentleman over there so many times, while on his knees, that he can barely stand up." See also 2 Hen. IV. v. 3. 57:—

"Fill the cup, and let it come;
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom."

89. Plats the manes, etc. "This alludes to a very singular superstition not yet forgotten in some parts of the country. It was believed that certain malignant spirits, whose delight was to wander in groves and pleasant places, assumed occasionally the likeness of women clothed in white; that in this character they sometimes haunted stables in the night-time, carrying in their hands tapers of wax, which they dropped on the horses' manes, thereby plaiting them in inextricable knots, to the great annoyance of the poor animals and vexation of their masters. These hags are mentioned in the works of William of Auvergne, bishop of Paris in the 13th century" (Douce).

89. Plats the manes, etc. "This refers to a unique superstition that still lingers in some parts of the country. People believed that certain evil spirits, who enjoyed roaming in groves and pleasant places, sometimes took on the appearance of women dressed in white. In this form, they would occasionally haunt stables at night, carrying wax candles, which they dropped on the horses' manes, resulting in them getting tangled up in impossible knots, much to the distress of the poor animals and the annoyance of their owners. These witches are mentioned in the works of William of Auvergne, bishop of Paris in the 13th century." (Douce).

90. Elf-locks. Hair matted or clotted, either from neglect or from the disease known as the Plica Polonica. Cf. Lear, ii. 3. 10:[Pg 188] "elf all my hair in knots;" and Lodge, Wit's Miserie, 1596: "His haires are curld and full of elves locks."

90. Elf-locks. Hair tangled or matted, either from being neglected or due to the condition known as Plica Polonica. Cf. Lear, ii. 3. 10:[Pg 188] "all my hair in knots;" and Lodge, Wit's Miserie, 1596: "His hair is curled and full of elf locks."

91. Which, etc. The real subject of bodes is which once untangled = the untangling of which.

91. Which, etc. The real subject of bodes is which once untangled = the untangling of which.

97. Who. For which, as often; but here, perhaps, on account of the personification. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 22:—

97. Who. For which, as frequently; but here, maybe, due to the personification. See 2 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 22:—

"the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top."

103. My mind misgives, etc. One of many illustrations of Shakespeare's fondness for presentiments. Cf. ii. 2. 116, iii. 5. 53, 57, etc., below. See also 50 above.

103. My mind misgives, etc. This is one of many examples of Shakespeare's interest in foreshadowing. See references ii. 2. 116, iii. 5. 53, 57, and others below. Also refer to 50 above.

105. Date. Period, duration; as often in S. Cf. R. of L. 935: "To endless date of never-ending woes;" Sonn. 18. 4: "And summer's lease hath all too short a date;" M.N.D. iii. 2. 373: "With league whose date till death shall never end," etc.

105. Date. Time, length; as often seen in literature. See R. of L. 935: "To an endless time of never-ending troubles;" Sonn. 18. 4: "And summer's lease has all too short a time;" M.N.D. iii. 2. 373: "With a bond whose time will never end until death," etc.

106. Expire. The only instance of the transitive use in S. Cf. Spenser, F.Q. iv. 1. 54: "Till time the tryall of her truth expyred."

106. Expire. The only case of the transitive use in S. See Spenser, F.Q. iv. 1. 54: "Until time the test of her truth has ended."

107. Clos'd. Enclosed, shut up. Cf. v. 2. 30 below: "clos'd in a dead man's tomb." See also R. of L. 761, Macb. iii. 1. 99, etc.

107. Clos'd. Enclosed, trapped. Cf. v. 2. 30 below: "closed in a dead man's tomb." See also R. of L. 761, Macb. iii. 1. 99, etc.

111. In the early eds. the stage-direction is "They march about the Stage, and Seruingmen come forth with [or with their] Napkins." This shows that the scene was supposed to be immediately changed to the hall of Capulet's house.

111. In the early edits the stage direction to "They march around the stage, and servants come out with [or with their] napkins." This indicates that the scene was meant to quickly transition to the hall of Capulet's house.

Scene 5.

2. Shift a trencher. "Trenchers [wooden plates] were still used by persons of good fashion in our author's time. In the Household Book of the Earls of Northumberland, compiled at the beginning of the same century, it appears that they were common to the tables of the first nobility" (Percy). To shift a trencher was a technical term. For scrape a trencher, cf. Temp. ii. 2. 187: "Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish."

2. Shift a trencher. "Trays [wooden plates] were still used by fashionable people in our author's time. In the Household Book of the Earls of Northumberland, compiled at the beginning of the same century, it seems they were common on the tables of the highest nobility" (Percy). To shift a trencher was a specific term. For scrape a trencher, see Temp. ii. 2. 187: "Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish."

7. Joint-stools. A kind of folding-chair. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 418, 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 269, etc.

7. Joint-stools. A type of folding chair. See 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 418, 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 269, etc.

8. Court-cupboard. Sideboard. Steevens quotes Chapman, Monsieur D'Olive, 1606: "Here shall stand my court-cupboard with its furniture of plate;" and his May-Day, 1611: "Court-cupboards planted with flaggons, cans, cups, beakers," etc. Cotgrave defines dressoir as "a court-cupboord (without box or drawer), onely to set plate on."

8. Court-cupboard. Sideboard. Steevens quotes Chapman, Monsieur D'Olive, 1606: "Here will be my court cupboard with its collection of silverware;" and his May-Day, 1611: "Court cupboards stocked with flagons, mugs, cups, beakers," etc. Cotgrave defines dressoir as "a court cupboard (without a box or drawer), just for holding plates."

Good thou. For this vocative use of good, cf. Temp. i. 1. 3, 16, 20, C. of E. iv. 4. 22, etc.

Good thou. For this use of good in calling someone out, see Temp. i. 1. 3, 16, 20, C. of E. iv. 4. 22, etc.

9. Marchpane. A kind of almond-cake, much esteemed in the time of S. Nares gives the following from one of the old English receipt-books, Delightes for Ladies, 1608: "To make a marchpane.—Take two poundes of almonds being blanched, and dryed in a sieve over the fire, beate them in a stone mortar, and when they be small mix them with two pounde of sugar beeing finely beaten, adding two or three spoonefuls of rosewater, and that will keep your almonds from oiling: when your paste is beaten fine, drive it thin with a rowling pin, and so lay it on a bottom of wafers, then raise up a little edge on the side, and so bake it, then yce it with rosewater and sugar, then put it in the oven againe, and when you see your yce is risen up and drie, then take it out of the oven and garnish it with pretie conceipts, as birdes and beasts being cast out of standing moldes. Sticke long comfits upright in it, cast bisket and carrowaies in it, and so serve it; guild it before you serve it: you may also print of this marchpane paste in your molds for banqueting dishes. And of this paste our comfit makers at this day make their letters, knots, armes, escutcheons, beasts, birds, and other fancies." Castles and other figures were often made of marchpane, to decorate splendid desserts, and were demolished by shooting or throwing sugar-plums at them. Cf. Beaumont and Fletcher, Faithful Friends, iii. 2:—

9. Marchpane. A type of almond cake, highly valued during the time of S. Nares provides the following from an old English recipe book, Delightes for Ladies, 1608: "To make a marzipan.—Take two pounds of blanched almonds, dried in a sieve over the fire, and grind them in a stone mortar. When they are finely ground, mix them with two pounds of finely powdered sugar, adding two or three tablespoons of rosewater to prevent the almonds from becoming oily. Once your mixture is fine, roll it out thin with a rolling pin, place it on a layer of wafers, create a slight edge around the sides, and bake it. Then ice it with rosewater and sugar, return it to the oven, and when you see the icing has risen and dried, take it out and decorate it with pretty shapes like birds and animals made from molds. Insert long candies upright into it, sprinkle with biscuits and caraway seeds, and serve it; you can gild it before serving. You can also use this marzipan mixture in your molds for banquet dishes. From this mixture, our modern confectioners create letters, knots, coats of arms, escutcheons, animals, birds, and other designs." Castles and other shapes were often made from marzipan to decorate lavish desserts, and they were destroyed by shooting or throwing sugar plums at them. Cf. Beaumont and Fletcher, Faithful Friends, iii. 2:—

"They barr'd their gates,
Which we as easily tore unto the earth
As I this tower of marchpane."

16. Cheerly. Cheerily, briskly. Cf. Temp. i. 1. 6, 29, etc.

16. Cheerly. Happily, energetically. See Temp. i. 1. 6, 29, etc.

16. The longer liver take all. A proverbial expression.

A common saying.

18. Toes. Pope thought it necessary to change this to "feet." Malone remarks that the word "undoubtedly did not appear indelicate to the audience of Shakespeare's time, though perhaps it would not be endured at this day." We smile at this when we recollect some of the words that were endured then; but it shows how fashions change in these matters.

18. Toes. Pope felt it important to change this to "feet." Malone notes that the word "certainly didn't seem inappropriate to Shakespeare's audience, although it might not be accepted today." We chuckle at this when we think of some of the words that were accepted back then; but it highlights how trends evolve over time.

21. Deny. Refuse. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 228: "If you deny to dance;" T. of S. ii. 1. 180: "If she deny to wed," etc. Makes dainty = affects coyness. Cf. K. John, iii. 4. 138:—

21. Deny. Refuse. See L. L. L. v. 2. 228: "If you refuse to dance;" T. of S. ii. 1. 180: "If she refuses to marry," etc. Makes dainty = pretends to be shy. See K. John, iii. 4. 138:—

"And he that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up."

22. Am I come near ye now? Do I touch you, or hit you, now? Cf. 1 Hen IV. i. 2. 14: "Indeed, you come near me now, Hal." Schmidt is clearly wrong in giving T.N. ii. 5. 29 as another example of the phrase in this sense. He might have given T.N. iii. 4. 71.

22. Am I come near ye now? Am I touching you or hitting you now? Cf. 1 Hen IV. i. 2. 14: "Honestly, you're getting close to me now, Hal." Schmidt is definitely mistaken for citing T.N. ii. 5. 29 as another example of the phrase used this way. He could have mentioned T.N. iii. 4. 71.

23. Welcome, gentlemen! Addressed to the masked friends of Romeo.

23. Welcome, gentlemen! Directed to the masked friends of Romeo.

28. A hall, a hall! This exclamation occurs frequently in the old comedies, and is = make room. Cf. Doctor Dodypoll, 1600: "Room! room! a hall! a hall!" and Jonson, Tale of a Tub: "Then cry, a hall! a hall!"

28. A hall, a hall! This shout appears often in old comedies, and means "make room." See Doctor Dodypoll, 1600: "Make room! Make room! A hall! A hall!" and Jonson, Tale of a Tub: "Then shout, 'A hall! A hall!'"

29. Turn the tables up. The tables in that day were flat leaves hinged together and placed on trestles; when removed they were therefore turned up (Steevens).

29. Turn the tables up. Back then, the tables had flat, hinged leaves that were set up on trestles; when taken down, they were flipped upside down (Steevens).

30. The fire. S. appears to have forgotten that the time was in summer. See p. 19 above.

30. The fire. S. seems to have forgotten that it was summer. See p. 19 above.

32. Cousin. The "uncle Capulet" of i. 2. 70. The word was often used loosely = kinsman in S. Cf. iii. 1. 143 below: "Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!"

32. Cousin. The "uncle Capulet" mentioned in i. 2. 70. The term was often used loosely to mean kinsman in Shakespeare's works. See also iii. 1. 143 below: "Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!"

37. Nuptial. The regular form in S. In the 1st folio nuptials occurs only in Per. v. 3. 80.

37. Nuptial. The standard version in S. In the 1st folio nuptials appears only in Per. v. 3. 80.

43. What lady is that, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"At length he saw a mayd, right fayre of perfect shape:
Which Theseus, or Paris would haue chosen to their rape.
Whom erst he neuer sawe, of all she pleasde him most:
Within himselfe he sayd to her, thou iustly mayst thee boste.
Of perfit shapes renoune, and Beauties sounding prayse:
Whose like ne hath, ne shalbe seene, ne liueth in our dayes.
And whilest he fixd on her his partiall perced eye,
His former loue, for which of late he ready was to dye,
Is nowe as quite forgotte, as it had neuer been."

47. Her beauty hangs. The reading of the later folios, adopted by many editors. The quartos and 1st folio have "It seemes she hangs." As Verplanck remarks, it is quite probable that the correction was the poet's own, obtained from some other MS. altered during the poet's life; it is besides confirmed by the repetition of beauty in 49. Delius, who retains it seems, thinks that the boldness of the simile led the poet to introduce it in that way; but it is Romeo who is speaking, and the simile is not over-bold for him. The commentators often err in looking at the text from the "stand-point" of the critic rather than that of the character.

47. Her beauty hangs. The later folios' reading, adopted by many editors, differs from the quartos and the first folio which say "It seems she hangs." As Verplanck notes, it’s quite likely that the correction was made by the poet himself, possibly taken from another manuscript that was revised during the poet's lifetime; it’s further supported by the repeated use of beauty in 49. Delius, who keeps it seems, argues that the boldness of the metaphor led the poet to phrase it that way; however, it’s Romeo speaking, and the comparison isn’t too bold for him. Commentators often make mistakes by viewing the text from the critic's perspective rather than that of the character.

48. Ethiope's ear. For the simile, cf. Sonn. 27. 11: "Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night," etc. Holt White quotes Lyly, Euphues: "A fair pearl in a Morian's ear."

48. Ethiope's ear. For the simile, see Sonn. 27. 11: "Which, like a jewel hung in a scary night," etc. Holt White quotes Lyly, Euphues: "A beautiful pearl in a Moor's ear."

55. I ne'er saw, etc. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 75:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Cf. Henry VIII i. 4. 75:—

"The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
Till now I never knew thee!"

57. What dares, etc. How dares, or why dares, etc. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 129: "What tell you me of it? be it as it is;" A. and C. v. 2. 316: "What should I stay?" etc.

57. What dares, etc. How dare they, or why do they dare, etc. See 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 129: "What are you telling me about it? Let it be as it is;" A. and C. v. 2. 316: "Why should I wait?" etc.

58. Antic face. Referring to Romeo's mask. Cf. ii. 4. 29 below.

58. Antic face. Talking about Romeo's mask. See ii. 4. 29 below.

59. Fleer. Sneer, mock; as in Much Ado, v. 1. 58, etc. For[Pg 192] scorn at, cf. A.Y.L. iii. 5. 131, K. John, i. 1. 228, etc. We find scorn without the preposition in L. L. L. iv. 3. 147: "How will he scorn!" Solemnity here expresses only the idea of ceremony, or formal observance. Cf. the use of solemn = ceremonious, formal; as in Macb. iii. 1. 14: "To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir;" T. of S. iii. 2. 103: "our solemn festival," etc. Hunter quotes Harrington, Ariosto:—

59. Fleer. Sneer, mock; as in Much Ado, v. 1. 58, etc. For[Pg 192] scorn at, see A.Y.L. iii. 5. 131, K. John, i. 1. 228, etc. We see scorn used without the preposition in L. L. L. iv. 3. 147: "How will he scorn!" Solemnity here refers to the idea of ceremony or formal observance. See the use of solemn = ceremonious, formal; as in Macb. iii. 1. 14: "Tonight we’re having a solemn supper, sir;" T. of S. iii. 2. 103: "our solemn festival," etc. Hunter quotes Harrington, Ariosto:—

"Nor never did young lady brave and bright
Like dancing better on a solemn day."

64. In spite. In malice; or, as Schmidt explains it, "only to defy and provoke us." Cf. i. 1. 75 above.

64. In spite. In bad intent; or, as Schmidt puts it, "just to challenge and annoy us." See i. 1. 75 above.

67. Content thee. "Compose yourself, keep your temper" (Schmidt). Cf. Much Ado, v. 1. 87, T. of S. i. 1. 90, 203, ii. 1. 343, etc. So be contented; as in M.W. iii. 3. 177, Lear, iii, 4. 115, etc.

67. Content thee. "Calm down, control your anger" (Schmidt). See Much Ado, v. 1. 87, T. of S. i. 1. 90, 203, ii. 1. 343, etc. So be happy; as in M.W. iii. 3. 177, Lear, iii, 4. 115, etc.

68. Portly. The word here seems to mean simply "well-behaved, well-bred," though elsewhere it has the modern sense; as in M.W. i. 3. 69: "my portly belly;" 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 464: "A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent," etc.

68. Portly. The word here seems to just mean "well-behaved, well-bred," although in other contexts it has the modern meaning; as in M.W. i. 3. 69: "my big belly;" 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 464: "A good big man, I swear, and overweight," etc.

72. Do him disparagement. Do him injury. Cf. "do danger" (J.C. ii. 1. 17), "do our country loss" (Hen. V. iv. 3. 21), "do him shame" (R. of L. 597, Sonn. 36. 10, L. L. L. iv. 3. 204), etc. See also iii. 3. 118 below.

72. Do him disparagement. Cause him harm. See "cause danger" (J.C. ii. 1. 17), "cause our country loss" (Hen. V. iv. 3. 21), "bring him shame" (R. of L. 597, Sonn. 36. 10, L. L. L. iv. 3. 204), etc. See also iii. 3. 118 below.

77. It fits. Cf. A.W. ii. 1. 147: "where hope is coldest, and despair most fits," etc.

77. It fits. Cf. A.W. ii. 1. 147: "where hope is at its lowest, and despair is most appropriate," etc.

81. God shall mend my soul! Cf. A.Y.L. iv. 1. 193: "By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous," etc. See also 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 255.

81. God shall mend my soul! Cf. A.Y.L. iv. 1. 193: "Honestly, and seriously, and may God help me, and by all the nice promises that are harmless," etc. See also 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 255.

83. Cock-a-hoop. "Of doubtful origin" (New. Eng. Dict.), though the meaning is clear. Set cock-a-hoop = play the bully. S. uses the word only here.

83. Cock-a-hoop. "Of uncertain origin" (New. Eng. Dict.), but the meaning is straightforward. Set cock-a-hoop = act like a bully. S. only uses this term here.

86. Scathe. Injure. S. uses the verb nowhere else; but cf. the noun in K. John, ii. 1. 75: "To do offence and scathe in Christendom;"[Pg 193] Rich. III. i. 3. 317: "To pray for them that have done scathe to us," etc.

86. Scathe. Harm. S. doesn't use the verb anywhere else; but see the noun in K. John, ii. 1. 75: "To cause offense and damage in Christendom;"[Pg 193] Rich. III. i. 3. 317: "To pray for those who have harmed us," etc.

87. Contrary. Oppose, cross; the only instance of the verb in S. Steevens quotes Greene, Tully's Love: "to contrary her resolution;" Warner, Albion's England: "his countermand should have contraried so," etc. The accent in S. is variable. Cf. the adjective in iii. 2. 64 below.

87. Contrary. Disagree, oppose; the only occurrence of the verb in S. Steevens cites Greene, Tully's Love: "to go against her decision;" Warner, Albion's England: "his cancellation should have opposed so," etc. The emphasis in S. is not consistent. See the adjective in iii. 2. 64 below.

88. Well said. Well done. Cf. Oth. ii. 1. 169, v. 1. 98, etc. Princox = a pert or impertinent boy; used by S. only here. Steevens quotes The Return from Parnassus, 1606: "Your proud university princox." Cotgrave renders "un jeune estourdeau superbe" by "a young princox boy."

88. Well said. Good job. Cf. Oth. ii. 1. 169, v. 1. 98, etc. Princox = a cheeky or disrespectful boy; used by S. only here. Steevens quotes The Return from Parnassus, 1606: "Your arrogant university brat." Cotgrave translates "un jeune estourdeau superbe" as "a young cheeky boy."

Coleridge remarks here: "How admirable is the old man's impetuosity, at once contrasting, yet harmonized with young Tybalt's quarrelsome violence! But it would be endless to repeat observations of this sort. Every leaf is different on an oak-tree; but still we can only say, our tongues defrauding our eyes, This is another oak leaf!"

Coleridge points out here: "How impressive is the old man's impulsiveness, which contrasts yet blends with young Tybalt's aggressive nature! But it would take forever to make these kinds of remarks. Every leaf on an oak tree is different; but we can only say, our words misleading our eyes, This is another oak leaf!"

91. Patience perforce. Compulsory submission; a proverbial expression. Nares quotes Ray's Proverbs: "Patience perforce is a medicine for a mad dog" (or "a mad horse," as Howell gives it). Cf. Spenser, F.Q. ii. 3. 3:—

91. Patience perforce. Required submission; a saying. Nares quotes Ray's Proverbs: "Patience by necessity is a cure for a mad dog" (or "a mad horse," as Howell puts it). Cf. Spenser, F.Q. ii. 3. 3:—

"Patience perforce: helplesse what may it boot
To frett for anger, or for griefe to mone?"

94. Convert. For the intransitive use, cf. R. of L. 592, Much Ado, i. 1. 123, Rich. II. v. 1. 66, v. 3. 64, etc. Some make it transitive, with now seeming sweet (= "what now seems sweet") as its object; but this seems too forced a construction.

94. Convert. For the intransitive use, see R. of L. 592, Much Ado, i. 1. 123, Rich. II. v. 1. 66, v. 3. 64, etc. Some interpret it as transitive, with now seeming sweet (= "what now seems sweet") as its object; however, this feels like a bit of a stretch.

96. The gentle fine. The sweet penance for the offence; that is, for the rude touch of my hand. For fine the early eds. have "sin" or "sinne." The emendation is due to Warburton; but some editors retain "sin."

96. The gentle fine. The gentle punishment for the offense; that is, for the harsh touch of my hand. The early editions have "sin" or "sinne" instead of "fine." The change was made by Warburton, but some editors keep "sin."

105. Let lips do, etc. Juliet has said that palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. She afterwards says that palmers have lips that they must use in prayer. Romeo replies that the prayer of his lips is that they may do what hands do, that is, that they may kiss.

105. Let lips do, etc. Juliet says that the kiss of two people touching palms is a holy kiss. She later mentions that people on a pilgrimage have lips they should use in prayer. Romeo responds that the prayer of his lips is for them to do what hands do, which is to kiss.

109. As Malone remarks, kissing in a public assembly was not then thought indecorous. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 28.

109. As Malone remarks, kissing in a public gathering was not considered inappropriate back then. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 28.

White remarks: "I have never seen a Juliet on the stage who appeared to appreciate the archness of the dialogue with Romeo in this scene. They go through it solemnly, or at best with staid propriety. They reply literally to all Romeo's speeches about saints and palmers. But it should be noticed that though this is the first interview of the lovers, we do not hear them speak until the close of their dialogue, in which they have arrived at a pretty thorough understanding of their mutual feeling. Juliet makes a feint of parrying Romeo's advances, but does it archly, and knows that he is to have the kiss he sues for. He asks, 'Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?' The stage Juliet answers with literal solemnity. But it was not a conventicle at old Capulet's. Juliet was not holding forth. How demure is her real answer: 'Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use—in prayer!' And when Romeo fairly gets her into the corner, towards which she has been contriving to be driven, and he says, 'Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd,' and does put them to that purgation, how slyly the pretty puss gives him the opportunity to repeat the penance by replying, 'Then have my lips the sin that they have took!'"

White remarks: "I've never seen a Juliet on stage who truly seems to get the playful banter in this scene with Romeo. They usually deliver it seriously, or at best with a stiff propriety. They respond literally to all of Romeo's lines about saints and palmers. But it's worth noting that although this is the lovers' first meeting, we don't hear them speak until the end of their dialogue, where they've reached a pretty good understanding of their feelings for each other. Juliet pretends to deflect Romeo's advances, but she does it playfully, knowing he's going to get the kiss he’s asking for. He asks, 'Don't saints have lips, and holy palmers too?' The stage Juliet answers with a literal seriousness. But old Capulet's house wasn't a place for a sermon. Juliet isn't preaching. Her true response is so demure: 'Yeah, pilgrim, lips that they must use—in prayer!' And when Romeo finally corners her, which she's been trying to get to, and says, 'Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged,' and then kisses her, how cleverly the cute girl gives him a chance to repeat the penance by replying, 'Then have my lips the sin that they have taken!'"

114. What. Who; as often. Cf. 130 below.

114. What. Who; as often. Cf. 130 below.

119. Shall have the chinks. This seems much like modern slang. S. uses it only here; but Tusser (Husbandry, 1573) has both chink and chinks in this sense, and the word is found also in Florio, Cotgrave, Holinshed, Stanihurst, and other old writers.

119. Shall have the chinks. This feels a lot like today's slang. S. uses it only here; however, Tusser (Husbandry, 1573) includes both chink and chinks in this way, and the term is also found in Florio, Cotgrave, Holinshed, Stanihurst, and other old authors.

120. My life, etc. "He means that, as bereft of Juliet he should die, his existence is at the mercy of his enemy, Capulet" (Staunton). Cf. Brooke:[Pg 195]

120. My life, etc. "He means that, without Juliet, he feels he would die; his life is controlled by his enemy, Capulet" (Staunton). Cf. Brooke:[Pg 195]

"So hath he learnd her name, and knowth she is no geast.
Her father was a Capilet, and master of the feast.
Thus hath his foe in choyse to geue him lyfe or death:
That scarsely can his wofull brest keepe in the liuely breath."

124. Foolish. A mere repetition of the apologetic trifling. Banquet sometimes meant a dessert, as here and in T. of S. v. 2. 9:—

124. Foolish. Just a repeat of the apologetic trifling. Banquet sometimes referred to dessert, like here and in T. of S. v. 2. 9:—

"My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
After our great good cheer."

Nares quotes Massinger, Unnatural Combat:—

Nares cites Massinger, Unnatural Combat:—

"We'll dine in the great room, but let the music
And banquet be prepared here;"

and Taylor, Pennilesse Pilgrim: "our first and second course being threescore dishes at one boord, and after that alwayes a banquet." Towards = ready, at hand (Steevens). So toward; as in M.N.D. iii. 1. 81: "What, a play toward!"

and Taylor, Pennilesse Pilgrim: "our first and second course consisting of sixty dishes at one table, and after that always a banquet." Towards = ready, at hand (Steevens). So toward; as in M.N.D. iii. 1. 81: "What, a play coming up!"

125. Is it e'en so? The 1st quarto has here the stage-direction: "They whisper in his eare;" that is, whisper the reason of their departure.

125. Is it e'en so? The 1st quarto has the stage direction here: "They whisper in his ear;" meaning they whisper the reason for their departure.

128. By my fay. That is, by my faith. Cf. Ham. ii. 2. 271, etc.

128. By my fay. That is, I swear. Cf. Ham. ii. 2. 271, etc.

130. Come hither, nurse, etc. Cf. Brooke:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Cf. Brooke:—

"As carefull was the mayde what way were best deuise
To learne his name, that intertaind her in so gentle wise.
Of whome her hart receiued so deepe, so wyde a wound,
An aucient dame she calde to her, and in her eare gan rounde.[5]
This old dame in her youth, had nurst her with her mylke,
With slender nedle taught her sow, and how to spin with silke.
What twayne are those (quoth she) which prease vnto the doore,
Whose pages in theyr hand doe beare, two toorches light before.
And then as eche of them had of his household name,
So she him namde yet once agayne the yong and wyly dame.
And tell me who is he with vysor in his hand
[Pg 196]
That yender doth in masking weede besyde the window stand.
His name is Romeus (said shee) a Montegewe.
Whose fathers pryde first styrd the strife which both your householdes rewe."

136. If he be married, etc. "Uttered to herself while the Nurse makes inquiry" (Dowden). Married is here a trisyllable.

136. If he be married, etc. "Said to herself while the Nurse asks questions" (Dowden). Married is pronounced with three syllables here.

142. Prodigious. Portentous. Cf. M.N.D. v. 1. 419, K. John, iii. 1. 46, Rich. III. i. 2. 23, etc.

142. Prodigious. Ominous. See M.N.D. v. 1. 419, K. John, iii. 1. 46, Rich. III. i. 2. 23, etc.


ACT II

Enter Chorus. This is generally put at the end of act i., but, as it refers to the future, rather than the past, it may be regarded as a prologue to act ii. There is no division of acts or scenes in the early eds.

Enter Chorus. This is typically placed at the end of act i, but since it relates to the future rather than the past, it can be seen as a prologue to act ii. The early editions do not have any divisions of acts or scenes.

2. Gapes. Rushton quotes Swinburn, Briefe Treatise of Testaments and Last Willes, 1590: "such personnes as do gape for greater bequests;" and again: "It is an impudent part still to gape and crie upon the testator."

2. Gapes. Rushton quotes Swinburn, Briefe Treatise of Testaments and Last Wills, 1590: "people who are greedy for larger inheritances;" and again: "It's shameless to keep begging and whining to the testator."

3. On the repetition of for, cf. A.W. i. 2. 29: "But on us both did haggish age steal on;" Cor. ii. 1. 18: "In what enormity is Marcius poor in?" etc. Fair = fair one; as in M.N.D. i. 1. 182, etc.

3. On the repetition of for, cf. A.W. i. 2. 29: "But time has taken its toll on both of us;" Cor. ii. 1. 18: "In what great fault is Marcius lacking?" etc. Fair = beautiful person; as in M.N.D. i. 1. 182, etc.

10. Use. Are accustomed. We still use the past tense of the verb in this sense, but not the present. Cf. Temp. ii. 1. 175: "they always use to laugh at nothing;" T.N. ii. 5. 104: "with which she uses to seal;" A. and C. ii. 5. 32: "we use To say the dead are well," etc. See also Milton, Lycidas, 67: "Were it not better done, as others use," etc.

10. Use. Are accustomed. We still use the past tense of the verb in this context, but not the present. See Temp. ii. 1. 175: "they always used to laugh at nothing;" T.N. ii. 5. 104: "with which she used to seal;" A. and C. ii. 5. 32: "we used to say the dead are well," etc. Also refer to Milton, Lycidas, 67: "Would it not be better done, as others do," etc.

14. Extremities. That is, extreme difficulties or dangers.

14. Extremities. In other words, serious challenges or risks.


Scene 1.

2. Dull earth. "Romeo's epithet for his small world of man, the earthlier portion of himself" (Clarke). Cf. Sonn. 146. 1: "Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth."

2. Dull earth. "Romeo's description of his limited human experience, the more physical side of himself" (Clarke). Cf. Sonn. 146. 1: "Poor soul, the center of my sinful world."

5. Orchard. That is, garden; the only meaning in S.

5. Orchard. In other words, garden; that's the only meaning in S.

6. Conjure. Accented by S. on either syllable, without regard to the meaning.

6. Conjure. Emphasized by S. on both syllables, regardless of the meaning.

7. Humours! Fancies, caprices. Some read "Humour's madman! Passion-lover!" See on 29 below.

7. Humours! Whims, fancies. Some interpret it as "The crazy one of humor! The one who loves passionately!" See 29 below.

10. Ay me! Often changed here and elsewhere to "Ah me!" which occurs in the old eds. of S. only in v. 1. 10 below. Ay me! is found thirty or more times. Milton also uses it often.

10. Ay me! Often altered here and in other places to "Ah me!" which appears in the early editions of S. only in v. 1. 10 below. Ay me! appears thirty times or more. Milton also uses it frequently.

11. My gossip Venus. Cf. M. of V. iii. 1. 7: "if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word."

11. My gossip Venus. Cf. M. of V. iii. 1. 7: "if my friend Report is a trustworthy person."

13. Young Abraham Cupid. The 2d and 3d quartos have "Abraham: Cupid;" the other early eds. "Abraham Cupid." Upton conjectured "Adam Cupid," with an allusion to the famous archer, Adam Bell, and was followed by Steevens and others. Theobald suggested "auborn," and it has since been shown that abraham, abram, aborne, aborn, abron, aubrun, etc., were all forms of the word now written auburn. In Cor. ii. 3. 21 the 1st, 2d, and 3d folios read: "our heads are some browne, some blacke, some Abram, some bald;" the 4th folio changes "Abram" to "auburn." In T.G. of V. iv. 4. 194, the folio has "Her haire is Aburne, mine is perfect Yellow." These are the only instances of the word in S. "Auburn" is adopted by a few editors, and is explained as = "auburn-haired," but that surely is no nickname. Schmidt understands "Young Abraham Cupid" to be used "in derision of the eternal boyhood of Cupid, though in fact he was at least as old as father Abraham." Cf. L. L. L. iii. 1. 182: "This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;" and Id. v. 2. 10: "For he hath been five thousand years a boy." Furness in his Variorum ed. gives "Adam," but he now prefers "Abraham" = the young counterfeit, with his sham make-up, pretending to be purblind and yet shooting so trim. He thinks the allusion to the beggar-maid also favours this explanation. Abraham-man, originally applied to a mendicant lunatic from Bethlehem Hospital, London, came to be a cant term for an impostor wandering about and asking alms under pretence[Pg 198] of lunacy. Herford says that "Adam" is made almost certain by Much Ado, i. 1. 260; but it is by no means certain that the allusion there is to Adam Bell, as he assumes.

13. Young Abraham Cupid. The 2nd and 3rd quartos have "Abraham: Cupid;" the other early editions say "Abraham Cupid." Upton guessed "Adam Cupid," referencing the famous archer, Adam Bell, and was followed by Steevens and others. Theobald proposed "auburn," and it has since been shown that abraham, abram, aborne, aborn, abron, aubrun, etc., were all variations of the word now spelled auburn. In Cor. ii. 3. 21, the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd folios read: "our heads are some browne, some blacke, some Abram, some bald;" the 4th folio changes "Abram" to "auburn." In T.G. of V. iv. 4. 194, the folio has "Her hair is Aburne, mine is perfect Yellow." These are the only instances of the word in S. "Auburn" is used by a few editors and is defined as "auburn-haired," but that surely is no nickname. Schmidt interprets "Young Abraham Cupid" to be used "in derision of the eternal boyhood of Cupid, even though he was at least as old as father Abraham." Cf. L. L. L. iii. 1. 182: "This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;" and Id. v. 2. 10: "For he hath been five thousand years a boy." Furness in his Variorum ed. gives "Adam," but he now prefers "Abraham" = the young imposter, with his fake appearance, pretending to be purblind and yet shooting so trim. He believes the reference to the beggar-maid also supports this interpretation. Abraham-man, originally used to refer to a wandering lunatic from Bethlehem Hospital in London, became a slang term for a con artist strolling around asking for money while pretending to be insane. Herford argues that "Adam" is almost certainly indicated by Much Ado, i. 1. 260; but it is by no means certain that the reference there is to Adam Bell, as he assumes.

Trim. The reading of 1st quarto; the other early eds. have "true." That the former is the right word is evident from the ballad of King Cophetua and the Beggar-Maid (see Percy's Reliques), in which we read:—

Trim. The reading of the first quarto; other early editions use "true." It's clear that the former is the correct word based on the ballad of King Cophetua and the Beggar-Maid (see Percy's Reliques), where we find:—

"The blinded boy that shoots so trim
From heaven down did hie,
He drew a dart and shot at him,
In place where he did lie."

For other allusions to the ballad, see L. L. L. iv. 1. 66 and 2 Hen. IV. v. 3. 106.

For other references to the ballad, see L. L. L. iv. 1. 66 and 2 Hen. IV. v. 3. 106.

16. Ape. As Malone notes, ape, like fool (see on i. 3. 31 above), was sometimes used as a term of endearment or pity. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 234: "Alas, poor ape, how thou sweatest!"

16. Ape. As Malone points out, ape, similar to fool (see i. 3. 31 above), was occasionally used as a term of affection or sympathy. See 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 234: "Oh no, poor ape, how you’re sweating!"

22. Circle. Alluding to the ring drawn by magicians. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 5. 62: "a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle." See also Hen. V. v. 2. 320.

22. Circle. Referring to the circle created by magicians. See A.Y.L. ii. 5. 62: "a Greek call to gather fools into a circle." Also refer to Hen. V. v. 2. 320.

25. Spite. Vexation. Cf. i. 5. 64 above.

25. Spite. Annoyance. See i. 5. 64 above.

29. Humorous. Humid. Delius (like Schmidt) sees a quibble in the word: "moist and capricious, full of such humours as characterize lovers, and as whose personification Mercutio had just conjured Romeo under the collective name humours."

29. Humorous. Humid. Delius (like Schmidt) finds a play on words in: "moist and capricious, filled with the kinds of emotions that define lovers, which Mercutio had just referred to when he conjured Romeo under the shared term humours."

32. Truckle-bed. Trundle-bed; one made to run under a "standing-bed," as it was called. Cf. M.W. iv. 5. 7: "his standing-bed and truckle-bed." The former was for the master, the latter for the servant. Mercutio uses the term in sport, and adds a quibble on field-bed, which was a camp-bed, or a bed on the ground.

32. Truckle-bed. A trundle bed; one designed to slide under a "standing bed," as it was called. See M.W. iv. 5. 7: "his standing bed and trundle bed." The former was for the master, the latter for the servant. Mercutio uses the term jokingly and makes a play on field bed, which was a camp bed or a bed on the ground.


Scene 2.

1. He jests, etc. Referring to Mercutio, whom he has overheard, as the rhyme in found and wound indicates. The[Pg 199] Cambridge ed. suggests that in the old arrangement of the scene the wall may have been represented as dividing the stage, so that the audience could see Romeo on one side and Mercutio on the other. Mr. F.A. Marshall thinks that Romeo "merely stepped to the back of the stage at the beginning of the scene, and was supposed to be concealed from the others, not coming out till they had gone. Juliet would appear on the 'upper stage' [the balcony at the back of the Elizabethan stage], which did duty in the old plays for so many purposes."

1. He jests, etc. Referring to Mercutio, whom he has overheard, as the rhyme in found and wound shows. The[Pg 199] Cambridge edition suggests that in the old setup of the scene, the wall may have divided the stage, allowing the audience to see Romeo on one side and Mercutio on the other. Mr. F.A. Marshall believes that Romeo "just stepped to the back of the stage at the start of the scene, and was supposed to be hidden from the others, not coming out until they had left. Juliet would appear on the 'upper stage' [the balcony at the back of the Elizabethan stage], which served many purposes in the old plays."

7. Be not her maid. Be not a votary to the moon, or Diana (Johnson). Cf. M.N.D. i. 1. 73.

7. Be not her maid. Don't worship the moon or Diana (Johnson). Cf. M.N.D. i. 1. 73.

8. Sick. The 1st quarto has "pale," which is adopted by some editors. It has been objected that sick and green is a strange combination of colours in a livery; but it is rather the effect of the colours that is meant. Cf. T.N. ii. 4. 116: "with a green and yellow melancholy." Perhaps, as Dowden remarks, the word green-sickness (see iii. 5. 155) suggested the epithets.

8. Sick. The first quarto uses "pale," which some editors have chosen to keep. It has been pointed out that sick and green is an unusual mix of colors for a uniform; however, it’s more about the effect these colors have. See T.N. ii. 4. 116: "with a green and yellow melancholy." Maybe, as Dowden notes, the term green-sickness (see iii. 5. 155) inspired these descriptive words.

29. White-upturned. So Theobald and most of the editors. The early eds. have "white, upturned," which Marshall prefers as better expressing "the appearance of an upturned eye by moonlight."

29. White-upturned. So Theobald and most of the editors. The early editions have "white, upturned," which Marshall thinks is better at showing "the look of an upturned eye in the moonlight."

39. Thou art thyself, etc. That is, you would be yourself, or what you now are, even if you were not a Montague; just "as a rose is a rose—has all its characteristic sweetness and beauty—though it be not called a rose" (White). The thought is repeated below in So Romeo would ... that title. The passage would not call for explanation if critics had not been puzzled by it.

39. Thou art thyself, etc. In other words, you would still be yourself, or who you are now, even if you weren't a Montague; just like "a rose is a rose—retaining all its unique sweetness and beauty—even if it’s not called a rose" (White). This idea is echoed later in So Romeo would ... that title. This passage wouldn't need clarification if critics hadn't found it confusing.

46. Owes. Possesses; as very often. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 2. 79, Macb. i. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, iii. 4. 113, etc.

46. Owes. Has; as is frequently the case. See M.N.D. ii. 2. 79, Macb. i. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, iii. 4. 113, etc.

52. Bescreen'd. Used by S. only here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Used by S. only here.

58. Yet not. A common transposition. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 3. 46: "his powers are yet not ready;" Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 204: "full sick, and yet not well;" Cor. i. 5. 18: "My work hath yet not warm'd me," etc.

58. Yet not. A typical switch-up. See Hen. V. iii. 3. 46: "his powers are still not ready;" Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 204: "really sick, and yet not well;" Cor. i. 5. 18: "My work has still not warmed me," etc.

61. Dislike. Displease. Cf. Oth. ii. 3. 49: "I'll do 't; but it dislikes me." So like = please; as in Ham. v. 2. 276: "This likes me well," etc.

61. Dislike. Upset. See Oth. ii. 3. 49: "I'll do it; but it bothers me." So like = please; as in Ham. v. 2. 276: "This makes me happy," etc.

62. Wherefore. For the accent on the last syllable, cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 272: "Hate me! Wherefore? O me! what news, my love!"

62. Wherefore. For the emphasis on the last syllable, see M.N.D. iii. 2. 272: "Hate me! Why? Oh no! What news, my love!"

66. O'er-perch. Used by S. nowhere else.

66. O'er-perch. Not found anywhere else in S.

69. Let. Hindrance; as in R. of L. 330, 646, and Hen. V. v. 2. 65. Cf. the verb in Ham. i. 4. 85, etc.

69. Let. Obstacle; as in R. of L. 330, 646, and Hen. V. v. 2. 65. See the verb in Ham. i. 4. 85, etc.

78. Prorogued. Delayed; as in iv. 1. 48 below. On wanting of, cf. v. 1. 40 below: "Culling of simples."

78. Prorogued. Delayed; as in iv. 1. 48 below. On wanting of, see v. 1. 40 below: "Gathering of herbs."

83. As that vast shore, etc. Possibly suggested, as some have thought, by the voyages of Drake and other explorers to America about the time when S. was writing.

83. As that vast shore, etc. This might have been inspired, as some believe, by the journeys of Drake and other explorers to America around the time S. was writing.

84. Adventure. Venture, try the chance. Cf. Cymb. iii. 4. 156:—

84. Adventure. Take a risk, give it a shot. Cf. Cymb. iii. 4. 156:—

"Oh for such tools!"
Though peril to my modesty, not death on 't,
I would adventure."

89. Farewell compliment! Away with formality! The early eds. have "complement" or "complements," as in ii. 4. 19 below and elsewhere.

89. Farewell compliment! Forget about formality! The early editions say "complement" or "complements," as seen in ii. 4. 19 below and in other places.

93. At lovers' perjuries, etc. Douce remarks that S. found this in Ovid's Art of Love—perhaps in Marlowe's translation:—

93. At lovers' perjuries, etc. Douce notes that S. discovered this in Ovid's Art of Love—possibly in Marlowe's translation:—

"For Jove himself sits in the azure skies,
And laughs below at lovers' perjuries."

Cf. Greene, Metamorphosis: "What! Eriphila, Jove laughs at the perjurie of lovers."

Cf. Greene, Metamorphosis: "What! Eriphila, Jupiter laughs at the betrayal of lovers."

99. Haviour. Not "'haviour," as often printed. It is found in North's Plutarch and other prose.

99. Haviour. Not "behavior," as is often printed. It's found in North's Plutarch and other writings.

101. To be strange. To appear coy or shy. Cf. iii. 2. 15 below: "strange love" (that is, coy love).

101. To be strange. To seem coy or shy. See iii. 2. 15 below: "strange love" (meaning, coy love).

103. Ware. See on i. 1. 121 above.

103. Ware. Refer to i. 1. 121 above.

106. Discovered. Revealed, betrayed. Cf. iii. 1. 145 below, where it is = tell, explain.

106. Discovered. Uncovered, deceived. See iii. 1. 145 below, where it means = tell, explain.

109. The inconstant moon. Cf. M. for M. iii. 1. 25:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See M. for M. iii. 1. 25:—

"For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
After the moon."

See also L. L. L. v. 2. 212, Lear, v. 3. 19, and Oth. iii. 3. 178. Hunter quotes Wilson, Retorique, 1553: "as in speaking of constancy, to shew the sun who ever keepeth one course; in speaking of inconstancy, to shew the moon which keepeth no certain course."

See also L. L. L. v. 2. 212, Lear, v. 3. 19, and Oth. iii. 3. 178. Hunter quotes Wilson, Retorique, 1553: "when talking about constancy, to show the sun that always follows the same path; when talking about inconstancy, to show the moon which has no fixed path."

116. Do not swear. Coleridge remarks here: "With love, pure love, there is always an anxiety for the safety of the object, a disinterestedness by which it is distinguished from the counterfeits of its name. Compare this scene with the Temp. iii. 1. I do not know a more wonderful instance of Shakespeare's mastery in playing a distinctly rememberable variation on the same remembered air than in the transporting love-confessions of Romeo and Juliet and Ferdinand and Miranda. There seems more passion in the one, and more dignity in the other; yet you feel that the sweet girlish lingering and busy movement of Juliet, and the calmer and more maidenly fondness of Miranda, might easily pass into each other."

116. Do not swear. Coleridge notes here: "With pure love, there’s always a worry about the safety of the loved one, a selflessness that sets it apart from its imitations. Compare this scene with Temp. iii. 1. I haven’t come across a better example of Shakespeare's skill in presenting a memorable twist on the same familiar tune than in the heartfelt love declarations of Romeo and Juliet and Ferdinand and Miranda. There seems to be more passion in one, and more dignity in the other; yet you can sense how the sweet, girlish hesitation and lively actions of Juliet could easily blend into the calmer, more demure affection of Miranda."

117. Contract. Accented by S. on either syllable, as suits the measure. The verb is always contráct. See also on i. 4. 103 above.

117. Contract. Emphasized by S. on either syllable, as fits the rhythm. The verb is always contract. See also on i. 4. 103 above.

119. Like the lightning, etc. Cf. M.N.D. i. 1. 145:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Cf. M.N.D. i. 1. 145:—

"Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up;
So quick bright things come to confusion."

124. As that, etc. As to that heart, etc.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. About that heart, etc.

131. Frank. Bountiful; repeated in bounty. Cf. Sonn. 4. 4:—

131. Frank. Abundant; mentioned again in bounty. See Sonn. 4. 4:—

"Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free;"

and Lear, iii. 4. 20: "Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all."

and Lear, iii. 4. 20: "Your loving old father, whose open heart gave everything."

139. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid (v. 3. 10 below).

139. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid (v. 3. 10 below).

141. Substantial. Metrically a quadrisyllable.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Four-syllable word.

142. Three words, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"In few vnfained woords your hidden mynd vnfolde,
That as I see your pleasant face, your heart I may beholde.
For if you doe intende my honor to defile:
In error shall you wander still, as you haue done this whyle,
But if your thought be chaste, and haue on vertue ground,
If wedlocke be the ende and marke which your desire hath found:
Obedience set aside, vnto my parentes dewe:
The quarell eke that long agoe betwene our housholdes grewe:
Both me and myne I will all whole to you betake:
And following you where so you goe, my fathers house forsake."

143. Bent. Inclination; as in J.C. ii. 1. 210: "I can give his humour the true bent," etc.

143. Bent. Preference; as in J.C. ii. 1. 210: "I can shape his mood the right way," etc.

144. Send me word to-morrow, etc. This seems rather sudden at first glance, but her desire for immediate marriage is due, partially at least, to what she has just learned (i. 3) of the plan to marry her to Paris.

144. Send me word to-morrow, etc. This seems pretty sudden at first, but her eagerness to get married right away is partly because of what she just found out (i. 3) about the plan to marry her off to Paris.

151. Madam! This forms no part of the verse, and might well enough be separated from it, like the Juliet in i. 5. 145 above. By and by = presently; as in iii. 1. 173 and iii. 3. 76 below.

151. Madam! This isn't part of the verse and could easily be separated from it, like the Juliet in i. 5. 145 above. By and by = soon; as in iii. 1. 173 and iii. 3. 76 below.

152. Suit. The reading of 4th ("sute") and 5th quartos; the other early eds. have "strife." The expression "To cease your sute" occurs in Brooke's poem, a few lines below the passage just quoted.

152. Suit. The reading of the 4th ("sute") and 5th quartos; the other early editions have "strife." The phrase "To cease your sute" appears in Brooke's poem, just a few lines below the passage mentioned.

153. To-morrow. "In the alternative which she places before her lover with such a charming mixture of conscious delicacy and girlish simplicity, there is that jealousy of female honour which precept and education have infused into her mind, without one real doubt of his truth, or the slightest hesitation in her self-abandonment;[Pg 203] for she does not even wait to hear his asseverations" (Mrs. Jameson).

153. To-morrow. "In the alternative she presents to her lover, blending conscious delicacy with girlish simplicity, there's a jealousy about female honor that her upbringing has instilled in her. She has no real doubts about his honesty or any hesitation in throwing herself into the relationship; [Pg 203] she doesn't even wait to hear his assurances" (Mrs. Jameson).

157. Toward school, etc. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 7. 145:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 7. 145:—

"And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school."

160. Tassel-gentle. The tassel-gentle or tercel-gentle is the male hawk. Dyce quotes Cotgrave, Fr. Dict.: "Tiercelet. The Tassell or male of any kind of Hawke, so tearmed, because he is, commonly, a third part less than the female;" and Holmes, Academy of Armory: "Tiercell, Tercell, or Tassell is the general name for the Male of all large Hawks." Malone says that the tiercel-gentle was the species of hawk appropriated to the prince, and thinks that on that account Juliet applies it to Romeo. We find tercel in T. and C. iii. 2. 56: "The falcon as the tercel." The hawk was trained to know and obey the falconer's voice. Cf. T. of S. iv. 1. 196:—

160. Tassel-gentle. The tassel-gentle or tercel-gentle is the male hawk. Dyce cites Cotgrave, Fr. Dict.: "Tiercelet. The Tassell or male of any kind of hawk, so named because he is usually a third smaller than the female;" and Holmes, Academy of Armory: "Tiercell, Tercell, or Tassell is the general term for the male of all large hawks." Malone suggests that the tiercel-gentle was the type of hawk reserved for princes, and believes that Juliet uses it to refer to Romeo for that reason. We find tercel in T. and C. iii. 2. 56: "The falcon as the tercel." The hawk was trained to recognize and respond to the falconer's voice. Cf. T. of S. iv. 1. 196:—

"Another way I have to man my haggard,
To make her come and know her keeper's call."

For haggard = wild hawk, see Much Ado, iii. 1 36, T.N. iii. 1. 71, etc.

For haggard = wild hawk, see Much Ado, iii. 1 36, T.N. iii. 1. 71, etc.

163. Airy tongue. Cf. Milton, Comus, 208: "And airy tongues, that syllable men's names," etc.

163. Airy tongue. Cf. Milton, Comus, 208: "And airy tongues, that pronounce people's names," etc.

166. Silver-sweet. Cf. Per. v. 1. 111: "As silver-voic'd." See also iv. 5. 124 below: "Then music with her silver sound," etc. The figure is a very common one.

166. Silver-sweet. Cf. Per. v. 1. 111: "As silver-voiced." See also iv. 5. 124 below: "Then music with her silver sound," etc. The metaphor is a very common one.

167. Attending. Attentive. Cf. T.A. v. 3. 82: "To lovesick Dido's sad attending ear."

167. Attending. Watchful. See T.A. v. 3. 82: "To lovesick Dido's sorrowful listening ear."

171. I have forgot why I did call thee back. We know, and she knew, that it was only to call him back, parting was "such sweet sorrow."

171. I have forgot why I did call thee back. We know, and she knew, that it was only to bring him back; saying goodbye was "such sweet sorrow."

178. A wanton's bird. Here wanton means simply a playful girl. It is often used in such innocent sense (cf. i. 4. 35 above),[Pg 204] and is sometimes masculine, as in K. John, v. 1. 70 and Rich. II. ii. 3. 164.

178. A wanton's bird. Here wanton simply refers to a playful girl. It's often used in this innocent way (see i. 4. 35 above),[Pg 204] and sometimes it can be masculine, as in K. John, v. 1. 70 and Rich. II. ii. 3. 164.

181. Plucks it back. Cf. Sonn. 126. 6: "As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back." See also W.T. iv. 4. 476, 762 and A. and C. i. 2. 131. Pluck is a favourite word with S.

181. Plucks it back. See Sonnet 126. 6: "As you move forward, I'll always pull you back." Also refer to W.T. iv. 4. 476, 762 and A. and C. i. 2. 131. Pull is a favorite word for S.

182. Loving-jealous. Compound adjectives are much used by S. Cf. i. 1. 79, 176, 178, i. 2. 25, i. 4. 7, 100, etc., above.

182. Loving-jealous. Compound adjectives are frequently used by S. See i. 1. 79, 176, 178, i. 2. 25, i. 4. 7, 100, etc., above.

189. Ghostly. Spiritual; as in ii. 3. 45, ii. 6. 21, and iii. 3. 49 below.

189. Ghostly. Spiritual; as in ii. 3. 45, ii. 6. 21, and iii. 3. 49 below.

190. Dear hap. Good fortune. The 1st quarto has "good hap," which occurs in iii. 3. 171 below.

190. Dear hap. Good luck. The 1st quarto has "good fortune," which appears in iii. 3. 171 below.


Scene 3—

1. Grey-eyed. Delius says that grey here and in Much Ado, v. 3. 27 is = "bright blue," and Dyce defines it as "blue, azure"; but there is no reason why the word should not have its ordinary meaning. The grey, as in M.N.D. iii. 2. 419, J.C. ii. 1. 103, and iii. 5. 19 below, is the familiar poetic grey of the early morning before sunrise. Whether ascribed, as here, to the eyes of the Morn, or, as in Milton's Lycidas, to her sandals, does not matter. See also on iii. 5. 8 below.

1. Grey-eyed. Delius mentions that grey here and in Much Ado, v. 3. 27 means "bright blue," and Dyce defines it as "blue, azure"; however, there's no reason the word can't have its usual meaning. The grey, as in M.N.D. iii. 2. 419, J.C. ii. 1. 103, and iii. 5. 19 below, refers to the familiar poetic grey of early morning before sunrise. Whether it's attributed, as it is here, to the eyes of the Morn, or, as in Milton's Lycidas, to her sandals, doesn't change its essence. See also on iii. 5. 8 below.

3. Flecked. Spotted, dappled; used by S. nowhere else.

3. Flecked. Spotted, dappled; used by S. nowhere else.

4. From forth. Cf. M.W. iv. 4. 53: "Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once," etc. For Titan as the sun-god, cf. V. and A. 177, T. and C. v. 10. 25, Cymb. iii. 4. 166, etc.

4. From forth. Cf. M.W. iv. 4. 53: "Let them rush out from the sawpit at once," etc. For Titan as the sun-god, see V. and A. 177, T. and C. v. 10. 25, Cymb. iii. 4. 166, etc.

7. Osier cage. Basket. Dowden suggests that of ours is "possibly not merely for the rhyme's sake, but because the Franciscan had no personal property."

7. Osier cage. Basket. Dowden suggests that of ours might not just be for the sake of rhyme, but because the Franciscan didn’t own anything personally.

8. Precious-juiced flowers. S. here prepares us for the part which the Friar is afterwards to sustain. Having thus early found him to be a chemist, we are not surprised at his furnishing the sleeping-draught for Juliet. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

8. Precious-juiced flowers. S. here sets us up for the role that the Friar will play later. Since we've already discovered that he's a chemist, it’s no surprise that he provides the sleeping potion for Juliet. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

"What force the stones, the plants, and metals haue to woorke,
And diuers other thinges that in the bowels of earth do loorke,
[Pg 205]
And diuers other thinges that in the bowels of earth do loorke,
With care I haue sought out, with payne I did then proue;
With them eke can I helpe my selfe at times of my behoue," etc.

9. The earth, etc. Cf. Milton, P.L. ii. 911: "The womb of nature, and perhaps her grave." See also Per. ii. 3. 45:—

9. The earth, etc. Cf. Milton, P.L. ii. 911: "The womb of nature, and perhaps her grave." See also Per. ii. 3. 45:—

"Whereby I see that Time's the king of men,
He's both their parent, and he is their grave."

15. Mickle. Much, great; a word already half obsolete in the time of S. Cf. C. of E. iii. 1. 45: "The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame," etc. Powerful grace = "efficacious virtue" (Johnson); or = gracious power.

15. Mickle. A lot, significant; a word that was already nearly out of use during S. See C. of E. iii. 1. 45: "The one never gave me credit, the other brought me a lot of blame," etc. Powerful grace = "effective virtue" (Johnson); or = gracious power.

19. Strain'd. Wrenched, forced. Cf. M. of V. iv. 1. 184: "The quality of mercy is not strain'd" (that is, excludes the idea of force or compulsion), etc.

19. Strain'd. Twisted, compelled. See M. of V. iv. 1. 184: "The quality of mercy is not forced" (meaning it excludes the idea of being forced or coerced), etc.

23. Weak. So all the early eds. except 1st quarto, which has "small." Weak seems the better word as opposed to the following power (Daniel).

23. Weak. So all the early editions except the first quarto, which has "small." Weak seems to be the better word compared to the following power (Daniel).

25. With that part. That is, with its odour. Malone and Clarke take part to be = the sense of smell.

25. With that part. That is, with its scent. Malone and Clarke take part to mean = the sense of smell.

26. Slays. The 2d quarto has "staies" (= stops, paralyzes), which some editors prefer.

26. Slays. The second quarto uses "staies" (meaning stops or paralyzes), which some editors favor.

27. Encamp them. For the reflexive use, cf. Hen. V. iii. 6. 180: "we'll encamp ourselves." On the figurative encamp, cf. L.C. 203.

27. Encamp them. For the reflexive use, see Hen. V. iii. 6. 180: "we'll set up camp ourselves." For the figurative set up camp, see L.C. 203.

29. Worser. Cf. iii. 2. 108 below: "worser than Tybalt's death." Predominant was originally an astrological term. See A.W. i. 1. 211, etc.

29. Worser. Cf. iii. 2. 108 below: "worse than Tybalt's death." Predominant was originally an astrological term. See A.W. i. 1. 211, etc.

30. Canker. Canker-worm. Cf. V. and A. 656: "The canker that eats up Love's tender spring;" T.G. of V. i. 1. 43: "in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells," etc.

30. Canker. Canker-worm. Cf. V. and A. 656: "The worm that destroys Love's gentle beginning;" T.G. of V. i. 1. 43: "in the sweetest bud The devouring worm resides," etc.

34. Good morrow. Here = good-by.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Here = goodbye.

37. Unstuff'd. "Not overcharged" (Schmidt); used by S. only here.

37. Unstuff'd. "Not overcharged" (Schmidt); used by S. only here.

40. With some. The editors generally adopt "by some" from[Pg 206] the 1st quarto; but with = by is so common in S. that the reading of all the other early eds. may be accepted. See on i. 1. 148 and i. 2. 49 above. Distemperature = disorder. Cf. C. of E. v. 1. 82: "Of pale distemperatures and foes to life."

40. With some. The editors usually take "by some" from[Pg 206] the 1st quarto; however, with = by is so common in S. that the reading from all the other early editions might be accepted. Refer to i. 1. 148 and i. 2. 49 above. Distemperature means disorder. See C. of E. v. 1. 82: "Of pale distemperatures and foes to life."

41, 42. Or if not so, etc. Marshall doubts whether S. wrote these lines. Of course, they belong to the first draft of the play.

41, 42. Or if not so, etc. Marshall wonders if S. actually wrote these lines. Obviously, they are from the first draft of the play.

51. Both our remedies. The healing of both of us. Cf. A.W. i. 3. 169: "both our mothers" = the mother of both of us. See also Ham. iii. 1. 42, Cymb. ii. 4. 56, etc.

51. Both our remedies. The healing of the two of us. Cf. A.W. i. 3. 169: "our two mothers" = the mother of the two of us. See also Ham. iii. 1. 42, Cymb. ii. 4. 56, etc.

52. Lies. Cf. V. and A. 1128:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cf. V. and A. 1128:—

"She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
Where lo! two lamps burnt out in darkness lies."

See also Rich. II. iii. 3. 168 and Cymb. ii. 3. 24.

See also Rich. II. iii. 3. 168 and Cymb. ii. 3. 24.

54. Steads. Benefits, helps. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 165: "Which since have steaded much;" M. of V. i. 3. 7: "May you stead me?" etc.

54. Steads. Advantages, assistance. See Temp. i. 2. 165: "Which have since helped a lot;" M. of V. i. 3. 7: "Can you help me?" etc.

55. Homely in thy drift. Simple in what you have to say. Cf. iv. 1. 114 below.

55. Homely in thy drift. Be straightforward in what you say. See iv. 1. 114 below.

56. Riddling. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 2. 53: "Lysander riddles very prettily;" and 1 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 57: "a riddling merchant."

56. Riddling. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 2. 53: "Lysander tells riddles really well;" and 1 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 57: "a merchant of riddles."

61. When and where and how, etc. An instance of the so-called "chiastic" construction of which S. was fond. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 1. 113, 114, Ham. iii. 1. 158, 159, A. and C. iii. 2. 15-18, etc.

61. When and where and how, etc. This is an example of the "chiastic" structure that S. liked. See M.N.D. iii. 1. 113, 114, Ham. iii. 1. 158, 159, A. and C. iii. 2. 15-18, etc.

72. To season love. A favourite metaphor with S., though a homely one; taken from the use of salt in preserving meat. For the reference to salt tears, cf. A.W. i. 1. 55, T.N. i. 1. 30, R. of L. 796, L.C. 18, etc.

72. To season love. A common metaphor for S., though somewhat unrefined; drawn from how salt is used to preserve meat. For the mention of salty tears, see A.W. i. 1. 55, T.N. i. 1. 30, R. of L. 796, L.C. 18, etc.

73. Sighs. Compared to vapours which the sun dispels.

73. Sighs. Compared to the mists that the sun clears away.

74. Ancient. Aged; as in ii. 4. 133 below. See also Lear, ii. 2. 67, Cymb. v. 3. 15, etc.

74. Ancient. Old; as in ii. 4. 133 below. See also Lear, ii. 2. 67, Cymb. v. 3. 15, etc.

88. Did read by rote, etc. "Consisted of phrases learned by heart, but knew nothing of the true characters of love" (Schmidt).

88. Did read by rote, etc. "Consisted of phrases memorized, but understood nothing of the real nature of love" (Schmidt).

93. I stand on sudden haste. I must be in haste. Cf. the impersonal use of stand on or upon = it concerns, it is important to; as[Pg 207] in C. of E. iv. 1. 68: "Consider how it stands upon my credit;" Rich. II. ii. 3. 138: "It stands your grace upon to do him right" (that is, it is your duty), etc. Cf. ii. 4. 34 below.

93. I stand on sudden haste. I need to hurry. Consider the impersonal use of stand on or upon meaning it matters, it's important to; like[Pg 207] in C. of E. iv. 1. 68: "Think about how it affects my reputation;" Rich. II. ii. 3. 138: "It's important for your grace to do him right" (that is, it's your responsibility), etc. See ii. 4. 34 below.


Scene 4.

2. To-night. Last night. See on i. 4. 50 above.

2. To-night. Last night. Refer to i. 4. 50 above.

13. How he dares. For the play on dare = venture, and dare = challenge, cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 203. There is also a play on answer.

13. How he dares. For the play on dare = take a risk, and dare = confront, cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 203. There is also a play on response.

15. A white wench's black eye. Cf. L. L. L. iii. 1. 108:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See L. L. L. iii. 1. 108:—

"A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
And two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;"

and Rosalind's reference to the "bugle eyeballs" of Phebe in A. Y.L. iii. 5, 47, which the shepherdess recalls as a sneer: "He said mine eyes were black," etc.

and Rosalind's reference to the "bugle eyeballs" of Phebe in A. Y.L. iii. 5, 47, which the shepherdess remembers as an insult: "He said my eyes were black," etc.

Thorough. Through. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 1. 3, 5, W.T. iii. 2. 172, J.C. iii. 1. 136, v. 1. 110, etc.

Thorough. Through. See M.N.D. ii. 1. 3, 5, W.T. iii. 2. 172, J.C. iii. 1. 136, v. 1. 110, etc.

16. The very pin, etc. The allusion is to archery. The clout (cf. L. L. L. iv. 1. 136), or white mark at which the arrows were aimed, was fastened by a black pin in the centre. Cf. Marlowe, Tamburlane, 1590:—

16. The very pin, etc. This refers to archery. The clout (see L. L. L. iv. 1. 136), or the white target that arrows were aimed at, was secured with a black pin in the center. Compare with Marlowe, Tamburlane, 1590:—

"For kings are clouts that every man shoots at,
Our crown the pin that thousands seek to cleave."

17. Butt-shaft. A kind of arrow used for shooting at butts; formed without a barb, so as to be easily extracted (Nares).

17. Butt-shaft. A type of arrow used for target practice; designed without a pointed tip to be easily removed (Nares).

20. Prince of cats. Tybert is the name of the cat in Reynard the Fox. Steevens quotes Dekker, Satiromastix, 1602: "tho' you were Tybert, the long-tail'd prince of cats;" and Have with You, etc.: "not Tibalt, prince of cats." Tibert, Tybert, and Tybalt are forms of the ancient name Thibault. Cf. iii. 1. 77 below.

20. Prince of cats. Tybert is the name of the cat in Reynard the Fox. Steevens cites Dekker, Satiromastix, 1602: "even if you were Tybert, the long-tailed prince of cats;" and Have with You, etc.: "not Tibalt, prince of cats." Tibert, Tybert, and Tybalt are variations of the old name Thibault. See iii. 1. 77 below.

20. Captain of compliments. A complete master of etiquette. Cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 169:—

20. Captain of compliments. An absolute expert in manners. Cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 169:—

"A man of compliments, whom right and wrong
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny."

As Schmidt remarks, the modern distinction of compliment and complement is unknown to the orthography of the old eds. See on ii. 2. 89 above.

As Schmidt points out, the current distinction between compliment and complement is not recognized in the spelling of the old editions. See on ii. 2. 89 above.

22. Prick-song. Music sung from notes (Schmidt); so called from the points or dots with which it is expressed. S. uses the word only here. When opposed to plain-song, it meant counter-point as distinguished from mere melody. Here, as Elson shows, there is a reference to marking the time "by tapping the foot in time with the music, or, more frequently and more artistically, by waving the hand as the conductor of an orchestra waves his baton."

22. Prick-song. Music sung from notes (Schmidt); it's called that because of the points or dots used to express it. S. only uses this term here. When compared to plain-song, it referred to counterpoint, distinguishing it from just melody. As Elson points out, this also refers to marking time "by tapping the foot in sync with the music, or more often and more artistically, by waving the hand like a conductor waves their baton."

23. Me. For the "ethical dative," cf. J.C. i. 2. 270: "He plucked me ope his doublet," etc.

23. Me. For the "ethical dative," see J.C. i. 2. 270: "He opened his jacket for me," etc.

25. Button. Steevens quotes The Return from Parnassus, 1606: "Strikes his poinado at a button's breadth." Staunton cites George Silver's Paradoxes of Defence, 1599: "Signior Rocco, ... thou that takest upon thee to hit anie Englishman with a thrust upon anie button," etc. Duels were frequent in England in the time of S. The matter had been reduced to a science, and its laws laid down in books. The causes of quarrel had been duly graded and classified, as Touchstone explains in A.Y.L. v. 4. 63 fol.

25. Button. Steevens references The Return from Parnassus, 1606: "Strikes his sword at a button's width." Staunton mentions George Silver's Paradoxes of Defence, 1599: "Signior Rocco, ... you who dare to hit any Englishman with a thrust on any button," etc. Duels were common in England during S.'s time. The practice had become a science, with its rules laid out in books. The causes of disputes had been properly categorized and classified, as Touchstone explains in A.Y.L. v. 4. 63 fol.

26. Of the very first house. Of the first rank among duellists.

26. Of the very first house. Of the highest caliber among duelists.

27. Passado. "A motion forwards and thrust in fencing" (Schmidt). Cf. L. L. L. i. 2. 184: "the passado he respects not." The punto reverso was a back-handed stroke. We have punto (= thrust) in M.W. ii. 3. 26: "to see thee pass thy punto." The hay was a home-thrust; from the Italian hai = thou hast it (not "he has it," as Schmidt and others explain it). Johnson gives it correctly: "The hay is the word hai, you have it, used when a thrust reaches the antagonist, from which our fencers, on the same occasion, without knowing, I suppose, any reason for it, cry out ha!"

27. Passado. "A forward movement and thrust in fencing" (Schmidt). See L. L. L. i. 2. 184: "the passado he doesn’t respect." The punto reverso was a back-handed strike. We have punto (= thrust) in M.W. ii. 3. 26: "to see you pass your punto." The hay was a direct thrust; from the Italian hai = you have it (not "he has it," as Schmidt and others interpret it). Johnson states it correctly: "The hay is the word hai, you have it, used when a thrust hits the opponent, from which our fencers, at the same time, without knowing, I guess, any reason for it, shout out ha!"

30. Fantasticoes. Steevens quotes Dekker, Old Fortunatus: "I have danced with queens, dallied with ladies, worn strange attires, seen fantasticoes," etc.

30. Fantasticoes. Steevens cites Dekker, Old Fortunatus: "I have danced with queens, flirted with ladies, worn unusual outfits, and seen amazing things," etc.

32. Grandsire. Addressed to Benvolio in raillery of his staid demeanour.

32. Grandsire. Teased Benvolio about his serious attitude.

33. Fashion-mongers. Cf. Much Ado, v. 1. 94: "fashion-monging boys."

33. Fashion-mongers. Cf. Much Ado, v. 1. 94: "trend-following guys."

34. Pardonnez-mois. Fellows who are continually saying pardonnez-moi; a hit at Frenchified affectation. The Cambridge ed. has "perdona-mi's" (Italian, suggested by the "pardona-mees" of the 4th and 5th quartos). Herford reads "pardon-me's."

34. Pardonnez-mois. Guys who are always saying pardonnez-moi; a jab at French pretentiousness. The Cambridge edition has "perdona-mi's" (Italian, suggested by the "pardona-mees" of the 4th and 5th quartos). Herford reads "pardon-me's."

35. Form. There is a play on the word, as in L. L. L. i. 1. 209: "sitting with her upon the form ... in manner and form following." Blakeway remarks: "I have heard that during the reign of large breeches it was necessary to cut away hollow places in the benches in the House of Commons, to make room for those monstrous protuberances, without which contrivance they who stood on the new form could not sit at ease on the old bench."

35. Form. There’s a play on words, like in L. L. L. i. 1. 209: "sitting with her on the bench ... in the manner and form that follows." Blakeway notes: "I’ve heard that during the time of large pants, it was necessary to carve out spaces in the benches in the House of Commons to accommodate those huge bulges; without that adjustment, anyone standing on the new bench couldn’t sit comfortably on the old one."

36. Bons. The early eds. have "bones," which is unintelligible. The correction is due to Theobald, and is generally adopted.

36. Bons. The early editions say "bones," which doesn't make sense. The correction comes from Theobald and is widely accepted.

38. Without his roe. "That is, he comes but half himself; he is only a sigh—O me! that is, me O! the half of his name" (Seymour). It may mean without his mistress, whom he has had to leave; roe meaning a female deer as well as the spawn of a fish. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 309, where the Princess says: "Whip to our tents, as roes run over land;" and T. and C. v. 1. 68: "a herring without a roe."

38. Without his roe. "He comes here only partially himself; he's just a sigh—Oh no! that is, me oh! the incomplete part of his name" (Seymour). This might refer to being without his mistress, whom he had to leave behind; "roe" means both a female deer and the eggs of a fish. See L. L. L. v. 2. 309, where the Princess says: "Hurry to our camps, like deer running across the land;" and T. and C. v. 1. 68: "a herring without roe."

42. Be-rhyme. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 186: "I was never so be-rhymed," etc.

42. Be-rhyme. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 186: "I was never so filled with rhymes," etc.

43. Hildings. Base menials; used of both sexes. Cf. T. of S. ii. 1. 26: "For shame, thou hilding;" A.W. iii. 6. 4: "If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect," etc. See also iii. 5. 167 below. It is used as an adjective in 2 Hen. IV. i. 1. 57 and Hen. V. iv. 2. 29.

43. Hildings. Lowly servants; applicable to both genders. See T. of S. ii. 1. 26: "For shame, you coward;" A.W. iii. 6. 4: "If your lordship doesn't consider him a coward, then don't hold me in your respect," etc. Also refer to iii. 5. 167 below. It’s used as an adjective in 2 Hen. IV. i. 1. 57 and Hen. V. iv. 2. 29.

44. Grey eye. Here Malone and others make grey = blue; while Steevens and Ulrici take the ground that it has its ordinary meaning. The latter quote Temp. i. 2. 269 ("This blue-eyed hag")[Pg 210] in proof that blue eyes were accounted ugly; but the reference there, as in A.Y.L. iii. 2. 393 ("a blue eye and sunken"), seems to be to a bluish circle about the eyes. It is curious that these are the only specific allusions to blue eyes in S. In W.T. i. 2. 136, some make "welkin eye" = blue eye; but it is more probably = heavenly eye, as Schmidt gives it. In V. and A. 482 ("Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth") the eyelids, not the eyes, are meant, on account of their "blue veins" (R. of L. 440). Cf. Cymb. ii. 2. 21:—

44. Grey eye. Here Malone and others interpret grey as blue; while Steevens and Ulrici argue that it has its usual meaning. The latter refer to Temp. i. 2. 269 ("This blue-eyed hag")[Pg 210] as evidence that blue eyes were considered unattractive; but the reference there, as in A.Y.L. iii. 2. 393 ("a blue eye and sunken"), seems to refer to a bluish ring around the eyes. It's interesting that these are the only specific mentions of blue eyes in Shakespeare. In W.T. i. 2. 136, some interpret "welkin eye" as a blue eye; but it is more likely to mean a heavenly eye, as Schmidt suggests. In V. and A. 482 ("Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth") the reference is to the eyelids, not the eyes, because of their "blue veins" (R. of L. 440). Cf. Cymb. ii. 2. 21:—

"would under-peep her lids,
O see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct."

Malone cites both this last passage and V. and A. 482 as referring to blue eyes; but the "azure lac'd" ought to settle the question in regard to the former, and "windows" evidently has the same meaning in both. If the "blue windows" were blue eyes, Malone would make out his case, for in V. and A. 140 the goddess says "Mine eyes are grey and bright." But why should the poet call them blue in the one place and grey in the other, when the former word would suit the verse equally well in both? In my opinion, when he says blue he means blue, and when he says grey he means grey. See on ii. 3. 1 above. The New Eng. Dict. does not recognize blue as a meaning of grey. It seems, however, from certain passages in writers of the time that the word was sometimes = bluish grey or bluish; but never "bright blue" (as Delius defines it) or clear blue, as Dyce and others assume.

Malone points out both this last passage and V. and A. 482 as referencing blue eyes; however, the "azure lac'd" should clarify the first, and "windows" clearly carries the same meaning in both instances. If the "blue windows" were blue eyes, Malone would have a strong case, since in V. and A. 140 the goddess says, "Mine eyes are grey and bright." But why would the poet describe them as blue in one place and grey in another when blue would work just as well in both? In my view, when he says blue, he means blue, and when he says grey, he means grey. See on ii. 3. 1 above. The New Eng. Dict. does not list blue as a meaning of grey. However, from certain passages in authors of that time, it seems the word was sometimes understood as = bluish grey or bluish; but never "bright blue" (as Delius defines it) or clear blue, as Dyce and others suggest.

46. Slop. For slops (= large loose breeches), see Much Ado, iii. 2. 36, etc. Gave us the counterfeit = played a trick on us. Counterfeit is used for the sake of the coming play on slip, which sometimes meant a counterfeit coin. Cf. Greene, Thieves Falling Out, etc.: "counterfeit pieces of money, being brasse, and covered over with silver, which the common people call slips." There is also a[Pg 211] play upon the word in the only other instance in which S. uses it, V. and A. 515:—

46. Slop. For slops (large loose pants), see Much Ado, iii. 2. 36, etc. Gave us the counterfeit = played a trick on us. Counterfeit is used for the sake of the upcoming play on slip, which sometimes referred to a fake coin. Compare Greene, Thieves Falling Out, etc.: "fake pieces of money, made of brass, and covered with silver, which the common people call slips." There is also a[Pg 211] play on the word in the only other example where S. uses it, V. and A. 515:—

"Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips."

58. Kindly. The word literally means "naturally, in a manner suited to the character or occasion" (Schmidt); hence aptly, pertinently.

58. Kindly. The word literally means "naturally, in a way that fits the character or situation" (Schmidt); so it makes sense and is relevant.

63. Then is my pump, etc. The idea seems to be, my shoe or pump, being pinked or punched with holes, is well flowered. Cf. unpinked in T. of S. iv. 1. 136: "And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel."

63. Then is my pump, etc. The idea seems to be that my shoe or pump, which is pinked or has holes punched in it, is nicely flowered. See unpinked in T. of S. iv. 1. 136: "And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel."

68. Single-soled. "With a quibble on sole and soul = having but one sole, and silly, contemptible" (Schmidt). Steevens gives several examples of single-soled = mean, contemptible. Singleness here = simplicity, silliness.

68. Single-soled. "With a play on sole and soul = having just one sole, and foolish, worthless" (Schmidt). Steevens provides several examples of single-soled = mean, despicable. Singleness here = straightforwardness, foolishness.

74. Wild-goose chase. A kind of horse-race, resembling the flight of wild geese. Two horses were started together; and if one got the lead the other was obliged to follow over whatever ground the foremost rider chose to take (Holt White).

74. Wild-goose chase. A horse race that was a lot like the way wild geese fly. Two horses would start at the same time; if one took the lead, the other had to follow wherever the leading rider decided to go (Holt White).

77. Was I with you, etc. Was I even with you, have I paid you off? as, perhaps, in T. of S. iv. 1. 170: "What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight!" For the allusion to five wits see on i. 4. 47 above.

77. Was I with you, etc. Was I even with you? Have I settled with you? Like, perhaps, in T. of S. iv. 1. 170: "What, are you complaining? I'll be right with you!" For the reference to five wits, see i. 4. 47 above.

80. I will bite thee by the ear. A playful expression of endearment, common in the old dramatists.

80. I will bite thee by the ear. A lighthearted term of affection, often found in classic playwrights.

81. Good goose, bite not. A proverbial phrase, found in Ray's Proverbs.

81. Good goose, bite not. A common saying, found in Ray's Proverbs.

82. Sweeting. A kind of sweet apple. The word is still used in this sense, at least in New England. Steevens quotes Sumner's Last Will and Testament, 1600: "as well crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits." There was also a variety known as the bittersweet. Cf. Fair Em: "And left me such a bitter sweet to gnaw upon."

82. Sweeting. A type of sweet apple. The term is still used in this way, especially in New England. Steevens quotes Sumner's Last Will and Testament, 1600: "both crabs and sweetings for his summer fruits." There was also a variety called bittersweet. See Fair Em: "And left me such a bitter sweet to gnaw upon."

84. And is it not well served in, etc. White remarks that "the passage illustrates the antiquity of that dish so much esteemed by all boys and many men—goose and apple-sauce." Cf. the allusions to mutton and capers in T.N. i. 3. 129, and to beef and mustard in M. N. D. iii. 1. 197 and T. of S. iv. 3. 23.

84. And is it not well served in, etc. White comments that "the passage shows how old that dish, which is so loved by all boys and many men—goose and apple-sauce—is." See the references to mutton and capers in T.N. i. 3. 129, and to beef and mustard in M. N. D. iii. 1. 197 and T. of S. iv. 3. 23.

86. Cheveril. Soft kid leather for gloves, proverbially elastic. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 32:—

86. Cheveril. Soft kid leather for gloves, famously stretchy. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 32:—

"which gifts,
Saving your mincing, the capacity
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it."

See also T. N. iii. 1. 13: "a cheveril glove," etc.

See also T. N. iii. 1. 13: "a soft leather glove," etc.

90. A broad goose. No satisfactory explanation of this quibble has been given. Schmidt defines broad here as "plain, evident." Dowden suggests that there is a play on brood-goose, which occurs in Fletcher, Humorous Lieutenant, ii. 1: "They have no more burden than a brood-goose" (breeding goose).

90. A broad goose. No clear explanation of this issue has been provided. Schmidt describes broad here as "obvious, clear." Dowden proposes that there is a play on brood-goose, which appears in Fletcher's Humorous Lieutenant, ii. 1: "They have no more burden than a brood-goose" (breeding goose).

95. Natural. Fool, idiot. Cf. Temp. iii. 2. 37 and A.Y.L. i. 2. 52, 57.

95. Natural. Fool, idiot. See Temp. iii. 2. 37 and A.Y.L. i. 2. 52, 57.

97. Gear. Matter, business. Cf. T. and C. i. 1. 6: "Will this gear ne'er be mended?" 2 Hen. VI. i. 4. 17: "To this gear the sooner the better," etc.

97. Gear. Situation, issue. See T. and C. i. 1. 6: "Will this stuff never be fixed?" 2 Hen. VI. i. 4. 17: "The sooner we deal with this, the better," etc.

99. Two, two, etc. This is given to Mercutio in most of the early eds., and White doubts whether it belongs to the sober Benvolio; but he is not incapable of fun. Cf. 125 below.

99. Two, two, etc. This line is attributed to Mercutio in most early editions, and White questions whether it really fits the serious Benvolio; however, he’s not above having a good time. See 125 below.

102. My fan, Peter. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 1. 147: "To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!" The fans of the time of S. were large and heavy.

102. My fan, Peter. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 1. 147: "To watch him walk in front of a lady while carrying her fan!" The fans during the time of S. were big and heavy.

105. God ye good morrow. That is, God give ye, etc. For good den, see on i. 2. 57 above.

105. God ye good morrow. That is, may God bless you, etc. For good day, see on i. 2. 57 above.

109. Prick of noon. Point of noon. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 34: "at the noontide prick." See also R. of L. 781.

109. Prick of noon. Noon. See 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 34: "at the noontide prick." Also see R. of L. 781.

123. Confidence. Probably meant for conference. Cf. Much Ado[Pg 213], iii. 5. 3, where Dogberry says, "Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you that decerns you nearly."

123. Confidence. Probably meant for conference. See Much Ado[Pg 213], iii. 5. 3, where Dogberry says, "Actually, sir, I want to have a conversation with you that concerns you personally."

125. Indite. Probably used in ridicule of the Nurse's confidence. Mrs. Quickly uses the word in the same way in 2 Hen. IV. ii. 1. 30: "he is indited to dinner."

125. Indite. Likely used to mock the Nurse's confidence. Mrs. Quickly uses the term similarly in 2 Hen. IV. ii. 1. 30: "he is invited to dinner."

126. So ho! The cry of the sportsmen when they find a hare. Hence Romeo's question that follows.

126. So ho! The shout of the hunters when they spot a hare. That's why Romeo asks the question that comes next.

129. Hoar. Often = mouldy, as things grow white from moulding (Steevens).

129. Hoar. Often = moldy, as things turn white from molding (Steevens).

134. Lady, lady, lady. From the old ballad of Susanna, also quoted in T.N. ii. 3. 85: "There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!"

134. Lady, lady, lady. From the old song about Susanna, also mentioned in T.N. ii. 3. 85: "There lived a man in Babylon, lady, lady!"

136. Merchant. Used contemptuously, like chap, which is a contraction of chapman. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 57: "a riddling merchant;" and Churchyard's Chance, 1580: "What saucie merchaunt speaketh now, saied Venus in her rage?"

136. Merchant. Used in a disparaging way, like chap, which is short for chapman. See 1 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 57: "a puzzling merchant;" and Churchyard's Chance, 1580: "What cheeky merchant is speaking now, said Venus in her anger?"

137. Ropery. Roguery. Steevens quotes The Three Ladies of London, 1584: "Thou art very pleasant and full of thy roperye." Cf. rope-tricks in T. of S. i. 2. 112, which Schmidt explains as "tricks deserving the halter." Nares and Douce see the same allusion in ropery.

137. Ropery. Trickery. Steevens cites The Three Ladies of London, 1584: "You are very enjoyable and full of your tricks." See rope-tricks in T. of S. i. 2. 112, which Schmidt interprets as "tricks worthy of hanging." Nares and Douce recognize the same reference in ropery.

143. Jacks. For the contemptuous use of the word, cf. M. of V. iii. 4. 77: "these bragging Jacks;" Much Ado, v. 1. 91: "Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!" etc.

143. Jacks. For the scornful use of the term, see M. of V. iii. 4. 77: "these bragging Jacks;" Much Ado, v. 1. 91: "Boys, apes, show-offs, Jacks, weaklings!" etc.

144. Flirt-gills. That is flirting Gills or women of loose behaviour. Gill or Jill was a familiar term for a woman, as Jack was for a man. Cf. the proverb, "Every Jack must have his Jill;" alluded to in L. L. L. v. 2. 885 and M.N.D. iii. 2. 461. The word is a contraction of Gillian (see C. of E. iii. 1. 31), which is a corruption of Juliana. Gill-flirt was the more common form.

144. Flirt-gills. That refers to flirting Gills or women who are promiscuous. Gill or Jill was a common term for a woman, just like Jack was for a man. This connects to the saying, "Every Jack must have his Jill," mentioned in L. L. L. v. 2. 885 and M.N.D. iii. 2. 461. The term is a shortened form of Gillian (see C. of E. iii. 1. 31), which comes from Juliana. Gill-flirt was the more typical version.

145. Skains-mates. A puzzle to the commentators. As skein is an Irish word for knife (used by Warner, Greene, Chapman, and other writers of the time) Malone and Steevens make skains-mates mean "cut-throat companions" or fencing-school companions.[Pg 214] Schmidt defines it as "messmates," and Nares as probably = "roaring or swaggering companions." Various other explanations have been suggested; but there is probably some corruption in the first part of the compound.

145. Skains-mates. A puzzle for the commentators. Since skein is an Irish word for knife (used by Warner, Greene, Chapman, and other writers of the time), Malone and Steevens interpret skains-mates to mean "cut-throat companions" or fencing-school friends.[Pg 214] Schmidt defines it as "messmates," and Nares suggests it might mean "roaring or swaggering companions." Several other explanations have been proposed, but there may be some corruption in the first part of the compound.

153. Afore. Not a mere vulgarism. It is used by Capulet in iii. 4. 34 and iv. 2. 31 below. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 7:—

153. Afore. Not just a crude term. It's used by Capulet in iii. 4. 34 and iv. 2. 31 below. See Temp. iv. 1. 7:—

"here afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift," etc.

158. In a fool's paradise. Malone cities A handfull of Pleasant Delightes, 1584:—

158. In a fool's paradise. Malone cites A Handful of Pleasant Delights, 1584:—

"When they see they may her win,
They leave then where they did begin;
They prate, and make the matter nice,
And leave her in fooles paradise."

and Barnaby Rich's Farewell: "Knowing the fashion of you men to be such, as by praisyng our beautie, you think to bring into a fooles paradize."

and Barnaby Rich's Farewell: "Understanding how you men operate, thinking that by complimenting our beauty, you'll lead us into a fool's paradise."

162. Weak. Explained by Schmidt as "stupid." Clarke thinks that "she intends to use a most forcible expression, and blunders upon a most feeble one."

162. Weak. Schmidt described it as "dumb." Clarke believes that "she means to use a very strong phrase but accidentally uses a very weak one."

177. And stay, etc. The pointing is White's. Most editors follow the early eds. and read "And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall, etc."

177. And stay, etc. The emphasis is White's. Most editors stick to the early editions and read "And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall, etc."

180. A tackled stair. That is, a rope-ladder. Cf. "ladder-tackle" in Per. iv. 1. 61.

180. A tackled stair. In other words, a rope ladder. See "ladder-tackle" in Per. iv. 1. 61.

181. High top-gallant. The top-gallant mast; figuratively for summit or climax. Steevens quotes Markham, English Arcadia, 1607: "the high top-gallant of his valour." S. uses the term only here.

181. High top-gallant. The top-gallant mast; figuratively for summit or climax. Steevens quotes Markham, English Arcadia, 1607: "the high top-gallant of his valour." S. uses the term only here.

183. Quit. Requite, reward. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 68, 280, etc.

183. Quit. Repay, reward. See Ham. v. 2. 68, 280, etc.

184. Mistress. A trisyllable here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A three-syllable word here.

188. Two may keep counsel. That is, keep a secret. Cf. T.A. iv. 2. 144: "Two may keep counsel when the third's away."

188. Two may keep counsel. That is, keep it confidential. Cf. T.A. iv. 2. 144: "Two can keep a secret when the third one is absent."

191. Lord, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"A prety babe (quod she) it was when it was yong:
Lord how it could full pretely haue prated with it [its] tong."

194. Lieve. Often used for lief in the old eds. It is sometimes found in good writers of recent date. Mätzner quotes Sheridan: "I had as lieve be shot."

194. Lieve. Often used for lief in the old editions. It is sometimes seen in the works of contemporary writers. Mätzner quotes Sheridan: "I would just as soon be shot."

195. Properer. Handsomer. Cf. A.Y.L. i. 2. 129, iii. 5. 51, etc. See also Hebrews, xi. 23.

195. Properer. More attractive. Compare A.Y.L. i. 2. 129, iii. 5. 51, etc. Also see Hebrews, xi. 23.

197. Pale as any clout. A common simile of which Dowden cites examples from Bunyan and others. Versal is a vulgarism for universal.

197. Pale as any clout. A popular comparison that Dowden mentions with examples from Bunyan and others. Versal is a slang term for universal.

198. A letter. One letter. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 276: "These foils have all a length," etc. For rosemary as the symbol of remembrance, see Ham. iv. 5. 175.

198. A letter. One letter. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 276: "These foils all have the same length," etc. For rosemary as the symbol of remembrance, see Ham. iv. 5. 175.

200. The dog's name. R was called "the dog's letter." Cf. Jonson, Eng. Gram.: "R is the dog's letter and hurreth in the sound." Farmer cites Barclay, Ship of Fools, 1578:—

200. The dog's name. R was known as "the dog's letter." See Jonson, Eng. Gram.: "R is the dog's letter and has a rough sound." Farmer references Barclay, Ship of Fools, 1578:—

"This man malicious which troubled is with wrath,
Nought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R.
Though all be well, yet he none aunswere hath
Save the dogges letter glowming with nar, nar."

Dyce remarks: "Even in the days of the Romans, R was called the dog's letter, from its resemblance in sound to the snarling of a dog."

Dyce notes: "Even in Roman times, R was referred to as the dog's letter, because it sounds similar to a dog's snarl."

208. Before, and apace. Go before, and quickly. For apace, cf. iii. 2. 1 below.

208. Before, and apace. Go ahead and hurry up. For quickly, see iii. 2. 1 below.


Scene 5.

7. Love. That is, Venus. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 94:—

7. Love. That is, Venus. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 94:—

"I met her god"
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her;"

and V. and A. 1190:—

and V. and A. 1190:—

"Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
And yokes her silver doves."

9. Highmost. Cf. Sonn. 7. 9: "But when from highmost pitch, with weary ear," etc. We still use hindmost, topmost, etc.

9. Highmost. Cf. Sonn. 7. 9: "But when from the highest point, with exhausted ears," etc. We still use hindmost, topmost, etc.

11. Hours. A dissyllable; as in iii. 1. 198.

11. Hours. A two-syllable word; as in iii. 1. 198.

14. Bandy. A metaphor from tennis. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 29: "Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd," etc. See on iii. 1. 91 below.

14. Bandy. A metaphor from tennis. See L. L. L. v. 2. 29: "Well exchanged; a clever match of wits," etc. Refer to iii. 1. 91 below.

18. Honey nurse. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 530: "my fair, sweet, honey monarch;" T. of S. iv. 3. 52: "my honey love," etc.

18. Honey nurse. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 530: "my beautiful, sweet, loving ruler;" T. of S. iv. 3. 52: "my darling love," etc.

22. Them. S. makes news both singular and plural. For the latter, cf. Much Ado, i. 2. 4.

22. Them. S. makes news both singular and plural. For the latter, see Much Ado, i. 2. 4.

25. Give me leave. Let me alone, let me rest. See on i. 3. 7 above.

25. Give me leave. Just leave me alone, let me be. Check i. 3. 7 above.

26. Ache. Spelt "ake" in the folio both here and in 49 below. This indicates the pronunciation of the verb. The noun was pronounced aitch, and the plural was a dissyllable; as in Temp. i. 2. 370, T. of A. i. 1. 257, etc.

26. Ache. Spelled "ake" in the folio both here and in 49 below. This shows how the verb was pronounced. The noun was pronounced aitch, and the plural was a two-syllable word; as in Temp. i. 2. 370, T. of A. i. 1. 257, etc.

36. Stay the circumstance. Wait for the particulars. Cf. A.Y.L. iii. 2. 221: "let me stay the growth of his beard," etc. On circumstance, cf. v. 3. 181 below: "without circumstance" (= without further particulars). See also V. and A. 844, Ham. v. 2. 2, etc.

36. Stay the circumstance. Wait for the details. See A.Y.L. iii. 2. 221: "let me stop the growth of his beard," etc. Regarding circumstance, see v. 3. 181 below: "without circumstance" (= without further details). Also, see V. and A. 844, Ham. v. 2. 2, etc.

38. Simple. Silly; as often. Cf. iii. 1. 35 below, and simpleness in iii. 3. 77.

38. Simple. Silly; as usual. See iii. 1. 35 below, and simpleness in iii. 3. 77.

43. Past compare. Cf. iii. 5. 236 below: "above compare," etc.

43. Past compare. See iii. 5. 236 below: "beyond comparison," etc.

50. As. As if; a common ellipsis.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Like, a regular pause.

51. O' t'other. On the other. Cf. i. 1. 44 above: "of our side."

51. O' t'other. On the other side. See i. 1. 44 above: "of our side."

52. Beshrew. A mild form of imprecation, often used playfully. Cf. iii. 5. 221, 227 below.

52. Beshrew. A lighthearted curse, often used for fun. Cf. iii. 5. 221, 227 below.

56-58. Your love, etc. Printed as prose by the Cambridge editors, Daniel, and some others.

56-58. Your love, etc. Published as prose by the Cambridge editors, Daniel, and a few others.

66. Coil. Ado, "fuss." See Much Ado, iii. 3. 100, M.N.D. iii. 2. 339, etc.

66. Coil. Ado, "fuss." See Much Ado, iii. 3. 100, M.N.D. iii. 2. 339, etc.

72. Straight at any news. Capell explains it, "at such talk (of love and Romeo), any talk of that kind." Perhaps, as Dowden suggests, the meaning is, "It is their way to redden at any surprise."

72. Straight at any news. Capell explains it, "when it comes to discussions about love and Romeo, any talk like that." Maybe, as Dowden pointed out, it means, "It's just their way to blush at any unexpected moment."


Scene 6.

9. These violent delights, etc. Malone compares R. of L. 894: "These violent vanities can never last." He might have added Ham. ii. 1. 102:—

9. These violent delights, etc. Malone compares R. of L. 894: "These reckless pursuits won’t endure." He might have added Ham. ii. 1. 102:—

"This is the very ecstasy of love,
Whose violent property fordoes itself."

10. Like fire and powder. For the simile, cf. iii. 3. 132 and v. 1. 64 below.

10. Like fire and powder. For the comparison, see iii. 3. 132 and v. 1. 64 below.

12. His. Its; as often. Its was just coming into use when S. wrote. Cf. v. 3. 203 below.

12. His. It's; like usual. It's was just starting to be used when S. wrote. See v. 3. 203 below.

13. Confounds. Destroys; as often. Cf. Macb. ii. 2. 12, iv. 1. 54, iv. 3. 99, etc. So confusion often = destruction, ruin; as in iv. 5. 61 below.

13. Confounds. Destroys; as often. See Macb. ii. 2. 12, iv. 1. 54, iv. 3. 99, etc. Here, confusion often means destruction or ruin; as in iv. 5. 61 below.

15. Too swift, etc. "The more haste, the worse speed."

15. Too swift, etc. "The faster you rush, the slower you'll go."

17. Will ne'er wear out, etc. White thinks that the reading of the 1st quarto, "So light a foot ne'er hurts the trodden flower," is "a daintier and more graceful, and therefore, it would seem, a more appropriate figure." The quarto, it is true, gives the "daintier" figure, which has been used by the poets from Pope's description of Camilla flying "o'er the unbending corn" to Tennyson's Olivia in The Talking Oak:—

17. Will ne'er wear out, etc. White believes that the line from the 1st quarto, "So light a foot ne'er hurts the trodden flower," is "a daintier and more graceful, and therefore, it seems, a more fitting image." It is true that the quarto offers the "daintier" image, which poets have used from Pope's description of Camilla flying "o'er the unbending corn" to Tennyson's Olivia in The Talking Oak:—

"The flower she touch'd on dipt and rose,
And turn'd to look at her."

It would be appropriate in the Friar's mouth if he were in the fields, as in ii. 3, and Juliet had met him there. Very likely S. at first wrote it as in the quarto, but his poetic instinct led him to change it in revising the play. The speaker is now in his cell, with its stone floor worn by the tread of many heavy feet—such as one sees in old churches and monasteries in Europe—but Juliet's light step will not thus wear "the everlasting flint." The comparison is natural and apt.

It would fit perfectly in the Friar's dialogue if he were out in the fields, like in ii. 3, where Juliet could have encountered him. It's very possible that S. initially wrote it as in the quarto, but his poetic sense prompted him to revise it when he was editing the play. The speaker is currently in his cell, where the stone floor is worn down by the countless heavy footsteps—similar to what you see in old churches and monasteries across Europe—but Juliet's light footsteps won’t wear down "the everlasting flint." The comparison is both fitting and logical.

18. Gossamer. Light filaments floating in the air, especially in autumn. Their origin was formerly not understood, but they are[Pg 218] now known to be the webs of certain species of spiders. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 49: "Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air." S. uses the word only twice.

18. Gossamer. Light filaments floating in the air, especially in autumn. Their origin was once not understood, but they are now known to be the webs of certain species of spiders. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 49: "If you had been anything other than gossamer, feathers, air." S. uses the word only twice.

20. Vanity. "Here used for 'trivial pursuit,' 'vain delight.' The word was much used in this sense by divines in Shakespeare's time, and with much propriety is so put into the good old Friar's mouth" (Clarke).

20. Vanity. "Here used for 'trivial pursuit,' 'vain delight.' The word was commonly used in this sense by religious figures during Shakespeare's era, and it's fittingly placed in the good old Friar's dialogue" (Clarke).

21. Confessor. For the accent on the first syllable, cf. M. for M. iv. 3. 133: "One of our covent and his confessor;" and Hen. VIII. i. 2. 149: "His confessor, who fed him every minute," etc. See also iii. 3. 49 below.

21. Confessor. For the emphasis on the first syllable, see M. for M. iv. 3. 133: "One of our convent and his confessor;" and Hen. VIII. i. 2. 149: "His confessor, who fed him every minute," etc. Check also iii. 3. 49 below.

25. And that. And if. This use of that (in place of a preceding conjunction) is common in S. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 813, T. and C. ii. 2. 179, etc.

25. And that. And if. This use of that (instead of a previous conjunction) is common in S. See L. L. L. v. 2. 813, T. and C. ii. 2. 179, etc.

26. Blazon it. Set it forth. Cf. Oth. ii. 1. 63: "One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens," etc.

26. Blazon it. Present it. See Oth. ii. 1. 63: "One who surpasses the tricks of flashy writing," etc.

29. Encounter. Meeting. It is often used, as here, of the meeting of lovers. Cf. Much Ado, iii. 3. 161, iv. 1. 94, M.W. iii. 5. 74, etc.

29. Encounter. Meeting. It's commonly used, like here, to refer to the gathering of lovers. See Much Ado, iii. 3. 161, iv. 1. 94, M.W. iii. 5. 74, etc.

30. Conceit. Conception, imagination. Cf. Ham. iii. 4. 114: "Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works," etc. So conceited = imaginative in R. of L. 1371: "the conceited painter," etc.

30. Conceit. Conception, imagination. See Ham. iii. 4. 114: "Imagination makes the strongest impact even in the weakest bodies," etc. So conceited = imaginative in R. of L. 1371: "the imaginative painter," etc.

32. They are but beggars, etc. Cf. A. and C. i. 1. 15: "There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd." Worth = wealth.

32. They are but beggars, etc. Cf. A. and C. i. 1. 15: "There's a kind of begging in the love that can be counted on." Worth = wealth.

36. Leaves. The plural is used because the reference is to more than one person; a common construction in S. Cf. Rich. II. iv. 1. 314: "your sights," etc.

36. Leaves. The plural form is used because it refers to more than one person; this is a common structure in English. See Rich. II. iv. 1. 314: "your sights," etc.


ACT III

Scene 1.

2. The day is hot. "It is observed that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer" (Johnson).

2. The day is hot. "It's noted that in Italy, nearly all murders happen during the heat of summer" (Johnson).

3. Scape. Not "'scape," as often printed. The word is used in prose; as in M. of V. ii. 2. 174, etc.

3. Scape. Not "escape," as is often printed. The word is used in prose; like in M. of V. ii. 2. 174, etc.

6. Me. See on ii. 4. 23 above. We have the same construction in him, two lines below, where some eds. have "it" (from 1st quarto).

6. Me. Refer to ii. 4. 23 above. We have the same structure in him, two lines below, where some editions have "it" (from the 1st quarto).

8. Operation. Effect. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 104: "A good sherris-sack hath a twofold operation in it," etc.

8. Operation. Effect. See 2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 104: "A good sherris-sack has a twofold effect in it," etc.

11. Am I, etc. "The quietness of this retort, with the slight but significant emphasis which we imagine thrown upon the I, admirably gives point to the humorous effect of Mercutio's lecturing Benvolio—the sedate and peace-making Benvolio, and lectured by Mercutio, of all people!—for the sin of quarrelsomeness" (Clarke).

11. Am I, etc. "The calmness of this response, with the subtle but important emphasis we can picture on the I, perfectly highlights the humorous effect of Mercutio scolding Benvolio—the serious, peace-loving Benvolio—being lectured by Mercutio, of all people!—for being quarrelsome" (Clarke).

12. Jack. See on ii. 4. 127 above.

12. Jack. Refer to ii. 4. 127 above.

14. Moody. Angry. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 39: "But, being moody, give him line and scope," etc.

14. Moody. Upset. See 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 39: "But, when he’s in a bad mood, give him space and freedom," etc.

31. Tutor me from. Teach me to avoid.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Teach me to steer clear.

39. Good den. See on i. 2. 57 above.

39. Good den. Refer to i. 2. 57 above.

43. Apt enough to. Ready enough for. Cf. iii. 3. 157 below.

43. Apt enough to. Prepared for. Cf. iii. 3. 157 below.

47. Consort'st with. Keepest company with. Cf. V. and A. 1041, M.N.D. iii. 2. 387, T. and C. v. 3. 9, etc.

47. Consort'st with. You hang out with. Cf. V. and A. 1041, M.N.D. iii. 2. 387, T. and C. v. 3. 9, etc.

48. Consort. The word (with accent on first syllable) sometimes meant a company of musicians. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 84:—

48. Consort. The word (with emphasis on the first syllable) sometimes referred to a group of musicians. See T.G. of V. iii. 2. 84:—

"Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet consort; to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump," etc.

See also 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 327. In these passages the modern eds. generally read "concert." Milton has consort in the same sense in the Ode at a Solemn Musick, 27:—

See also 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 327. In these passages, modern editions usually use "concert." Milton uses consort in the same sense in the Ode at a Solemn Musick, 27:—

"O, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long
To his celestial consort us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light!"

Cf.Ode on Nativ. 132: "Make up full consort to the angelic symphony;" Il Pens. 145: "With such consort as they keep," etc. "The consorts of S.'s time were not only concerted music, but generally composed of such instruments as belonged to one family. If, for example, only viols were employed, the consort was called whole, but if virginal, lute, or flute came into the combination, it was a broken consort, or broken music" (Elson). Cf. A.Y.L. i. 2. 150, etc.

Cf.Ode on Nativ. 132: "Create a full ensemble for the angelic symphony;" Il Pens. 145: "With the kind of ensemble they keep," etc. "The ensembles of Shakespeare's time weren't just composed music but typically included instruments from the same family. For example, if only viols were used, it was called a whole consort, but if a virginal, lute, or flute was part of the mix, it was a broken consort, or broken music" (Elson). Cf. A.Y.L. i. 2. 150, etc.

51. Zounds. Like 'swounds (see Ham. ii. 2. 604), an oath contracted from "God's wounds!" and generally omitted or changed in the folio in deference to the statute of James I. against the use of the name of God on the stage. Here the folio has "Come."

51. Zounds. Like 'swounds (see Ham. ii. 2. 604), an oath derived from "God's wounds!" and usually left out or altered in the folio, respecting the law from James I. that prohibited using God's name on stage. Here, the folio says "Come."

54. Reason coldly. Talk coolly or dispassionately. Cf. M. of V. ii. 8. 27: "I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday;" and Much Ado, iii. 2. 132: "bear it coldly but till midnight," etc.

54. Reason coldly. Speak calmly or without emotion. See M. of V. ii. 8. 27: "I debated with a Frenchman yesterday;" and Much Ado, iii. 2. 132: "handle it coolly but until midnight," etc.

"Benvolio presents a triple alternative: either to withdraw to a private place, or to discuss the matter quietly where they were, or else to part company; and it is supremely in character that on such an occasion he should perceive and suggest all these methods of avoiding public scandal" (White).

"Benvolio offers three options: either to move to a private place, to talk things over quietly right there, or to go their separate ways; and it’s very much in his character that he should recognize and propose all these ways to avoid a public scandal" (White).

55. Depart. Perhaps = part. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. ii. 6. 43: "A deadly groan, like life and death's departing," etc. So depart with = part with; as in K. John, ii. 1. 563:—

55. Depart. Maybe = part. Compare 3 Hen. VI. ii. 6. 43: "A deadly groan, like life and death's departure," etc. So depart with = part with; as in K. John, ii. 1. 563:—

"John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part," etc.

In the Marriage Ceremony "till death us do part" was originally "us depart." The word is used in the same sense in Wiclif's Bible, Matthew, xix. 6. On the other hand, part often = depart; as in T.N. v. 1. 394, Cor. v. 6. 73, T. of A. iv. 2. 21, etc.

In the Marriage Ceremony, "till death us do part" was originally "us depart." The word is used in the same sense in Wycliffe's Bible, Matthew, xix. 6. On the other hand, part often means depart; as in T.N. v. 1. 394, Cor. v. 6. 73, T. of A. iv. 2. 21, etc.

57. I. The repetition of the pronoun at the end of the sentence is common in S. Cf. T.G. of V. v. 4. 132: "I care not for her, I;" Rich. III. iii. 2. 78: "I do not like these several councils, I;"[Pg 221] T.A. v. 3. 113: "I am no vaunter, I;" Id. v. 3. 185: "I am no baby, I," etc. See also iii. 5. 12 below.

57. I. Ending a sentence with the same pronoun is common in S. See T.G. of V. v. 4. 132: "I don’t care for her, I;" Rich. III. iii. 2. 78: "I don’t like these different councils, I;" [Pg 221] T.A. v. 3. 113: "I’m not a bragger, I;" Id. v. 3. 185: "I’m no child, I," etc. Also see iii. 5. 12 below.

62. The hate I bear thee. The reading of 1st quarto. The other early eds. have "love"; but Tybalt is not given to irony.

62. The hate I bear thee. The reading of the first quarto. The other early editions have "love"; but Tybalt isn't the type to use irony.

64. Love. Delius says that this "is of course ironical," but the reiteration in the next speech shows that it is not. Romeo's love for Juliet embraces, in a way, all her kindred. His heart, as Talfourd expresses it in Ion,—

64. Love. Delius points out that this "is obviously sarcastic," but the repetition in the next line indicates that it isn't. Romeo's love for Juliet includes, in a sense, all her family. His heart, as Talfourd puts it in Ion,—

"Enlarge'd by its new sympathy with one,
Grew bountiful to all."

65. Appertaining rage, etc. That is, the rage appertaining to (belonging to, or becoming) such a greeting. Cf. Macb. iii. 6. 48:—

65. Appertaining rage, etc. In other words, the anger related to such a greeting. See Macb. iii. 6. 48:—

"our suffering country
Under a hand accurst."

68. Boy. Often used contemptuously; as in Much Ado. v. 1. 83, 187, Cor. v. 6. 101, 104, 117, etc.

68. Boy. Often used in a disrespectful way; as in Much Ado. v. 1. 83, 187, Cor. v. 6. 101, 104, 117, etc.

73. Tender. Regard, cherish. Cf. Ham. i. 3. 107: "Tender yourself more dearly," etc.

73. Tender. Look after, appreciate. Cf. Ham. i. 3. 107: "Value yourself more," etc.

76. A la stoccata. Capell's emendation of the "Alla stucatho" or "Allastucatho" of the early eds. Stoccata is the Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. It is the same as the "stoccado" of M.W. ii. 1. 234, the "stock" of Id. ii. 3. 26, and the "stuck" of T.N. iii. 4. 303 and Ham. iv. 7. 162. Carries it away = carries the day.

76. A la stoccata. Capell's correction of the "Alla stucatho" or "Allastucatho" from the early editions. Stoccata is the Italian word for a thrust or stab with a rapier. It's the same as the "stoccado" in M.W. ii. 1. 234, the "stock" in Id. ii. 3. 26, and the "stuck" in T.N. iii. 4. 303 and Ham. iv. 7. 162. Carries it away means carries the day.

79. King of cats. See on ii. 4. 20 above. On nine lives, cf. Marston, Dutch Courtezan: "Why then thou hast nine lives like a cat," etc. A little black-letter book, Beware the Cat, 1584, says that it was permitted to a witch "to take on her a cattes body nine times." Trusler, in his Hogarth Moralized, remarks: "The conceit of a cat's having nine lives hath cost at least nine lives in ten of the whole race of them. Scarce a boy in the streets but has in this point outdone even Hercules himself, who was renowned for killing a monster that had but three lives."

79. King of cats. See on ii. 4. 20 above. On nine lives, see Marston, Dutch Courtezan: "So you have nine lives like a cat," etc. A small black-letter book, Beware the Cat, 1584, mentions that it was allowed for a witch "to take on a cat's body nine times." Trusler, in his Hogarth Moralized, notes: "The idea of a cat having nine lives has probably cost at least nine lives for every ten of them. Almost every boy in the streets has outdone even Hercules himself, who was famous for defeating a monster that only had three lives."

81. Dry-beat. Beat soundly. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 263: "all dry-beaten with pure scoff." See also iv. 5. 120 below. S. uses the word only three times; but we have "dry basting" in C. of E. ii. 2. 64.

81. Dry-beat. Beat well. See L. L. L. v. 2. 263: "all dry-beaten with pure ridicule." Refer also to iv. 5. 120 below. S. uses this term only three times; however, we see "dry basting" in C. of E. ii. 2. 64.

83. Pilcher. Scabbard; but no other example of the word in this sense has been found. Pilch or pilche meant a leathern coat, and the word or a derivative of it may have been applied to the leathern sheath of a rapier.

83. Pilcher. Scabbard; but no other instance of the word in this context has been discovered. Pilch or pilche referred to a leather coat, and the term or a variation of it may have been used to describe the leather sheath of a rapier.

87. Passado. See on ii. 4. 27 above.

87. Passado. Refer to ii. 4. 27 above.

89. Outrage. A trisyllable here. Cf. entrance in i. 4. 8.

89. Outrage. A three-syllable word here. See entrance in i. 4. 8.

91. Bandying. Contending. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iv. 1. 190: "This factious bandying of their favourites." For the literal sense, see on ii. 5. 14 above.

91. Bandying. Arguing. See 1 Hen. VI. iv. 1. 190: "This rebellious exchange of their favorites." For the literal meaning, refer to ii. 5. 14 above.

92. The 1st quarto has here the stage-direction, "Tibalt under Romeos arme thrusts Mercutio in and flyes;" which some modern eds. retain substantially.

92. The first quarto includes the stage direction, "Tibalt under Romeo's arm thrusts Mercutio in and flees; which some modern editions keep mostly unchanged.

93. Sped. Dispatched, "done for." Cf. M. of V. ii. 9. 72: "So begone; you are sped;" T. of S. v. 2. 185: "We three are married, but you two are sped," etc. See also Milton, Lycidas, 122: "What need they? They are sped" (that is, provided for).

93. Sped. Sent off, "finished." See M. of V. ii. 9. 72: "So go away; you’re done for;" T. of S. v. 2. 185: "We three are married, but you two are done for," etc. Also refer to Milton, Lycidas, 122: "What do they need? They are taken care of."

100. Grave. Farmer cites Lydgate's Elegy on Chaucer: "My master Chaucer now is grave;" and Steevens remarks that we have the same quibble in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1608, where Vindice dresses up a lady's skull and says: "she has a somewhat grave look with her." Cf. John of Gaunt's play on his name when on his death-bed (Rich. II. ii. 1. 82).

100. Grave. Farmer references Lydgate's Elegy on Chaucer: "My master Chaucer is now serious;” and Steevens points out that we see a similar wordplay in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1608, where Vindice dresses up a lady's skull and notes, "she has a bit of a serious look about her." See also John of Gaunt's play on his name while on his deathbed (Rich. II. ii. 1. 82).

104. Fights by the book of arithmetic. Cf. ii. 4. 22 above: "keeps time, distance," etc.

104. Fights by the book of arithmetic. See ii. 4. 22 above: "keeps time, distance," etc.

111. Your houses! "The broken exclamation of a dying man, who has not breath to repeat his former anathema, 'A plague o' both your houses!'" (Marshall).

111. Your houses! "The fragmented shout of a dying man, who lacks the breath to say his earlier curse, 'A plague on both your houses!'" (Marshall).

113. My very friend. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 41: "his very friend;" M. of V. iii. 2. 226: "my very friends and countrymen," etc.

113. My very friend. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 41: "his true friend;" M. of V. iii. 2. 226: "my true friends and countrymen," etc.

116. Cousin. Some editors adopt the "kinsman" of 1st quarto; but cousin was often = kinsman. See on i. 5. 32 above.

116. Cousin. Some editors use "kinsman" from the first quarto; however, cousin was often used to mean kinsman. See on i. 5. 32 above.

120. Aspir'd. Not elsewhere used transitively by S. Cf. Chapman, Iliad, ix.: "and aspir'd the gods' eternal seats;" Marlowe, Tamburlaine: "our souls aspire celestial thrones," etc.

120. Aspir'd. Not used in a transitive way by S anywhere else. See Chapman, Iliad, ix.: "and aimed for the gods' eternal places;" Marlowe, Tamburlaine: "our souls aim for heavenly thrones," etc.

121. Untimely. Often used adverbially (like many adjectives in -ly); as in Macb. v. 8. 16, Ham. iv. 1. 40, etc. See also v. 3. 258 below.

121. Untimely. Often used as an adverb (like many adjectives ending in -ly); for example, in Macb. v. 8. 16, Ham. iv. 1. 40, etc. Also see v. 3. 258 below.

122. Depend. Impend (Schmidt). Cf. R. of L. 1615: "In me moe woes than words are now depending;" and Cymb. iv. 3. 23: "our jealousy Doth yet depend."

122. Depend. Impend (Schmidt). See R. of L. 1615: "I have more troubles than words can express;" and Cymb. iv. 3. 23: "our jealousy still hangs in the air."

126. Respective. Considerate. Cf. M. of V. v. 1. 156: "You should have been respective," etc.

126. Respective. Thoughtful. See M. of V. v. 1. 156: "You should have been respectful," etc.

127. Conduct. Conductor, guide. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 244:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Conductor, guide. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 244:—

"And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of;"

Rich. III. i. 1. 45: "This conduct to convey me to the Tower," etc. See also v. 3. 116 below.

Rich. III. i. 1. 45: "This behavior to take me to the Tower," etc. See also v. 3. 116 below.

129. For Mercutio's soul, etc. The passage calls to mind one similar yet very different in Hen. V. iv. 6. 15 fol.:—

129. For Mercutio's soul, etc. The passage reminds me of one that is similar but very different in Hen. V. iv. 6. 15 fol.:—

"And cries aloud, 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall keep thine company to heaven;
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our chivalry!'"

133. Consort. Accompany. Cf. C. of E. i. 2. 28: "And afterward consort you till bedtime;" J.C. v. 1. 83: "Who to Philippi here consorted us," etc. For the intransitive use of the word, see on 43 above.

133. Consort. Accompany. See C. of E. i. 2. 28: "And afterward hang out with you until bedtime;" J.C. v. 1. 83: "Who here joined us in Philippi," etc. For the intransitive use of the word, see 43 above.

137. Doom thee death. Cf. Rich. III. ii. 1. 102: "to doom my brother's death;" T.A. iv. 2. 114: "The emperor, in his[Pg 224] rage, will doom her death." Amazed = bewildered, stupefied; as often.

137. Doom thee death. Cf. Rich. III. ii. 1. 102: "to condemn my brother's death;" T.A. iv. 2. 114: "The emperor, in his[Pg 224] anger, will condemn her death." Amazed = confused, stunned; as often.

139. Fortune's fool. Made a fool of by fortune, the sport of fortune. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 195: "The natural fool of fortune." See also Ham. i. 4. 54: "we fools of nature;" and cf. M. for M. iii. 1. 11, Macb. ii. 1. 44, etc.

139. Fortune's fool. Made a fool of by luck, the plaything of fate. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 195: "The natural fool of fortune." See also Ham. i. 4. 54: "we fools of nature;" and cf. M. for M. iii. 1. 11, Macb. ii. 1. 44, etc.

145. Discover. Uncover, reveal. See on ii. 2. 106 above.

145. Discover. Uncover, reveal. See on ii. 2. 106 above.

146. Manage. "Bringing about" (Schmidt); or we may say that all the manage is simply = the whole course. The word means management, administration, in Temp. i. 2. 70: "the manage of my state;" M. of V. iii. 4. 25: "The husbandry and manage of my house," etc. It is especially used of horses; as in A.Y.L. i. 1. 13, etc.

146. Manage. "Bringing about" (Schmidt); or we might say that all the manage simply means the entire process. The word refers to management or administration, as seen in Temp. i. 2. 70: "the manage of my state;" M. of V. iii. 4. 25: "The husbandry and manage of my house," etc. It is particularly used in reference to horses, as in A.Y.L. i. 1. 13, etc.

156. Spoke him fair. Spoke gently to him. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 1. 199: "Do I entice you? do I speak you fair?" M. of V. iv. 1. 275: "Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death" (that is, speak well of me after I am dead), etc.

156. Spoke him fair. spoke softly to him. Cf. M.N.D. ii. 1. 199: "Am I tempting you? Am I speaking kindly to you?" M. of V. iv. 1. 275: "Say how much I loved you, speak kindly of me in death" (meaning, speak well of me after I'm gone), etc.

157. Nice. Petty, trivial. Cf. Rich. III. iii. 7. 175: "nice and trivial;" J.C. iv. 3. 8: "every nice offence," etc. See also v. 2. 18 below.

157. Nice. Minor, insignificant. See Rich. III. iii. 7. 175: "nice and trivial;" J.C. iv. 3. 8: "every nice offense," etc. Also refer to v. 2. 18 below.

160. Take truce. Make peace. Cf. V. and A. 82: "Till he take truce with her contending tears;" K. John, iii. 1. 17: "With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce," etc. Spleen = heat, impetuosity. Cf. K. John, iv. 3. 97: "thy hasty spleen;" Rich. III. v. 3. 350: "Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!" etc.

160. Take truce. Make peace. Cf. V. and A. 82: "Until he makes peace with her opposing tears;" K. John, iii. 1. 17: "With my troubled spirit, I can't find peace," etc. Spleen = passion, intensity. Cf. K. John, iv. 3. 97: "your quick temper;" Rich. III. v. 3. 350: "Inspire us with the passion of fiery dragons!" etc.

167. Retorts. Throws back; as in T. and C. iii. 3. 101:—

167. Retorts. Throws back; as in T. and C. iii. 3. 101:—

"Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver," etc.

171. Envious. Malicious; as often.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Malicious; frequently.

173. By and by. Presently. See on ii. 2. 151 above, and cf. iii. 3. 76 and v. 3. 284 below.

173. By and by. Right now. Refer to ii. 2. 151 above, and also see iii. 3. 76 and v. 3. 284 below.

180. Affection makes him false. "The charge, though produced at hazard, is very just. The author, who seems to intend the character[Pg 225] of Benvolio as good, meant, perhaps, to show how the best minds, in a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality" (Johnson).

180. Affection makes him false. "The accusation, though made carelessly, is quite valid. The author, who appears to portray Benvolio as a good character, might have intended to illustrate how even the best individuals can be swayed to unjust favoritism in times of conflict and division" (Johnson).

188. Concludes. For the transitive use (= end), cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 1. 153: "Will not conclude their plotted tragedy."

188. Concludes. For the transitive use (= end), see 2 Hen. VI. iii. 1. 153: "Will not conclude their plotted tragedy."

190. Exile. Accented by S. on either syllable. So also with the noun in iii. 3. 20 and v. 3. 211 below.

190. Exile. Emphasized by S. on both syllables. This is also the case with the noun in iii. 3. 20 and v. 3. 211 below.

193. Amerce. Used by S. only here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Used by S. only here.

196. Purchase out. Cf. buy out in C. of E. i. 2. 5, K. John, iii. 1. 164, Ham. iii. 3. 60, etc.

196. Purchase out. See buy out in C. of E. i. 2. 5, K. John, iii. 1. 164, Ham. iii. 3. 60, etc.

198. Hour. Metrically a dissyllable; as in ii. 5. 11 above. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 4. etc.

198. Hour. It's a two-syllable word; like in ii. 5. 11 above. See Temp. v. 1. 4. etc.

200. Mercy but murthers, etc. Malone quotes Hale, Memorials: "When I find myself swayed to mercy, let me remember likewise that there is a mercy due to the country."

200. Mercy but murthers, etc. Malone quotes Hale, Memorials: "When I feel tempted to be merciful, I should also remember that the country deserves mercy too."


Scene 2.

1. Gallop apace, etc. Malone remarks that S. probably remembered Marlowe's Edward II., which was performed before 1593:—

1. Gallop apace, etc. Malone notes that S. likely recalled Marlowe's Edward II., which was staged before 1593:—

"Gallop apace, bright Phœbus, through the skie,
And dusky night, in rusty iron car;
Between you both, shorten the time, I pray,
That I may see that most desired day;"

and Barnaby Rich's Farewell, 1583: "The day to his seeming passed away so slowely that he had thought the stately steedes had bin tired that drawe the chariot of the Sunne, and wished that Phaeton had beene there with a whippe." For the thought, cf. Temp. iv. 1. 30.

and Barnaby Rich's Farewell, 1583: "The day seemed to drag on so slowly that he thought the majestic horses pulling the chariot of the Sun were exhausted, and he wished that Phaeton had been there with a whip." For the thought, see Temp. iv. 1. 30.

3. Phaethon. For other allusions to the ambitious youth, see T.G. of V. iii. 1. 153, Rich. II. iii. 3. 178, and 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 33, ii. 6. 12.

3. Phaethon. For more references to the ambitious young person, see T.G. of V. iii. 1. 153, Rich. II. iii. 3. 178, and 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 33, ii. 6. 12.

6. That runaways' eyes may wink. This is the great crux of the play, and more has been written about it than would fill a volume[Pg 226] like this. The condensed summary of the comments upon it fills twenty-eight octavo pages of fine print in Furness, to which I must refer the curious reader. The early eds. have "runnawayes," "run-awayes," "run-awaies," or "run-aways." Those who retain this as a possessive singular refer it variously to Phœbus, Phaethon, Cupid, Night, the sun, the moon, Romeo, and Juliet; those who make it a possessive plural generally understand it to mean persons running about the streets at night. No one of the former list of interpretations is at all satisfactory. Personally, I am quite well satisfied to read runaways', and to accept the explanation given by Hunter and adopted by Delius, Schmidt, Daniel, and others. It is the simplest possible solution, and is favoured by the untalk'd of that follows. White objects to it that "runaway seems to have been used only to mean one who ran away, and that runagate, which had the same meaning then that it has now, would have suited the verse quite as well as runaway;" but, as Furnivall and others have noted, Cotgrave apparently uses runaway and runagate as nearly equivalent terms. In a letter in the Academy for Nov. 30, 1878, Furnivall, after referring to his former citations in favour of runaways = "runagates, runabouts," and to the fact that Ingleby and Schmidt have since given the same interpretation, adds, "But I still desire to cite an instance in which Shakspere himself renders Holinshed's 'runagates' by his own 'runaways.' In the second edition of Holinshed's Chronicle, 1587, which Shakspere used for his Richard III., he found the passage (p. 756, col. 2): 'You see further, how a company of traitors, thieves, outlaws, and runagates, be aiders and partakers of this feate and enterprise,' etc. And he turned it thus into verse (1st folio, p. 203):—

6. That runaways' eyes may wink. This is the main crux of the play, and there's been more written about it than could fill a book[Pg 226] like this. The condensed summary of comments on it takes up twenty-eight pages of fine print in Furness, which I recommend to any curious reader. The early editions have "runnawayes," "run-awayes," "run-awaies," or "run-aways." Those who keep this as a possessive singular associate it variously with Phœbus, Phaethon, Cupid, Night, the sun, the moon, Romeo, and Juliet; those who treat it as a possessive plural generally interpret it as meaning people running around the streets at night. None of the former interpretations is really satisfying. Personally, I’m content with reading runaways' and accepting the explanation provided by Hunter and taken up by Delius, Schmidt, Daniel, and others. It’s the simplest solution and is supported by the untalk'd of that follows. White argues that "runaway seems to have been used only to mean someone who ran away, and that runagate, which has the same meaning now as it did then, would fit the verse just as well as runaway;" but, as Furnivall and others have pointed out, Cotgrave seems to use runaway and runagate as almost interchangeable terms. In a letter published in the Academy on Nov. 30, 1878, Furnivall, after referring to his previous citations supporting runaways = "runagates, runabouts," and the fact that Ingleby and Schmidt have since offered the same interpretation, adds, "But I still want to mention an instance where Shakspere himself translates Holinshed's 'runagates' as his own 'runaways.' In the second edition of Holinshed's Chronicle, 1587, which Shakspere used for his Richard III., he found the passage (p. 756, col. 2): 'You see further, how a company of traitors, thieves, outlaws, and runagates, be aiders and partakers of this feate and enterprise,' etc. And he transformed it into verse (1st folio, p. 203):—

"'Remember whom you are to cope withall,
A sort of Vagabonds, Rascals, and Run-awayes,
A scum of Brittaines, and base Lackey Pezants,
Whom their o're-cloyed Country vomits forth
To desperate Aduentures, and assur'd Destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to vnrest.'" etc.

Herford regards this interpretation as "a prosaic idea;" but it seems to me perfectly in keeping with the character and the situation. The marriage was a secret one, and Juliet would not have Romeo, if seen, supposed to be a paramour visiting her by night. She knows also the danger he incurs if detected by her kinsmen. Cf. ii. 2. 64 fol. above.

Herford sees this interpretation as "a dull idea;" but it seems to me to perfectly match the character and the situation. The marriage was a secret, and Juliet wouldn't want Romeo to be thought of as a lover visiting her at night if he were seen. She’s also aware of the danger he faces if her relatives catch him. Cf. ii. 2. 64 fol. above.

10. Civil. Grave, sober. Cf. M.W. ii. 2. 101: "a civil modest wife," etc.

10. Civil. Serious and composed. See M.W. ii. 2. 101: "a polite and modest wife," etc.

12. Learn. Teach; as often. Cf. A.Y.L. i. 2. 5, Cymb. i. 5. 12, etc.

12. Learn. Teach; as often. Cf. A.Y.L. i. 2. 5, Cymb. i. 5. 12, etc.

14. Hood my unmann'd blood, etc. The terms are taken from falconry. The hawk was hooded till ready to let fly at the game. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 7. 121: "'tis a hooded valour; and when it appears it will bate." An unmanned hawk was one not sufficiently trained to know the voice of her keeper (see on ii. 2. 159 above). To bate was to flutter or flap the wings, as the hawk did when unhooded and eager to fly. Cf. T. of S. iv. 1. 199:—

14. Hood my unmann'd blood, etc. The terms come from falconry. The hawk was hooded until it was ready to be released for the hunt. See Hen. V. iii. 7. 121: "'tis a hooded valour; and when it appears it will bate." An unmanned hawk was one that wasn't trained well enough to recognize its keeper's voice (refer to ii. 2. 159 above). To bate meant to flutter or flap its wings, like the hawk did when it was unhooded and eager to fly. See T. of S. iv. 1. 199:—

"as we watch these kites
That bate and beat and will not be obedient."

Dyce quotes Holmes, Acad. of Armory: "Bate, Bateing or Bateth, is when the Hawk fluttereth with her Wings either from Pearch or Fist, as it were striveing to get away; also it is taken from her striving with her Prey, and not forsaking it till it be overcome."

Dyce quotes Holmes, Acad. of Armory: "Bate, Bateing or Bateth, is when the Hawk flutters her Wings either from a Perch or a Hand, as if trying to escape; it also refers to her struggling with her Prey and not letting go until she has it defeated."

15. Strange. Reserved, retiring.

Reserved, introverted.

17. Come, Night, etc. Mrs. Jameson remarks: "The fond adjuration, 'Come, Night, come, Romeo, come thou day in night!' expresses that fulness of enthusiastic admiration for her lover which possesses her whole soul; but expresses it as only Juliet could or would have expressed it—in a bold and beautiful metaphor. Let it be remembered that, in this speech, Juliet is not supposed to be addressing an audience, nor even a confidante; and I confess I have been shocked at the utter want of taste and refinement in those who, with coarse derision, or in a spirit of prudery, yet more[Pg 228] gross and perverse, have dared to comment on this beautiful 'Hymn to the Night,' breathed out by Juliet in the silence and solitude of her chamber. She is thinking aloud; it is the young heart 'triumphing to itself in words.' In the midst of all the vehemence with which she calls upon the night to bring Romeo to her arms, there is something so almost infantine in her perfect simplicity, so playful and fantastic in the imagery and language, that the charm of sentiment and innocence is thrown over the whole; and her impatience, to use her own expression, is truly that of 'a child before a festival, that hath new robes and may not wear them.' It is at the very moment too that her whole heart and fancy are abandoned to blissful anticipation that the Nurse enters with the news of Romeo's banishment; and the immediate transition from rapture to despair has a most powerful effect."

17. Come, Night, etc. Mrs. Jameson comments: "The heartfelt plea, 'Come, Night, come, Romeo, come thou day in night!' shows her deep, enthusiastic admiration for her lover that fills her entire soul; but she expresses it in the bold and beautiful way only Juliet could or would. It’s important to remember that in this moment, Juliet isn’t speaking to an audience or even a close friend; and I must admit I’ve been appalled by the complete lack of taste and refinement in those who, either with crude mockery or in an even more offensive and prude manner, have dared to criticize this lovely 'Hymn to the Night,' spoken by Juliet in the quiet and solitude of her room. She is simply thinking aloud; it's the young heart 'triumphing to itself in words.' Amid all the passion with which she calls for the night to bring Romeo to her, there’s something almost childlike in her perfect simplicity, so playful and imaginative in her imagery and words, that the charm of sentiment and innocence surrounds the whole scene; and her impatience, as she describes it, is truly that of 'a child before a festival, who has new clothes and can’t wear them yet.' It’s also at the very moment when her entire heart and imagination are lost in blissful anticipation that the Nurse comes in with the news of Romeo’s banishment; and the sudden shift from ecstasy to despair is incredibly impactful."

18. For thou, etc. "Indeed, the whole of this speech is imagination strained to the highest; and observe the blessed effect on the purity of the mind. What would Dryden have made of it?" (Coleridge).

18. For thou, etc. "Honestly, this entire speech is pure imagination pushed to its limits; and see the wonderful impact it has on the clarity of the mind. What would Dryden think of it?" (Coleridge).

20. Black-brow'd Night. Cf. King John, v. 6. 17: "Why, here walk I in the black brow of night."

20. Black-brow'd Night. Cf. King John, v. 6. 17: "Why, here I am walking in the dark of night."

25. The garish sun. Johnson remarks: "Milton had this speech in his thoughts when he wrote in Il Pens., 'Till civil-suited morn appear,' and 'Hide me from day's garish eye.'" S. uses garish only here and in Rich. III. iv. 4. 89: "a garish flag."

25. The garish sun. Johnson comments: "Milton was thinking of this speech when he wrote in Il Pens., 'Until civil-suited morning appears,' and 'Hide me from the glaring eye of day.'" S. uses garish only here and in Rich. III. iv. 4. 89: "a garish flag."

26, 27. I have bought, etc. There is a strange confusion of metaphors here. Juliet is first the buyer and then the thing bought. She seems to have in mind that what she says of herself is equally true of Romeo. In the next sentence she reverts to her own position.

26, 27. I have bought, etc. There's a weird mix-up of metaphors here. Juliet starts off as the buyer and then becomes the item being purchased. It seems she believes that what she says about herself also applies to Romeo. In the next sentence, she goes back to talking about her own situation.

30. That hath new robes, etc. Cf. Much Ado, iii. 2. 5: "Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your marriage as to show a child his new coat and forbid him to wear it." See also Macb. i. 7. 34.

30. That hath new robes, etc. Cf. Much Ado, iii. 2. 5: "No, that would be just as big of a stain on your marriage as showing a kid their new coat and telling them they can't wear it." See also Macb. i. 7. 34.

40. Envious. Malignant; as in i. 1. 148 and iii. 1. 171 above.

40. Envious. Harmful; as in i. 1. 148 and iii. 1. 171 above.

45. But ay. In the time of S. ay was commonly written and printed I, which explains the play upon the word here. Most editors print "but 'I'" here, but it does not seem necessary to the understanding of the quibble. Lines 45-51 evidently belong to the first draft of the play.

45. But ay. Back in the day, S. ay was often written and printed as I, which is the reason for the wordplay here. Most editors print "but 'I'" in this part, but it doesn’t seem essential for grasping the joke. Lines 45-51 clearly belong to the first draft of the play.

47. Death-darting eye, etc. The eye of the fabled cockatrice or basilisk was said to kill with a glance. Cf. T.N. iii. 4. 215: "they will kill one another by the look, like two cockatrices;" Rich. III. iv. 1. 55:—

47. Death-darting eye, etc. The legendary eye of the cockatrice or basilisk was believed to be lethal with just one look. See T.N. iii. 4. 215: "they will kill each other with a gaze, like two cockatrices;" Rich. III. iv. 1. 55:—

"A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murtherous," etc.

49. Those eyes. That is, Romeo's.

That’s Romeo's.

51. Determine of. Decide. Cf. 2 Hen IV. iv. 1. 164:—

51. Determine of. Make a choice. Cf. 2 Hen IV. iv. 1. 164:—

"To hear and absolutely to determine
Of what conditions we shall stand upon."

See also T.G. of V. ii. 4. 181, Rich. III. iii. 4. 2, etc.

See also T.G. of V. ii. 4. 181, Rich. III. iii. 4. 2, etc.

53. God save the mark! An exclamation of uncertain origin, commonly = saving your reverence, but sometimes, as here = God have mercy! Cf. 1 Hen. IV. i. 3. 56. So God bless the mark! in M. of V. ii. 2. 25, Oth. i. 1. 33, etc.

53. God save the mark! An expression of unclear origin, usually meaning "save your reverence," but at times, like here, means "God have mercy!" See 1 Hen. IV. i. 3. 56. Similarly, God bless the mark! appears in M. of V. ii. 2. 25, Oth. i. 1. 33, and so forth.

56. Gore-blood. Clotted blood. Forby remarks that the combination is an East-Anglian provincialism. Halliwell-Phillipps cites Vicars, trans, of Virgil, 1632: "Whose hollow wound vented much black gore-bloud." Swounded is the reading of the 1st quarto; the other early eds. have "sounded," "swouned," and "swooned." In R. of. L. 1486 we have "swounds" rhyming with "wounds."

56. Gore-blood. Clotted blood. Forby notes that this combination is a dialect from East Anglia. Halliwell-Phillipps references Vicars' translation of Virgil, 1632: "Whose hollow wound vented much black gore-blood." Swounded is how the first quarto reads; other early editions have "sounded," "swouned," and "swooned." In R. of. L. 1486, we see "swounds" rhyming with "wounds."

57. Bankrupt. The early eds. have "banckrout" or "bankrout," as often in other passages and other writers of the time.

57. Bankrupt. The earlier editions use "banckrout" or "bankrout," similar to other texts and authors from that period.

64. Contrary. The adjective is accented by S. on the first or second syllable. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 221, etc. For the verb, see on i. 5. 87 above.

64. Contrary. The adjective is stressed on the first or second syllable. See Ham. iii. 2. 221, etc. For the verb, refer to i. 5. 87 above.

73. O serpent heart, etc. Cf. Macb. i. 5. 66:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. Cf. Macb. i. 5. 66:—

"look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it."

Mrs. Jameson remarks on this passage: "This highly figurative and antithetical exuberance of language is defended by Schlegel on strong and just grounds; and to me also it appears natural, however critics may argue against its taste or propriety. The warmth and vivacity of Juliet's fancy, which plays like a light over every part of her character—which animates every line she utters—which kindles every thought into a picture, and clothes her emotions in visible images, would naturally, under strong and unusual excitement, and in the conflict of opposing sentiments, run into some extravagance of diction." Cf. i. 1. 168 fol. above.

Mrs. Jameson comments on this passage: "This highly figurative and contrasting enthusiasm in language is supported by Schlegel on solid and valid grounds; and I also find it natural, despite what critics may say about its taste or appropriateness. The warmth and energy of Juliet's imagination, which shines a light on every aspect of her character—animating every line she speaks—turning every thought into a vivid image, and dressing her emotions in visible forms, would logically, under intense and unusual excitement, and amidst conflicting feelings, lead to some extravagance in wording." Cf. i. 1. 168 fol. above.

83. Was ever book, etc. Cf. i. 3. 66 above.

83. Was ever book, etc. See i. 3. 66 above.

84. O, that deceit, etc. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 468: "If the ill spirit have so fair a house," etc.

84. O, that deceit, etc. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 468: "If the evil spirit has such a beautiful place," etc.

86, 87. Mr. Fleay improves the metre by a slight transposition, which Marshall adopts:—

86, 87. Mr. Fleay enhances the meter with a small adjustment, which Marshall accepts:—

"No faith, no honesty in men; all naught,
All perjur'd, all dissemblers, all forsworn;"

which may be what S. wrote.

which may be what S. wrote.

Naught = worthless, bad. Cf. Much Ado, $1. $2. 157, Hen. V. i. 2. 73, etc. The word in this sense is usually spelt naught in the early eds., but nought when = nothing. Dissemblers is here a quadrisyllable. See p. 159 above.

Naught = worthless, bad. See Much Ado, $1. $2. 157, Hen. V. i. 2. 73, etc. The word in this sense is usually spelled naught in the early editions, but nought when it means nothing. Dissemblers is pronounced as a four-syllable word here. See p. 159 above.

90. Blister'd, etc. "Note the Nurse's mistake of the mind's audible struggle with itself for its decisions in toto" (Coleridge).

90. Blister'd, etc. "Pay attention to the Nurse's misunderstanding of the mind's internal battle with itself over its choices in toto" (Coleridge).

92. Upon his brow, etc. Steevens quotes Paynter: "Is it possible that under such beautie and rare comelinesse, disloyaltie and treason may have their siedge and lodging?" The image of shame sitting on the brow is not in Brooke's poem.

92. Upon his brow, etc. Steevens quotes Paynter: "Is it possible that with such beauty and rare charm, disloyalty and treason can take root?" The image of shame sitting on the brow is not in Brooke's poem.

98. Poor my lord. Cf. "sweet my mother," iii. 5. 198 below.[Pg 231] The figurative meaning of smooth is sufficiently explained by the following mangle. Cf. i. 5. 98 above, and see Brooke's poem:—

98. Poor my lord. See "sweet my mother," iii. 5. 198 below.[Pg 231] The figurative meaning of smooth is clearly explained by the following mangle. See i. 5. 98 above, and check out Brooke's poem:—

"Ah cruell murthering tong, murthrer of others fame:
How durst thou once attempt to tooch the honor of his name?
*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *
Whether shall he (alas) poore banishd man, now flye?
What place of succor shall he seeke beneth the starry skye?
Synce she pursueth him, and him defames by wrong:
That in distres should be his fort, and onely rampier strong."

108. Worser. Cf. ii. 3. 29 above. S. uses it often, both as adjective and adverb.

108. Worser. See ii. 3. 29 above. S. uses it frequently, both as an adjective and an adverb.

112. Banished. Note how the trisyllabic pronunciation is emphatically repeated in this speech; as in Romeo's in the next scene (19-50).

112. Banished. Notice how the three-syllable pronunciation is strongly repeated in this speech, just like in Romeo's in the next scene (19-50).

116. Sour woe delights, etc. That is, "misfortunes never come single." Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 78:—

116. Sour woe delights, etc. That is, "bad things never happen one at a time." Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 78:—

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions."

117. Needly will. Needs must. Needly was not coined by S., as some have supposed, being found in Piers Plowman and other early English. He uses it only here.

117. Needly will. It’s necessary. Needly wasn’t created by S., as some have thought, since it appears in Piers Plowman and other early English texts. He only uses it in this context.

120. Modern. Trite, commonplace; the only meaning of the word in S. See A.Y.L. ii. 7. 156, Macb. iv. 3. 170, etc.

120. Modern. Dull, ordinary; that’s the only meaning of the word in S. See A.Y.L. ii. 7. 156, Macb. iv. 3. 170, etc.

121. Rearward. Cf. Sonn. 90. 6:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cf. Sonnet 90. 6:—

"Ah! do not, when my heart hath scap'd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe"—

(that is, to attack me anew); and Much Ado, iv. 1. 128:—

(that is, to attack me again); and Much Ado, iv. 1. 128:—

"Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches,
Strike at thy life."

The metaphor is a military one, referring to a rear-guard or reserve which follows up the attack of the vanguard or of the main army.

The metaphor comes from the military, referring to a rear guard or reserve that supports the attack of the front line or main army.

126. Sound. Utter, express; or "'to sound as with a plummet'[Pg 232] is possible" (Dowden). That word's death = the death implied in that word.

126. Sound. Utter, express; or "'to sound like a plummet'[Pg 232] is possible" (Dowden). The death of that word = the death suggested by that word.

130. Wash they, etc. That is, let them wash, etc. Some eds. put an interrogation mark after tears, as the 2d quarto does.

130. Wash they, etc. In other words, let them wash, etc. Some editions put a question mark after tears, like the second quarto does.

137. Wot. Know; used only in the present tense and the participle wotting.

137. Wot. Know; used only in the present tense and the participle wotting.


Scene 3.

1. Fearful. Full of fear, afraid; Cf. M.N.D. v. 1. 101, 165, etc.

1. Fearful. Filled with fear, scared; Cf. M.N.D. v. 1. 101, 165, etc.

2. Parts. Gifts, endowments. Cf. iii. 5. 181 below: "honourable parts."

2. Parts. Gifts, contributions. See iii. 5. 181 below: "honorable parts."

6. Familiar. A quadrisyllable here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A four-syllable word here.

7. Sour company. Cf. "sour woe" in iii. 2. 116 above, "sour misfortune" in v. 3. 82 below, etc. The figurative sense is a favourite one with S.

7. Sour company. See "sour woe" in iii. 2. 116 above, "sour misfortune" in v. 3. 82 below, etc. The figurative meaning is a favorite one with S.

10. Vanish'd. A singular expression, which Massinger has imitated in The Renegado, v. 5: "Upon those lips from which those sweet words vanish'd." In R. of L. 1041 the word is used of the breath.

10. Vanish'd. A unique phrase that Massinger copied in The Renegado, v. 5: "From those lips where those sweet words disappeared." In R. of L. 1041, the term refers to breath.

20. Exile. For the variable accent (cf. 13 above and 43 below), see on iii. 1. 190.

20. Exile. For the way the accent changes (see 13 above and 43 below), refer to iii. 1. 190.

26. Rush'd aside the law. Promptly eluded or contravened the law. The expression is peculiar, and may be corrupt. "Push'd" and "brush'd" have been suggested as emendations.

26. Rush'd aside the law. Quickly avoided or broke the law. The wording is strange and might be incorrect. "Pushed" and "brushed" have been proposed as corrections.

28. Dear mercy. True mercy. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 129: "A dear happiness to women," etc.

28. Dear mercy. Genuine compassion. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 129: "A precious joy for women," etc.

29. Heaven is here, etc. "All deep passions are a sort of atheists, that believe no future" (Coleridge).

29. Heaven is here, etc. "All intense passions are kind of atheists, believing in no future" (Coleridge).

33. Validity. Value, worth. Cf. A.W. v. 3. 192:—

Value, worth. See A.W. v. 3. 192:—

"O, behold this ring,
Whose high respect and rich validity
Did lack a parallel."

See also T.N. i. 1. 12 and Lear, i. 1. 83.

See also T.N. i. 1. 12 and Lear, i. 1. 83.

34. Courtship. Courtesy, courtliness (as in L. L. L. v. 2. 363: "Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state," etc.); with the added idea of privilege of courting or wooing. For a similar blending of the two meanings, cf. A.Y.L. iii. 2. 364.

34. Courtship. Politeness, elegance (as in L. L. L. v. 2. 363: "Stylish young men, full of charm and sophistication," etc.); with the extra idea of having the right to court or pursue someone. For a similar mix of the two meanings, see A.Y.L. iii. 2. 364.

38. Who. Cf. i. 1. 109 and i. 4. 97 above.

38. Who. See i. 1. 109 and i. 4. 97 above.

42. Free men. Bitterly sarcastic.

Bitterly sarcastic.

45. Mean. Often used by S. in the singular, though oftener in the plural. Cf. W.T. iv. 4. 89:—

45. Mean. Commonly used by S. in the singular, but more often in the plural. See W.T. iv. 4. 89:—

"Yet nature is made better by no mean,
But nature makes that mean," etc.

See also v. 3. 240 below.

See also v. 3. 240 below.

48. Howling. For the association with hell, cf. 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 374 and Ham. v. 1. 265.

48. Howling. For the connection to hell, see 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 374 and Ham. v. 1. 265.

49. Confessor. For the accent, see on ii. 6. 21 above.

49. Confessor. For the accent, refer to ii. 6. 21 above.

52. Fond = foolish; as often in S. Cf. iv. 5. 78 below.

52. Fond = stupid; like frequently seen in S. See iv. 5. 78 below.

55. Adversity's sweet milk. Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 98: "the sweet milk of concord," etc.

55. Adversity's sweet milk. Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 98: "the sweet milk of harmony," etc.

59. Displant. Transplant. S. uses the word only here and in Oth. ii. 1. 283: "the displanting of Cassio."

59. Displant. Transplant. S. uses the term only here and in Oth. ii. 1. 283: "the removal of Cassio."

60. Prevails. Avails. Cf. unprevailing in Ham. i. 2. 107.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Avails. Cf. unprevailing in Ham. i. 2. 107.

62. When that. This use of that as a "conjunctional affix" is common. Cf. ii. 6. 25 above.

62. When that. Using that as a "conjunctional affix" is common. See ii. 6. 25 above.

63. Dispute. That is, reason. The verb is used transitively in a similar sense in W.T. iv. 4. 411 and Macb. iv. 3. 220.

63. Dispute. In other words, to reason. The verb is used in a similar way as a transitive verb in W.T. iv. 4. 411 and Macb. iv. 3. 220.

70. Taking the measure, etc. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 6. 2: "Here lie I down, and measure out my grave."

70. Taking the measure, etc. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 6. 2: "Here I lie down and mark out my grave."

77. Simpleness. Folly. Elsewhere = simplicity, innocence; as in Much Ado, iii. 1. 70, M.N.D. v. 1. 83, etc. Cf. simple in ii. 5. 38 and iii. 1. 35.

77. Simpleness. Foolishness. Elsewhere = straightforwardness, naivety; as in Much Ado, iii. 1. 70, M.N.D. v. 1. 83, etc. See simple in ii. 5. 38 and iii. 1. 35.

85. O woful sympathy, etc. The early eds. give this speech to the Nurse. Farmer transferred it to the Friar, and is followed by most of the modern eds.

85. O woful sympathy, etc. The earlier editions attribute this speech to the Nurse. Farmer moved it to the Friar, and most modern editions follow this change.

90. O. Grief, affliction. In Lear, i. 4. 212, it means a cipher.[Pg 234] It is also used for anything circular; as marks of small-pox (L. L. L. v. 2. 45), stars (M.N.D. iii. 2. 188), a theatre (Hen. V. prol. 13), and the earth (A. and C. v. 2. 81).

90. O. Grief, suffering. In Lear, i. 4. 212, it refers to a code. [Pg 234] It’s also used for anything round; like marks of smallpox (L. L. L. v. 2. 45), stars (M.N.D. iii. 2. 188), a theater (Hen. V. prol. 13), and the earth (A. and C. v. 2. 81).

94. Old. Practised, experienced. Cf. L. L. L. ii. 1. 254, v. 2. 552, T. and C. i. 2. 128, ii. 2. 75, etc.

94. Old. Skilled, knowledgeable. See L. L. L. ii. 1. 254, v. 2. 552, T. and C. i. 2. 128, ii. 2. 75, etc.

98. My conceal'd lady. Not known to the world as my wife. Conceal'd is accented on the first syllable because before the noun.

98. My conceal'd lady. Not recognized by others as my wife. Conceal'd has the emphasis on the first syllable since it comes before the noun.

103. Level. Aim; as in Sonn. 117. 11: "the level of your frown;" Hen. VIII. i. 2. 2: "the level Of a full-charg'd confederacy," etc. Cf. the use of the verb in Much Ado, ii. 1. 239, Rich. III. iv. 4. 202, etc.

103. Level. Aim; as in Sonn. 117. 11: "the intensity of your frown;" Hen. VIII. i. 2. 2: "the force of a well-prepared alliance," etc. See the use of the verb in Much Ado, ii. 1. 239, Rich. III. iv. 4. 202, etc.

106. Anatomy. Contemptuous for body; as in T.N. iii. 2. 67.

106. Anatomy. Disdainful of the physical; as in T.N. iii. 2. 67.

108. Hold thy desperate hand! etc. Up to this point, as Marshall remarks, the Friar "treats Romeo's utter want of self-control with a good-humoured tolerance.... It is only when the young man's passion threatens to go to the point of violating the law of God and man that he speaks with the authority of a priest, and in the tone of stern rebuke. This speech is a most admirable composition, full of striking good sense, eloquent reasoning, and noble piety."

108. Hold thy desperate hand! etc. Up to this point, as Marshall points out, the Friar "handles Romeo's complete lack of self-control with a light-hearted tolerance.... It’s only when the young man's feelings start to tip into breaking the laws of God and society that he speaks with the authority of a priest and in a tone of serious reprimand. This speech is a truly excellent piece, filled with sharp common sense, persuasive reasoning, and deep piety."

109. Art thou, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"Art thou quoth he a man? thy shape saith, so thou art:
Thy crying and thy weping eyes, denote a womans hart.
For manly reason is quite from of [off] thy mynd outchased,
And in her stead affections lewd, and fancies highly placed.
So that I stoode in doute this howre (at the least)
If thou a man, or woman wert, or els a brutish beast."

113. Ill-beseeming. Cf. i. 5. 76 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See i. 5. 76 above.

115. Better temper'd. Of better temper or quality. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. i. 1. 115: "the best temper'd courage in his troops."

115. Better temper'd. Of better mood or quality. See 2 Hen. IV. i. 1. 115: "the best tempered courage in his troops."

118. Doing damned hate. Cf. v. 2. 20 below: "do much danger," etc.

118. Doing damned hate. See v. 2. 20 below: "face a lot of danger," etc.

119. Why rail'st thou, etc. Malone remarks that Romeo has[Pg 235] not here railed on his birth, etc., though in Brooke's poem he does:—

119. Why rail'st thou, etc. Malone points out that Romeo hasn’t complained about his birth here, etc., even though he does in Brooke's poem:—

"And then, our Romeus, with tender handes ywrong:
With voyce, with plaint made horce, wͭ sobs, and with a foltring tong,
Renewd with nouel mone the dolours of his hart,
His outward dreery cheere bewrayde, his store of inward smart,
Fyrst nature did he blame, the author of his lyfe,
In which his ioyes had been so scant, and sorrowes aye so ryfe:
The time and place of byrth, he fiersly did reproue,
He cryed out (with open mouth) against the starres aboue," etc.

In his reply the Friar asks:—

In his response, the Friar asks:—

"Why cryest thou out on loue? why doest thou blame thy fate?
Why dost thou so crye after death? thy life why dost thou hate?"

122. Wit. See on i. 4. 47 above.

122. Wit. Refer to i. 4. 47 above.

127. Digressing. Deviating, departing. It is = transgressing in Rich. II. v. 3. 66: "thy digressing son."

127. Digressing. Straying, leaving. It means = breaking the rules in Rich. II. v. 3. 66: "your wandering son."

132. Like powder, etc. See on ii. 6. 10 above. Steevens remarks: "The ancient English soldiers, using match-locks instead of flints, were obliged to carry a lighted match hanging at their belts, very near to the wooden flask in which they kept their powder."

132. Like powder, etc. See on ii. 6. 10 above. Steevens comments: "The old English soldiers, using match-locks instead of flints, had to carry a lit match hanging from their belts, quite close to the wooden flask where they stored their powder."

134. And thou, etc. And thou torn to pieces with thine own means of defence.

134. And thou, etc. And you are torn to pieces by your own means of defense.

144. Pout'st upon. Cf. Cor. v. 1. 52: "We pout upon the morning."

144. Pout'st upon. Cf. Cor. v. 1. 52: "We sulk in the morning."

151. Blaze. Make public. Cf. blazon in ii. 6. 26 above, and emblaze in 2 Hen. VI. iv. 10. 76.

151. Blaze. Make it known. See blazon in ii. 6. 26 above, and emblaze in 2 Hen. VI. iv. 10. 76.

154. Lamentation. Metrically five syllables.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Five syllables.

157. Apt unto. Inclined to, ready for. Cf. iii. 1. 32 above.

157. Apt unto. Open to, prepared for. See iii. 1. 32 above.

166. Here stands, etc. "The whole of your fortune depends on this" (Johnson). Cf. ii. 3. 93 and ii. 4. 34 above.

166. Here stands, etc. "Your entire fortune relies on this" (Johnson). See ii. 3. 93 and ii. 4. 34 above.

171. Good hap. Piece of good luck. Cf. ii. 2. 190 above.

171. Good hap. A stroke of good luck. See ii. 2. 190 above.

174. So brief to part. To part so soon.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ To leave so soon.


Scene 4.

11. Mew'd up. Shut up. Cf. T of S. i. 1. 87, 188, etc. Mew originally meant to moult, or shed the feathers; and as hawks were then shut up, it got the secondary sense it has here.

11. Mew'd up. Be quiet. Cf. T of S. i. 1. 87, 188, etc. Mew originally meant to shed feathers; and since hawks were kept in confinement, it took on the secondary meaning it has here.

12. Desperate. Overbold, venturesome.

Overconfident, daring.

23. Keep no great ado. Elsewhere in S. the phrase is, as now, make ado. Cf. T.G. of V. iv. 4. 31, 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 223, Hen. VIII. v. 3. 159, etc.

23. Keep no great ado. In other parts of S., the expression is, as it is now, make ado. See T.G. of V. iv. 4. 31, 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 223, Hen. VIII. v. 3. 159, etc.

25. Held him carelessly. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. ii. 2. 109: "I hold thee reverently;" Id. ii. 1. 102: "held thee dearly," etc.

25. Held him carelessly. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. ii. 2. 109: "I respect you deeply;" Id. ii. 1. 102: "valued you a lot," etc.

28. And there an end. Cf. T.G. of V. i. 3. 65, ii. 1. 168, Rich. II. v. 1. 69, etc.

28. And there an end. See T.G. of V. i. 3. 65, ii. 1. 168, Rich. II. v. 1. 69, etc.

32. Against. Cf. iv. 1. 113 below: "against thou shalt awake."

32. Against. See iv. 1. 113 below: "before you wake up."

34. Afore me. "By my life, by my soul" (Schmidt). Cf. Per. ii. 1. 84: "Now, afore me, a handsome fellow!" So before me, as in T.N. ii. 3. 194, Oth. iv. 1. 149, etc.

34. Afore me. "By my life, by my soul" (Schmidt). Cf. Per. ii. 1. 84: "Now, in front of me, a good-looking guy!" So in front of me, as in T.N. ii. 3. 194, Oth. iv. 1. 149, etc.

35. By and by. Presently. See on ii. 2. 151 above.

35. By and by. Right now. Refer to ii. 2. 151 above.


Scene 5.

Juliet's Chamber. The scene is variously given by the editors as "The Garden," "Anti-room of Juliet's Chamber," "Loggia to Juliet's Chamber," "An open Gallery to Juliet's Chamber overlooking the Orchard," "Juliet's Bedchamber; a Window open upon the Balcony," "Capulet's Orchard," etc. As Malone remarks, Romeo and Juliet probably appeared in the balcony at the rear of the old English stage. "The scene in the poet's eye was doubtless the large and massy projecting balcony before one or more windows, common in Italian palaces and not unfrequent in Gothic civil architecture. The loggia, an open gallery, or high terrace [see cut on p. 85], communicating with the upper apartments of a palace, is a common feature in Palladian architecture, and would also be well adapted to such a scene" (Verplanck).

Juliet's Chamber. The scene is described by various editors as "The Garden," "The Waiting Room of Juliet's Chamber," "The Loggia to Juliet's Chamber," "An Open Gallery to Juliet's Chamber Overlooking the Orchard," "Juliet's Bedroom; a Window Open onto the Balcony," "Capulet's Orchard," etc. As Malone points out, Romeo and Juliet likely appeared on the balcony at the back of the old English stage. "The scene in the poet's view was probably the large and sturdy projecting balcony in front of one or more windows, which is common in Italian palaces and also not infrequent in Gothic civil architecture. The loggia, an open gallery or high terrace [see cut on p. 85], connecting with the upper floors of a palace, is a typical feature in Palladian architecture, and would also be well suited for such a scene" (Verplanck).

4. Nightly. It is said that the nightingale, if undisturbed, sits and sings upon the same tree for many weeks together (Steevens). This is because the male bird sings near where the female is sitting. "The preference of the nightingale for the pomegranate is unquestionable.[Pg 237] 'The nightingale sings from the pomegranate groves in the daytime,' says Russel in his account of Aleppo. A friend ... informs us that throughout his journeys in the East he never heard such a choir of nightingales as in a row of pomegranate-trees that skirt the road from Smyrna to Boudjia" (Knight).

4. Nightly. It’s said that the nightingale, if left alone, sits and sings in the same tree for weeks on end (Steevens). This happens because the male bird sings close to where the female is perched. "The nightingale's preference for the pomegranate is without a doubt.[Pg 237] 'The nightingale sings from the pomegranate groves during the day,' says Russel in his account of Aleppo. A friend... tells us that throughout his travels in the East, he never heard a nightingale choir as beautiful as the one in a row of pomegranate trees lining the road from Smyrna to Boudjia" (Knight).

8. Lace. Cf. Macb. ii. 3. 118: "His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood;" Cymb. ii. 2. 22:—

8. Lace. Cf. Macb. ii. 3. 118: "His silver skin laced with his golden blood;" Cymb. ii. 2. 22:—

"white and azure lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct," etc.

See on ii. 4. 44 above. We have the word used literally in Much Ado, iii. 4. 20: "laced with silver." On the severing clouds, cf. J.C. ii. 1. 103:—

See on ii. 4. 44 above. We have the word used literally in Much Ado, iii. 4. 20: "laced with silver." On the severing clouds, cf. J.C. ii. 1. 103:—

"yon grey lines
That fret the clouds are messengers of day;"[6]

and Much Ado, v. 3. 25: "Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey."

and Much Ado, v. 3. 25: "Speckled the sleepy east with patches of grey."

9. Night's candles, etc. Cf. Macb. ii. 1. 5.: "Their candles are all out." See also M. of V. v. 1. 220 and Sonn. 21. 12.

9. Night's candles, etc. Cf. Macb. ii. 1. 5.: "Their candles are all out." See also M. of V. v. 1. 220 and Sonn. 21. 12.

13. Some meteor, etc. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 351: "My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations?" and Id. v. 1. 19: "an exhal'd meteor."

13. Some meteor, etc. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 351: "My lord, do you see these shooting stars? do you see these vapors?" and Id. v. 1. 19: "a rising meteor."

14. Torch-bearer. See on i. 4. 11 above.

14. Torch-bearer. Refer to i. 4. 11 above.

19. Yon grey. See on ii. 4. 44 above.

19. Yon grey. Refer to ii. 4. 44 above.

20. The pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. That is, the pale light of the moon shining through or reflected from the breaking clouds Brow is put for face, as in M.N.D. v. 1. 11: "Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt," etc. Some critics have thought that a setting moon was meant; but only a rising moon could light up "the severing clouds" in the way described. The reflection (if we take reflex in that literal sense) is from their edges, as the light from behind falls upon them. Have these critics never seen—

20. The pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. That is, the pale light of the moon shining through or reflecting off the breaking clouds. Brow refers to the face, like in M.N.D. v. 1. 11: "Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt," etc. Some critics have suggested that it refers to a setting moon, but only a rising moon could illuminate "the severing clouds" in the way described. The reflection (if we take reflex literally) comes from their edges, as the light from behind hits them. Have these critics never seen—

"a black cloud"
Turn forth her silver lining on the night"

when the moon was behind it?

when the moon was behind it?

21. Nor that is not. Double negatives are common in S.

21. Nor that is not. Double negatives are common in S.

22. The vaulty heaven. Cf. K. John, v. 2. 52: "the vaulty top of heaven;" and R. of L. 119: "her vaulty prison" (that is, Night's).

22. The vaulty heaven. Cf. K. John, v. 2. 52: "the arching ceiling of heaven;" and R. of L. 119: "her arching prison" (meaning Night's).

29. Division. "The breaking of a melody, or its descant, into small notes. The modern musician would call it variation" (Elson). Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 210:—

29. Division. "The breakdown of a melody, or its accompanying tune, into smaller notes. Today's musician would refer to it as variation" (Elson). Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 210:—

"Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
With ravishing division, to her lute."

The word is a quadrisyllable here.

The word has four syllables here.

31. The lark, etc. The toad having beautiful eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, it was a popular tradition that they had changed eyes. (Warburton).

31. The lark, etc. The toad had pretty eyes, while the lark had quite ugly ones, leading to the common belief that they had swapped eyes. (Warburton).

33. Affray. Startle from sleep; as Chaucer in Blaunche the Duchess (296) is affrayed out of his sleep by "smale foules" (Dowden).

33. Affray. Awaken abruptly from sleep; as Chaucer in Blaunche the Duchess (296) is frightened out of his sleep by "small birds" (Dowden).

34. Hunt's-up. The tune played to wake and collect the hunters (Steevens). Cf. Drayton, Polyolbion: "But hunts-up to the morn the feather'd sylvans sing;" and again in Third Eclogue: "Time plays the hunts-up to thy sleepy head." We have the full form in[Pg 239] T.A. ii. 2. 1: "The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey." The term was also applied to any morning song, and especially one to a new-married woman. Cotgrave (ed. 1632) defines resveil as "a Hunts-up, or morning song, for a new-maried wife, the day after the mariage."

34. Hunt's-up. The song played to wake and gather the hunters (Steevens). See Drayton, Polyolbion: "But hunts-up to the morn the feather'd sylvans sing;" and again in Third Eclogue: "Time plays the hunts-up to thy sleepy head." We have the full version in[Pg 239] T.A. ii. 2. 1: "The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey." The term was also used for any morning song, especially one for a newly married woman. Cotgrave (ed. 1632) defines resveil as "a Hunts-up, or morning song, for a new-married wife, the day after the marriage."

43. My lord, etc. From 1st quarto; the other quartos and 1st folio have "love, Lord, ay husband, friend," for which Dowden reads: "love-lord, ay, husband-friend." Friend was sometimes = lover; as in Much Ado, v. 2. 72, Oth. iv. 1. 3, A. and C. iii. 12. 22, Cymb. i. 4. 74, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem, where Juliet referring to Romeo, says:—

43. My lord, etc. From the 1st quarto; the other quartos and the 1st folio have "love, Lord, yes, husband, friend," which Dowden interprets as: "love-lord, yes, husband-friend." Friend sometimes meant lover; as seen in Much Ado, v. 2. 72, Oth. iv. 1. 3, A. and C. iii. 12. 22, Cymb. i. 4. 74, etc. See Brooke's poem, where Juliet refers to Romeo, saying:—

"For whom I am becomme vnto my selfe a foe,
Disdayneth me, his steadfast frend, and scornes my frendship so;"

and of their parting the poet says:—

and about their separation, the poet says:—

"With solemne othe they both theyr sorowfull leaue do take;
They sweare no stormy troubles shall theyr steady friendship shake."

44. Day in the hour. The hyperbole is explained by what follows.

44. Day in the hour. The exaggeration is clarified by what comes next.

53. I have an ill-divining soul. "This miserable prescience of futurity I have always regarded as a circumstance particularly beautiful. The same kind of warning from the mind Romeo seems to have been conscious of, on his going to the entertainment at the house of Capulet" (Steevens). See i. 4. 48 and 103 fol. above.

53. I have an ill-divining soul. "I've always seen this unfortunate ability to foresee the future as something quite beautiful. It reminds me of the warning that Romeo seemed to feel before going to the party at the Capulet's house" (Steevens). See i. 4. 48 and 103 fol. above.

54. Below. From 1st quarto; the other early eds. have "so lowe," which is preferred by some of the modern editors.

54. Below. From the 1st quarto; the other early editions say "so lowe," which some modern editors prefer.

58. Dry sorrow drinks our blood. An allusion to the old notion that sorrow and sighing exhaust the blood. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 97, Ham. iv. 7. 123, Much Ado, iii. 1. 78, etc.

58. Dry sorrow drinks our blood. A reference to the idea that sadness and sighing drain one's vitality. See M.N.D. iii. 2. 97, Ham. iv. 7. 123, Much Ado, iii. 1. 78, etc.

65. Down. Lying down, abed (Dowden).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lying down, in bed (Dowden).

66. Procures her. Leads her to come. Cf. ii. 2. 145 above. See also M.W. iv. 6. 48: "procure the vicar To stay for me," etc.

66. Procures her. Encourages her to arrive. Cf. ii. 2. 145 above. See also M.W. iv. 6. 48: "get the vicar to wait for me," etc.

67. Why, how now, Juliet! Mrs. Jameson remarks: "In the dialogue between Juliet and her parents, and in the scenes with[Pg 240] the Nurse, we seem to have before us the whole of her previous education and habits: we see her, on the one hand, kept in severe subjection by her austere parents; and, on the other, fondled and spoiled by a foolish old nurse—a situation perfectly accordant with the manners of the time. Then Lady Capulet comes sweeping by with her train of velvet, her black hood, her fan, and rosary—the very beau-ideal of a proud Italian matron of the fifteenth century, whose offer to poison Romeo, in revenge for the death of Tybalt, stamps her with one very characteristic trait of the age and the country. Yet she loves her daughter, and there is a touch of remorseful tenderness in her lamentations over her, which adds to our impression of the timid softness of Juliet and the harsh subjection in which she has been kept."

67. Why, how now, Juliet! Mrs. Jameson comments: "In the conversation between Juliet and her parents, and in the scenes with[Pg 240] the Nurse, we can see all of her past upbringing and habits: she is, on one hand, held in strict control by her stern parents; and, on the other hand, spoiled and coddled by a foolish old nurse—a situation that perfectly reflects the customs of the time. Then Lady Capulet sweeps in with her flowing velvet gown, black hood, fan, and rosary—the epitome of a proud Italian matron of the fifteenth century, whose proposal to poison Romeo, as revenge for Tybalt's death, highlights a very characteristic aspect of that era and culture. Yet, she does love her daughter, and there is a hint of regretful tenderness in her laments for her, which enhances our understanding of Juliet's timid softness and the harsh control she has endured."

69. Wash him from his grave, etc. The hyperbole may remind us of the one in Rich. II. iii. 3. 166 fol.

69. Wash him from his grave, etc. The exaggeration might make us think of the one in Rich. II. iii. 3. 166 fol.

72. Wit. See on iii. 3. 122 above.

72. Wit. Refer to iii. 3. 122 above.

73. Feeling. Heartfelt. Cf. "feeling sorrows" in W.T. iv. 2. 8 and Lear, iv. 6. 226.

73. Feeling. Sincere. See "feeling sorrows" in W.T. iv. 2. 8 and Lear, iv. 6. 226.

82. Like he. The inflections of pronouns are often confounded by S.

82. Like he. The variations in pronouns are often mixed up by S.

84. Ay, madam, etc. Johnson remarks that "Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed by the loss of a new lover." To this Clarke well replies: "It appears to us that, on the contrary, the evasions of speech here used by the young girl-wife are precisely those that a mind, suddenly and sharply awakened from previous inactivity, by desperate love and grief, into self-conscious strength, would instinctively use. Especially are they exactly the sort of shifts and quibbles that a nature rendered timid by stinted intercourse with her kind, and by communion limited to the innocent confidences made by one of her age in the confessional, is prone to resort to, when first left to itself in difficulties of situation and abrupt encounter with life's perplexities."

84. Ay, madam, etc. Johnson points out that "Juliet's evasions are a bit too clever for someone distressed by the loss of a new lover." In response, Clarke argues: "We believe that, on the contrary, the way the young girl-wife avoids direct answers here is exactly what someone, abruptly and intensely stirred from a period of inactivity by desperate love and grief, would naturally do. Particularly, these are the kinds of dodges and tricks that someone with a shy nature, shaped by limited social interaction and only innocent sharing in the confessional with peers, is likely to resort to when suddenly faced with challenging situations and the unexpected complexities of life."

87. In Mantua, etc. No critic, so far as I am aware, has noted the slip of which S. is guilty here. Romeo is said to be living in[Pg 241] Mantua, but an hour has hardly elapsed since he started for that city; and how can the lady know of the plan for his going there which was secretly suggested by the friar the afternoon before?

87. In Mantua, etc. No critic, as far as I know, has pointed out the mistake S. makes here. Romeo is said to be living in[Pg 241] Mantua, but hardly an hour has passed since he left for that city; and how could the lady be aware of the plan for his trip there that was secretly suggested by the friar the day before?

89. Shall give. The ellipsis of the relative is not uncommon.

89. Shall give. It's not unusual to have an ellipsis in relative clauses.

92. I never shall be satisfied, etc. Daniel remarks: "The several interpretations of which this ambiguous speech is capable are, I suppose: 1. I never shall be satisfied with Romeo; 2. I never shall be satisfied with Romeo till I behold him; 3. I never shall be satisfied with Romeo till I behold him dead; 4. Till I behold him, dead is my poor heart; 5. Dead is my poor heart, so for a kinsman vext."

92. I never shall be satisfied, etc. Daniel comments: "The different interpretations of this ambiguous statement could be: 1. I'll never be happy with Romeo; 2. I'll never be happy with Romeo until I see him; 3. I'll never be happy with Romeo until I see him dead; 4. My heart is broken until I see him; 5. My heart is broken, tormented because of a relative."

96. Temper. Compound, mix. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 339: "It is a poison temper'd by himself;" Cymb. v. 250: "To temper poisons for her," etc.

96. Temper. Combine, blend. See Ham. v. 2. 339: "It is a poison mixed by himself;" Cymb. v. 250: "To mix poisons for her," etc.

97. That. So that; as often. Receipt is not elsewhere applied by S. to the receiving of food or drink, though it is used of what is received in R. of L. 703 and Cor. i. 1. 116.

97. That. So that; as often. Receipt is not used in other contexts by S. to refer to the receiving of food or drink, even though it appears in relation to what is received in R. of L. 703 and Cor. i. 1. 116.

100. Cousin. Some editors add "Tybalt" (from 2d folio) to fill out the measure.

100. Cousin. Some editors include "Tybalt" (from the second folio) to complete the line.

104. Needy. Joyless. The word is = needful in Per. i. 4. 95: "needy bread."

104. Needy. Joyless. The word is necessary in Per. i. 4. 95: "needy bread."

105. They. S. makes tidings, like news (cf. ii. 5. 22 with ii. 5. 35), either singular or plural. Cf. J.C. iv. 3. 155: "That tidings;" Id. v. 3. 54: "These tidings," etc.

105. They. S. uses tidings in the same way as news (see ii. 5. 22 and ii. 5. 35), either singular or plural. See J.C. iv. 3. 155: "That tidings;" Id. v. 3. 54: "These tidings," etc.

108. Sorted out. Cf. 1. Hen. VI. ii. 3. 27: "I'll sort some other time to visit you," etc.

108. Sorted out. See 1. Hen. VI. ii. 3. 27: "I'll find another time to come see you," etc.

109. Nor I look'd not. See on iii. 5. 21 above.

109. Nor I look'd not. Refer to iii. 5. 21 above.

110. In happy time. Schmidt explains this as here = "à propos, pray tell me." Elsewhere it is = just in time; as in A.W. v. 1. 6, Ham. v. 2. 214, Oth. iii. 1. 32, etc.

110. In happy time. Schmidt explains this as here = "about, tell me." Elsewhere it is = just in time; as in A.W. v. 1. 6, Ham. v. 2. 214, Oth. iii. 1. 32, etc.

113. County. See on i. 3. 83 above.

113. County. Refer to i. 3. 83 above.

120. I swear. Collier thinks these words "hardly consistent with Juliet's character;" but, as Ulrici remarks, "they seem necessary in order to show her violent excitement, and thereby explain her[Pg 242] conduct." They appear to crowd the measure, but possibly "I will not marry yet" ("I'll not marry yet") may count only as two feet.

120. I swear. Collier believes these words are "barely in line with Juliet's character;" but, as Ulrici points out, "they seem necessary to illustrate her intense excitement, and thus explain her[Pg 242] behavior." They might feel rushed, but perhaps "I will not marry yet" ("I'll not marry yet") could be considered just two beats.

122. These are news. See on 105 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See 105 above.

125. The air. The reading of the 4th and 5th quartos; the other early eds. have "the earth," which is adopted by many editors. Hudson remarks: "This is scientifically true; poetically, it would seem better to read air instead of earth." It happens, however, that science and poetry agree here; for it is the watery vapour in the air that is condensed into dew. Malone, who also says that the reading earth is "philosophically true," cites R. of L. 1226: "But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set;" but this only means that the earth is wet with dew. To speak of the earth as drizzling dew is nonsense; we might as well say that it "drizzles rain" (Much Ado, iii. 3. 111). Elsewhere S. refers to the "falling" dew; as in K. John, ii. 1. 285, Hen. VIII. i. 3. 57, Cymb. v. 5. 351, etc.

125. The air. The reading of the 4th and 5th quartos; the other early editions use "the earth," which many editors have chosen to adopt. Hudson notes, "This is scientifically accurate; poetically, it seems better to use air instead of earth." However, science and poetry align here, since it’s the water vapor in the air that turns into dew. Malone, who also says the reading earth is "philosophically accurate," references R. of L. 1226: "But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set;" but this only indicates that the earth is wet with dew. To say the earth is drizzling dew is absurd; we might as well claim that it "drizzles rain" (Much Ado, iii. 3. 111). In other places, S. refers to "falling" dew, as seen in K. John, ii. 1. 285, Hen. VIII. i. 3. 57, Cymb. v. 5. 351, etc.

128. Conduit. Probably alluding to the human figures that spouted water in fountains. Cf. R. of L. 1234:—

128. Conduit. Likely referring to the human-shaped figures that sprayed water in fountains. See R. of L. 1234:—

"A pretty while these pretty creatures stand,
Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling."

See also W.T. v. 2. 60.

See also W.T. v. 2. 60.

129-136. Evermore ... body. This long-drawn "conceit" is evidently from the first draught of the play.

129-136. Evermore ... body. This lengthy "idea" clearly comes from the first draft of the play.

134. Who. See on i. 1. 109 above.

134. Who. Refer to i. 1. 109 above.

138. She will none. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 169: "Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none," etc.

138. She will none. Cf. M.N.D. iii. 2. 169: "Lysander, hold on to Hermia; I want nothing to do with her," etc.

140. Take me with you. Let me understand you. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 506: "I would your grace would take me with you; whom means your grace?"

140. Take me with you. I need to get what you're saying. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 506: "I wish you would take me with you; who do you mean, your grace?"

143. Wrought. "Not = induced, prevailed upon, but brought about, effected" (Schmidt). Cf. Henry VIII. iii. 2. 311: "You wrought to be a delegate;" Cor. ii. 3. 254: "wrought To be set high in place," etc.

143. Wrought. "Not persuaded or forced, but made it happen, caused it" (Schmidt). See Henry VIII. iii. 2. 311: "You made it happen to be a delegate;" Cor. ii. 3. 254: "made it happen to be elevated to a high position," etc.

144. Bridegroom. The 2d quarto has "Bride." This was used of both sexes in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, but S. never makes it masculine. The New Eng. Dict. quotes Sylvester, Du Bartas (1598): "Daughter dear ... Isis bless thee and thy Bride," etc.

144. Bridegroom. The second quarto has "Bride." This term was used for both genders in the 15th and 16th centuries, but Shakespeare never uses it as masculine. The New Eng. Dict. cites Sylvester, Du Bartas (1598): "Daughter dear ... Isis bless you and your Bride," etc.

148. Chop-logic. Sophist; used by S. only here.

148. Chop-logic. Sophist; used by S. only here.

150. Minion. Originally = favourite, darling (as in Temp. iv. 1. 98, Macb. i. 2. 19, etc.), then a spoiled favourite, and hence a pert or saucy person.

150. Minion. Originally = favorite, darling (as in Temp. iv. 1. 98, Macb. i. 2. 19, etc.), then a spoiled favorite, and therefore a sassy or cheeky person.

151. Thank me no thankings, etc. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 3. 87: "Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle," etc.

151. Thank me no thankings, etc. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 3. 87: "Don't show me any favor, and don't call me uncle," etc.

152. Fettle. Prepare, make ready. It is the reading of the quartos and 1st folio; the later folios have "settle," which may be what S. wrote. He does not use fettle elsewhere, and the long s and f were easily confounded in printing.

152. Fettle. Get ready, prepare. This is from the quartos and the 1st folio; the later folios say "settle," which might be what S. intended. He doesn't use fettle anywhere else, and the long s and f were easily mixed up in printing.

155. Out, etc. "Such was the indelicacy of the age of S. that authors were not contented only to employ these terms of abuse in their own original performances, but even felt no reluctance to introduce them in their versions of the most chaste and elegant of the Greek or Roman poets. Stanyhurst, the translator of Virgil, in 1582, makes Dido call Æneas hedge-brat, cullion, and tar-breech in the course of one speech. Nay, in the interlude of The Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567, Mary Magdalene says to one of her attendants, 'Horeson, I beshrowe your heart, are you here?'" (Steevens).

155. Out, etc. "The lack of sophistication during the time of S. was such that authors didn't just use insulting terms in their own works, but they also had no hesitation in including them in their translations of the most refined and elegant Greek or Roman poets. Stanyhurst, who translated Virgil in 1582, has Dido call Æneas a hedge-brat, a cullion, and a tar-breech all in one speech. Moreover, in the interlude The Repentance of Mary Magdalene, 1567, Mary Magdalene says to one of her attendants, 'Horeson, I curse your heart, are you here?'" (Steevens).

164. Lent. The 1st quarto has "sent," which some editors adopt. Clarke thinks it may be a misprint for "left," as Capulet (i. 2. 14) speaks as if he had had other children; but S. is careless in these minor matters. See on i. 5. 30 and v. 3. 207.

164. Lent. The first quarto says "sent," which some editors use. Clarke believes it might be a typo for "left," since Capulet (i. 2. 14) talks as if he had other children; however, S. is often careless about these small details. See on i. 5. 30 and v. 3. 207.

167. Hilding. See on ii. 4. 43 above.

167. Hilding. See on ii. 4. 43 above.

171. God ye god-den. See on i. 2. 57 above.

171. God ye god-den. See on i. 2. 57 above.

172. Peace. Theobald repeated the word for the sake of the measure. Peace may perhaps be metrically a dissyllable, as in A.Y.L. ii. 4. 70.

172. Peace. Theobald said the word again for the sake of the rhythm. Peace might actually be considered a two-syllable word, as seen in A.Y.L. ii. 4. 70.

175-177. God's bread! etc. The text of the early eds. is evidently corrupt here. The reading in the text is Malone's, and perhaps gives very nearly what S. wrote on the revision of the play.

175-177. God's bread! etc. The text from the earlier editions is clearly messed up here. The version in the text is Malone's and probably comes close to what S. wrote during the play's revision.

181. Stuff'd, etc. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 56: "stuffed with all honourable virtues," etc. For parts, cf. iii. 3. 2 above.

181. Stuff'd, etc. See Much Ado, i. 1. 56: "filled with all noble qualities," etc. For parts, see iii. 3. 2 above.

184. Mammet. Puppet, doll. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 3. 95: "To play with mammets." The word is also written mawmet, and is a contraction of Mahomet. In her fortune's tender = when good fortune presents itself. Cf. iii. 4. 12 above.

184. Mammet. Puppet, doll. See 1 Hen. IV. ii. 3. 95: "To play with dolls." The word is also spelled mawmet, and is a shortened form of Mahomet. In her fortune's tender = when good luck shows up. See iii. 4. 12 above.

189. Use. See on ii. chor. 10 above.

189. Use. Refer to ii. chor. 10 above.

190. Lay hand on heart, advise. Consider it seriously. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

190. Lay hand on heart, advise. Think about it carefully. See Brooke's poem:—

"Aduise thee well, and say that thou art warned now,
And thinke not that I speake in sporte, or mynd to breake my vowe."

198. Sweet my mother. Cf. iii. 2. 98: "Ah, poor my lord," etc.

198. Sweet my mother. Cf. iii. 2. 98: "Ah, poor my lord," etc.

209. Should practise stratagems, etc. Should, as it were, entrap me into so painful and perplexing a situation. Schmidt makes stratagem sometimes = "anything amazing and appalling," and cites this passage as an instance.

209. Should practise stratagems, etc. Should, in a way, trap me in such a painful and confusing situation. Schmidt sometimes defines stratagem as "anything surprising and shocking," and cites this passage as an example.

212. Faith, here 'tis, etc. S. here follows Brooke:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. S. here follows Brooke:—

"She setteth foorth at large the fathers furious rage,
And eke she prayseth much to her the second mariage;
And County Paris now she praiseth ten times more,
By wrong, then she her selfe by right had Romeus praysde before," etc.

Mrs. Jameson remarks: "The old woman, true to her vocation, and fearful lest her share in these events should be discovered, counsels her to forget Romeo and marry Paris; and the moment which unveils to Juliet the weakness and baseness of her confidante is the moment which reveals her to herself. She does not break into upbraidings; it is no moment for anger; it is incredulous amazement, succeeded by the extremity of scorn and abhorrence, which takes possession of her mind. She assumes at once[Pg 245] and asserts all her own superiority, and rises to majesty in the strength of her despair."

Mrs. Jameson says: "The old woman, sticking to her role and worried that her involvement in these events might be uncovered, advises her to forget Romeo and marry Paris. The moment when Juliet sees the weakness and dishonesty of her confidante is the moment that reveals her true self. She doesn’t start shouting; it’s not a moment for anger. It’s a mix of disbelief and utter scorn that takes over her thoughts. She immediately embraces and expresses her own superiority and rises with dignity through her despair."

220. Green. We have green eyes again in M.N.D. v. 1. 342: "His eyes were green as leeks." Cf. The Two Noble Kinsmen, v. 1: "With that rare green eye." Clarke remarks: "The brilliant touch of green visible in very light hazel eyes, and which gives wonderful clearness and animation to their look, has been admiringly denoted by various poets from time immemorial." In a sonnet by Drummond of Hawthornden, the gods are represented as debating of what colour a beauty's eyes shall be. Mars and Apollo vote for black:—

220. Green. We see green eyes again in M.N.D. v. 1. 342: "His eyes were as green as leeks." Compare with The Two Noble Kinsmen, v. 1: "With that rare green eye." Clarke notes: "The brilliant touch of green that's visible in very light hazel eyes gives them a wonderful clarity and liveliness, a detail that has been appreciated by various poets for ages." In a sonnet by Drummond of Hawthornden, the gods are depicted as discussing what color a beauty's eyes should be. Mars and Apollo choose black:—

"Chaste Phœbe spake for purest azure dyes,
But Jove and Venus green about the light,
To frame thought best, as bringing most delight,
That to pin'd hearts hope might for aye arise."

Cf. Longfellow, The Spanish Student: "Ay, soft emerald eyes;" and again:—

Cf. Longfellow, The Spanish Student: "Oh, gentle emerald eyes;" and again:—

"in her gentle eyes"
Just that soft shade of green we sometimes see
In evening skies."

In a note on the former passage, the poet says: "The Spaniards, with good reason, consider this colour of the eyes as beautiful, and celebrate it in song.... Dante speaks of Beatrice's eyes as emeralds (Purgat. xxxi. 116). Lami says in his Annotazioni, 'Erano i suoi occhi d' un turchino verdiccio, simile a quel del mare.'"

In a note on the earlier passage, the poet says: "The Spaniards, with good reason, believe this eye color is beautiful and celebrate it in song.... Dante refers to Beatrice's eyes as emeralds (Purgat. xxxi. 116). Lami notes in his Annotazioni, 'Her eyes were a bluish-green, similar to that of the sea.'"

221. Beshrew. See on ii. 5. 52 above.

221. Beshrew. Refer to ii. 5. 52 above.

225. Here. Not referring to Verona, but = "in this world" (Johnson).

225. Here. Not talking about Verona, but = "in this world" (Johnson).

233. Ancient damnation. The abstract for the concrete, explained by what follows. Steevens cites The Malcontent, 1604: "out, you ancient damnation!"

233. Ancient damnation. The summary for the details, clarified by what comes next. Steevens references The Malcontent, 1604: "Get lost, you old curse!"

234. Is it more sin, etc. Mrs. Jameson remarks: "It appears to me an admirable touch of nature, considering the master-passion which, at this moment, rules in Juliet's soul, that she is as much shocked by the nurse's dispraise of her lover as by her wicked, time-serving advice. This scene is the crisis in the character; and henceforth we see Juliet assume a new aspect. The fond, impatient, timid girl puts on the wife and the woman: she has learned heroism from suffering, and subtlety from oppression. It is idle to criticise her dissembling submission to her father and mother; a higher duty has taken place of that which she owed to them; a more sacred tie has severed all others. Her parents are pictured as they are, that no feeling for them may interfere in the slightest degree with our sympathy for the lovers. In the mind of Juliet there is no struggle between her filial and her conjugal duties, and there ought to be none."

234. Is it more sin, etc. Mrs. Jameson observes: "I think it's a brilliant touch of nature, given the strong emotions that drive Juliet right now, that she is just as shocked by the nurse's criticism of her lover as she is by her wicked, self-serving advice. This scene marks a turning point in her character; from now on, we see Juliet take on a different role. The loving, impatient, timid girl transforms into a wife and a woman: she has gained courage from her pain, and cleverness from her struggles. It's pointless to criticize her feigned obedience to her parents; a higher obligation has replaced the one she had to them; a more sacred bond has overshadowed all others. Her parents are portrayed as they are, so that our feelings for them do not interfere in any way with our sympathy for the lovers. In Juliet's mind, there is no conflict between her duties as a daughter and as a wife, and there shouldn't be."

236. Compare. See on ii. 5. 43 above.

236. Compare. Refer to ii. 5. 43 above.


ACT IV

Scene 1.

3. And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. Paris here seems to say the opposite of what he evidently means, and various attempts have been made to explain away the inconsistency. It appears to be one of the peculiar cases of "double negative" discussed by Schmidt in his Appendix, p. 1420, though he does not give it there. "The idea of negation was so strong in the poet's mind that he expressed it in more than one place, unmindful of his canon that 'your four negatives make your two affirmatives.'" Cf. Lear, ii. 4. 142:—

3. And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. Paris here seems to express the opposite of what he clearly means, and various attempts have been made to explain the inconsistency. It seems to be one of the unique cases of "double negative" discussed by Schmidt in his Appendix, p. 1420, even though he doesn’t include it there. "The idea of negation was so strong in the poet’s mind that he expressed it in more than one place, ignoring his rule that 'your four negatives make your two affirmatives.'" Cf. Lear, ii. 4. 142:—

"You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant ["slack" in quartos] her duty;"

that is, you are more inclined to depreciate her than she to scant her duty.

That is, you are more likely to criticize her than she is to neglect her responsibilities.

5. Uneven. Indirect. Cf. the use of even in Ham. ii. 2. 298: "be even and direct with me," etc. Sometimes the word is = perplexing, embarrassing; as in 1 Hen. IV. i. 1. 50: "uneven and unwelcome news," etc.

5. Uneven. Indirect. See the use of even in Ham. ii. 2. 298: "be straightforward and honest with me," etc. Sometimes the word means = confusing, awkward; as in 1 Hen. IV. i. 1. 50: "unexpected and unwelcome news," etc.

11. Marriage. A trisyllable here; as in M. of V. ii. 9. 13, etc. So also in the quotation from Brooke in note on iii. 5. 212 above.

11. Marriage. A three-syllable word here; similar to M. of V. ii. 9. 13, etc. This is also reflected in the quote from Brooke in the note on iii. 5. 212 above.

13. Alone. When alone; opposed to society below.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ When alone; against society below.

16. Slow'd. The only instance of the verb in S.

16. Slow'd. The only occurrence of the verb in S.

18-36. This part of the scene evidently came from the first draft of the play.

18-36. This part of the scene clearly originated from the initial draft of the play.

20. That may be must be. That may be of yours must be.

That might belong to you must be.

29. Abus'd. Marred, disfigured.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Damaged, deformed.

31. Spite. Cf. i. 5. 64 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See i. 5. 64 above.

38. Evening mass. Ritson and others say that Juliet means vespers, as there is no such thing as evening mass; and Staunton expresses surprise that S. has fallen into this error, since he elsewhere shows a familiarity with the usages of the Roman Catholic Church. It is the critics who are in error, not S. Walafrid Strabo (De Rebus Eccles. xxiii.) says that, while the time for mass is regularly before noon, it is sometimes celebrated in the evening ("aliquando ad vesperam"). Amalarius, Bishop of Trèves (De Eccles. Off. iv. 40), specifies Lent as the season for this hour. The Generales Rubricæ allow this at other times in the year. In Winkles's French Cathedrals, we are told that, on the occasion of the marriage of Henrietta of France, daughter of Henry IV., with the Duke of Chevreuse, as proxy for Charles I. of England, celebrated in Notre Dame at Paris, May 11, 1625, "mass was celebrated in the evening." See Notes and Queries for April 29 and June 3, 1876; also M'Clintock and Strong's Biblical Cyclopædia, under Mass.

38. Evening mass. Ritson and others claim that Juliet is referring to vespers, since there isn’t an evening mass; and Staunton is surprised that S. has made this mistake, especially since he usually understands the practices of the Roman Catholic Church. It’s the critics who are mistaken, not S. Walafrid Strabo (De Rebus Eccles. xxiii.) states that, while mass is typically held before noon, it can occasionally be celebrated in the evening ("aliquando ad vesperam"). Amalarius, Bishop of Trèves (De Eccles. Off. iv. 40), mentions Lent as a time when this occurs. The Generales Rubricæ permit this at other times of the year as well. In Winkles's French Cathedrals, it is noted that during the marriage of Henrietta of France, daughter of Henry IV., to the Duke of Chevreuse, acting as a proxy for Charles I. of England, which took place at Notre Dame in Paris on May 11, 1625, "mass was celebrated in the evening." See Notes and Queries for April 29 and June 3, 1876; also M'Clintock and Strong's Biblical Cyclopædia, under Mass.

40. We must entreat, etc. We must beg you to leave us to ourselves. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 71:—

40. We must entreat, etc. We really need you to let us be. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 71:—

"Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with them."

41. God shield. God forbid. Cf. A.W. i. 3. 74: "God shield you mean it not." So "Heaven shield," in M. for M. iii. 1. 141, etc. Devotion is here a quadrisyllable.

41. God shield. God forbid. Compare A.W. i. 3. 74: "God protect you that you don't mean it." Similarly, "Heaven protect," in M. for M. iii. 1. 141, etc. Devotion is a four-syllable word here.

45. Past cure, etc. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 28: "past cure is still past care."

45. Past cure, etc. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 28: "once it can't be fixed, it doesn’t matter anymore."

48. Prorogue. See on ii. 2. 78 above.

48. Prorogue. See on ii. 2. 78 above.

54. This knife. It was the custom of the time in Italy as in Spain for ladies to wear daggers at their girdles.

54. This knife. It was customary during that time in Italy, just like in Spain, for women to carry daggers at their belts.

57. The label. The seal appended by a slip to a deed, according to the custom of the day. In Rich. II. v. 2. 56, the Duke of York discovers, by the depending seal, a covenant which his son has made with the conspirators. In Cymb. v. 5. 430, label is used for the deed itself.

57. The label. The seal attached by a slip to a document, as was customary at the time. In Rich. II. v. 2. 56, the Duke of York discovers, through the seal hanging down, a promise that his son made with the conspirators. In Cymb. v. 5. 430, label refers to the document itself.

62. Extremes. Extremities, sufferings. Cf. R. of L. 969:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Struggles, suffering. Cf. R. of L. 969:—

"Devise extremes beyond extremity,
To make him curse this cursed crimeful night."

The meaning of the passage is, "This knife shall decide the struggle between me and my distresses" (Johnson).

The meaning of the passage is, "This knife will determine the battle between me and my troubles" (Johnson).

64. Commission. Warrant, authority. Cf. A.W. ii. 3. 279: "you are more saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry."

64. Commission. Warrant, authority. Cf. A.W. ii. 3. 279: "you are more disrespectful to lords and honorable people than your lineage and character allows you to be."

66. Be not so long to speak. So slow to speak. Clarke remarks here: "The constraint, with sparing speech, visible in Juliet when with her parents, as contrasted with her free outpouring flow of words when she is with her lover, her father confessor, or her nurse—when, in short, she is her natural self and at perfect ease—is true to characteristic delineation. The young girl, the very young girl, the girl brought up as Juliet has been reared, the youthful Southern maiden, lives and breathes in every line by which S. has set her before us."

66. Be not so long to speak. So slow to speak. Clarke points out here: "The restraint, along with her limited speech, is clear in Juliet when she’s with her parents, compared to her open and free-flowing conversation when she’s with her lover, her confidant, or her nurse—basically, when she’s being her true self and is completely comfortable—this accurately reflects her character. The young girl, the very young girl, the girl raised like Juliet has been, the youthful Southern maiden, is alive in every line that S. has written about her."

78. Yonder. Ulrici "cannot perceive why Juliet must designate a particular, actual tower, since all that follows is purely imaginary;" but to me the reference to a tower in sight seems both[Pg 249] forcible and natural, and the transition to imaginary ordeals is equally natural.

78. Yonder. Ulrici "can't see why Juliet has to point out a specific, real tower, since everything that comes next is completely imagined;" but to me, mentioning a tower that can be seen feels both[Pg 249] powerful and natural, and the shift to imaginary challenges is just as natural.

83. Reeky. Reeking with foul vapours, or simply = foul, as if soiled with smoke or reek. Cf. reechy (another form of the same word) in Much Ado, iii. 3. 143, Ham. iii. 4. 184, etc.

83. Reeky. Stinking with bad smells, or just plain = disgusting, as if contaminated with smoke or stench. See reeky (another version of the same word) in Much Ado, iii. 3. 143, Ham. iii. 4. 184, etc.

93. Take thou this vial, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"Receiue this vyoll small and keepe it as thine eye;
And on the mariage day, before the sunne doe cleare the skye,
Fill it with water full vp to the very brim,
Then drinke it of, and thou shalt feele throughout eche vayne and lim
A pleasant slumber slide, and quite dispred at length
On all thy partes, from euery part reue all thy kindly strength;
Withouten mouing thus thy ydle parts shall rest,
No pulse shall goe, ne hart once beate within thy hollow brest,
But thou shalt lye as she that dyeth in a traunce:
Thy kinsmen and thy trusty frendes shall wayle the sodain chaunce;
The corps then will they bring to graue in this church yarde,
Where thy forefathers long agoe a costly tombe preparde,
Both for them selfe and eke for those that should come after,[7]
Both deepe it is, and long and large, where thou shalt rest, my daughter,
Till I to Mantua sende for Romeus, thy knight;
Out of the tombe both he and I will take thee forth that night."

97. Surcease. Cf. R. of L. 1766: "If they surcease to be that should survive;" and Cor. iii. 2. 121: "Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth." For the noun, see Macb. i. 7. 74.

97. Surcease. Cf. R. of L. 1766: "If they stop being that which should continue to exist;" and Cor. iii. 2. 121: "So I don’t stop honoring my own truth." For the noun, see Macb. i. 7. 74.

100. Paly. Cf. Hen. V. iv. chor. 8: "paly flames;" and 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 141: "his paly lips."

100. Paly. Cf. Hen. V. iv. chor. 8: "pale flames;" and 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 141: "his pale lips."

105. Two and forty hours. It is difficult to make this period agree with the time of the events that follow. Maginn would read "two and fifty hours;" and "two and thirty" has been suggested,[Pg 250] which is more in accordance with the dates given in the play. In iv. 1. 90 the Friar says to Juliet:—

105. Two and forty hours. It's tricky to align this time period with the events that come after. Maginn suggested "two and fifty hours," while "two and thirty" has also been proposed,[Pg 250] which fits better with the dates mentioned in the play. In iv. 1. 90, the Friar tells Juliet:—

"Wednesday is to-morrow:
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone," etc.

This agrees with the preceding dates. The conversation in iii. 4 is late on Monday evening (cf. lines 5 and 18), and Lady Capulet's talk with Juliet about marrying Paris (iii. 5. 67 fol.) is early the next (Tuesday) morning. The visit to the Friar is evidently on the same day; and the next scene (iv. 2) is in the evening of that day. Juliet comes home and tells her father that she has been to the Friar's, and is ready to marry Paris. The old man at once decides to have the wedding "to-morrow morning" (that is, Wednesday) instead of Thursday. Lady Capulet objects, but finally yields to her husband's persistency; and so Juliet goes to her chamber, and drinks the potion on Tuesday evening, or twenty-four hours earlier than the Friar had directed. He of course is notified of the change in the time for the wedding, as he is to perform the ceremony, and will understand that Juliet has anticipated the time of taking the potion, and that she will wake on Thursday morning instead of Friday. If so, instead of extending the "two and forty hours," as Maginn does, we need rather to shorten the interval. We may suppose the time of v. 3 to be as early as three o'clock in the morning. It is summer, and before daylight. Paris and Romeo come with torches, and the Friar with a lantern. Romeo tells his servant to deliver the letter to his father "early in the morning." The night watchmen are still on duty. Since we can hardly send Juliet to bed before nine in the evening on Tuesday, thirty hours is the most that can be allowed for the interval, unless we add another day and accept the fifty-two of Maginn. But this does not seem required by anything in act v.—not even by the "two days buried" of v. 3. 176, for Thursday would be the second day that she had lain in the tomb. The marriage was to be early on Wednesday morning, and the funeral took its place. Balthasar "presently[Pg 251] took post" (v. 1. 21) to tell the news to Romeo at Mantua, less than twenty-five miles distant. He arrives before evening (cf. v. 1. 4: "all this day," which indicates the time), and Romeo at once says, "I will hence to-night." He has ample time to make his preparations and to reach Verona before two o'clock the next morning. He has been at the tomb only half an hour or so (v. 3. 130) before the Friar comes. It must have been near midnight (see v. 2. 23) when Friar John returned to Laurence's cell; so that, even if he had not been despatched to Mantua until that morning, he would have had time to go and return, but for his unexpected detention. I see no difficulty, therefore, in assuming that the drama closes on Thursday morning; the difficulty would be in prolonging the time to the next morning without making the action drag.

This matches the earlier dates. The conversation in iii. 4 takes place late on Monday night (see lines 5 and 18), and Lady Capulet's discussion with Juliet about marrying Paris (iii. 5. 67 and following) happens early the next morning (Tuesday). The visit to the Friar clearly happens on the same day, and the following scene (iv. 2) is in the evening of that day. Juliet returns home and tells her father that she visited the Friar and is ready to marry Paris. The old man immediately decides to have the wedding "tomorrow morning" (that is, Wednesday) instead of Thursday. Lady Capulet objects but eventually gives in to her husband's insistence; as a result, Juliet goes to her room and drinks the potion on Tuesday evening, which is twenty-four hours earlier than the Friar had instructed. Of course, he is informed about the change in the wedding time since he will conduct the ceremony, and he will realize that Juliet has taken the potion earlier than planned, so she will wake on Thursday morning instead of Friday. If that’s the case, instead of extending the "two and forty hours," as Maginn suggests, we actually need to shorten the interval. We might infer that the time in v. 3 is as early as three o'clock in the morning. It's summer, and it's before dawn. Paris and Romeo arrive with torches, and the Friar has a lantern. Romeo tells his servant to deliver the letter to his father "early in the morning." The night watchmen are still on duty. Since we can hardly send Juliet to bed before nine on Tuesday night, thirty hours is the maximum we can allow for the interval unless we add another day and accept Maginn's fifty-two hours. But this doesn't seem necessary given anything in act v.—not even the "two days buried" in v. 3. 176, because Thursday would mark the second day she's been in the tomb. The wedding was supposed to be early Wednesday morning, and the funeral replaces it. Balthasar "immediately took post" (v. 1. 21) to inform Romeo in Mantua, which is less than twenty-five miles away. He arrives before evening (see v. 1. 4: "all this day," which indicates the time), and Romeo immediately says, "I will head out tonight." He has plenty of time to make his preparations and reach Verona before two o'clock the next morning. He has only been at the tomb for about half an hour (v. 3. 130) before the Friar arrives. It must have been close to midnight (see v. 2. 23) when Friar John returned to Laurence's cell; therefore, even if he hadn't been sent to Mantua until that morning, he would have had time to go and return, aside from his unexpected delay. I see no issue, therefore, in concluding that the drama wraps up on Thursday morning; the challenge would be in extending the timeframe to the next morning without dragging the action.

110. In thy best robes, etc. The Italian custom here alluded to, of carrying the dead body to the grave richly dressed and with the face uncovered (which is not mentioned by Paynter), S. found particularly described in Romeus and Juliet:—

110. In thy best robes, etc. The Italian tradition being referenced here, of taking the deceased to the grave dressed elegantly and with the face uncovered (which Paynter doesn’t mention), S. found particularly detailed in Romeus and Juliet:—

"Now throughout Italy this common vse they haue,
That all the best of euery stocke are earthed in one graue;
*          *          *          *          *          *          *
An other vse there is, that whosoeuer dyes,
Borne to their church with open face vpon the beere he lyes,
In wonted weede attyrde, not wrapt in winding sheete."

Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 164: "They bore him barefac'd on the bier." Knight remarks that thus the maids and matrons of Italy are still carried to the tomb; and he quotes Rogers, Italy:—

Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 164: "They carried him openly on the coffin." Knight notes that this is how the girls and women of Italy are still taken to their graves; and he cites Rogers, Italy:—

"And lying on her funeral couch,
Like one asleep, her eyelids closed, her hands
Folded together on her modest breast
As 'twere her nightly posture, through the crowd
She came at last—and richly, gaily clad,
As for a birthday feast."

114. Drift. Scheme. Cf. ii. 3. 55 above.

114. Drift. Plan. See ii. 3. 55 above.

119. Inconstant toy. Fickle freak or caprice. Cf. Ham. i. 3. 5: "a fashion and a toy in blood;" Id. 1. 4. 75: "toys of desperation;" Oth. iii. 4. 156: "no jealous toy," etc. Inconstant toy and womanish fear are both from Brooke's poem:—

119. Inconstant toy. Unpredictable whim or fancy. See Ham. i. 3. 5: "a trend and a plaything in passion;" Id. 1. 4. 75: "playthings of desperation;" Oth. iii. 4. 156: "no jealous plaything," etc. Unreliable plaything and feminine fear both come from Brooke's poem:—

"Cast of from thee at once the weede of womannish dread,
With manly courage arme thy selfe from heele vnto the head;
*          *          *          *          *          *          *
God graunt he so confirme in thee thy present will,
That no inconstant toy thee let [hinder] thy promesse to fulfill."

121. Give me, give me! Cf. Macb. i. 3. 5: "'Give me,' quoth I."

121. Give me, give me! Cf. Macb. i. 3. 5: "'Give me,' I said."


Scene 2.—

2. Twenty cunning cooks. Ritson says: "Twenty cooks for half a dozen guests! Either Capulet has altered his mind strangely, or S. forgot what he had just made him tell us" (iii. 4. 27). But, as Knight remarks, "Capulet is evidently a man of ostentation; but his ostentation, as is most generally the case, is covered with a thin veil of indifference." Cf. i. 5. 124: "We have a trifling foolish banquet towards."

2. Twenty cunning cooks. Ritson says: "Twenty cooks for six guests! Either Capulet has changed his mind in a strange way, or S. forgot what he just made him tell us" (iii. 4. 27). But, as Knight points out, "Capulet is clearly a man who likes to show off; however, like most people who are ostentatious, there's a thin layer of indifference covering it." See i. 5. 124: "We have a rather silly banquet planned."

According to an entry in the books of the Stationers' Company for 1560, the preacher was paid six shillings and twopence for his labour; the minstrel, twelve shillings; and the cook, fifteen shillings. But, as Ben Jonson tells us, a master cook is—

According to a record in the books of the Stationers' Company from 1560, the preacher was paid six shillings and two pence for his work; the minstrel received twelve shillings; and the cook earned fifteen shillings. But, as Ben Jonson tells us, a master cook is—

"a man among men"
For a professor; he designs, he draws,
He paints, he carves, he builds, he fortifies,
Makes citadels of curious fowl and fish.
*          *          *          *          *          *
He is an architect, an engineer,
A soldier, a physician, a philosopher,
A general mathematician."

6. 'Tis an ill cook, etc. Cf. Puttenham, Arte of English Poesie, 1589:—

6. 'Tis an ill cook, etc. See Puttenham, Arte of English Poesie, 1589:—

"As the old cocke crowes so doeth the chick:
A bad cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick."

14. Harlotry. S. uses the noun only in this concrete sense: literally in Oth. iv. 2. 239; and in a loose contemptuous way, as here (= silly wench), in 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 198: "a peevish, self-willed harlotry, one that no persuasion can do good upon." For peevish = foolish, childish, cf. A.Y.L. iii. 5. 110, M.W. i. 4. 14, etc.

14. Harlotry. S. uses the noun only in this specific sense: literally in Oth. iv. 2. 239; and in a loosely disrespectful way, as here (= silly girl), in 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 198: "a whiny, stubborn flirt, one that no amount of persuasion can change." For whiny = foolish, childish, cf. A.Y.L. iii. 5. 110, M.W. i. 4. 14, etc.

17. Learn'd me. Taught myself, learned; not elsewhere used reflexively by S. Cf. iii. 2. 12 above.

17. Learn'd me. I taught myself, learned; not used reflexively elsewhere by S. See iii. 2. 12 above.

18. In disobedient opposition. This line has but two regular accents, the others being metrical. See p. 159 above. Opposition has five syllables.

18. In disobedient opposition. This line has only two regular beats, while the others follow a different pattern. See p. 159 above. Opposition has five syllables.

26. Becomed. Becoming. Cf. "lean-look'd" = lean-looking in Rich. II. ii. 4. 11, "well-spoken" in Rich. III. i. 3. 348, etc. We still say "well-behaved."

26. Becomed. Becoming. See "lean-looking" in Rich. II. ii. 4. 11, "well-spoken" in Rich. III. i. 3. 348, etc. We still say "well-behaved."

33. Closet. Chamber; as in Ham. ii. 1. 77, iii. 2. 344, iii. 3. 27, etc. Cf. Matthew, vi. 6.

33. Closet. Chamber; as in Ham. ii. 1. 77, iii. 2. 344, iii. 3. 27, etc. Cf. Matthew, vi. 6.

34. Sort. Select. Cf. iii. 5. 108 above.

34. Sort. Choose. See iii. 5. 108 above.

38. Short in our provision. Very feminine and housewifely! Cf. Lear, ii. 4. 208:—

38. Short in our provision. So feminine and domestic! Cf. Lear, ii. 4. 208:—

"I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment."

41. Deck up her. Such transpositions are not rare in S. The 1st quarto has "prepare up him" in 45 just below.

41. Deck up her. Such changes aren't uncommon in S. The 1st quarto has "prepare up him" in 45 just below.


Scene 3.

5. Cross. Perverse. Cf. Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 214:—

Wrong. See Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 214:—

"what's the deal, devil?"
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the king?"

8. Behoveful. Befitting; used by S. nowhere else.

8. Behoveful. Appropriate; not used by S. anywhere else.

15. Thrills. The ellipsis is somewhat peculiar from the fact[Pg 254] that the relative is expressed in the next line. We should expect "thrilling" or "And almost."

15. Thrills. The ellipsis is a bit odd because the relative is mentioned in the next line. We would expect "exciting" or "And almost."

23. Lie thou there. See on iv. 1. 54 above. Moreover, as Steevens notes, knives, or daggers, were part of the accoutrements of a bride. Cf. Dekker, Match me in London: "See at my girdle hang my wedding knives!" and King Edward III., 1599: "Here by my side do hang my wedding knives," etc. Dyce remarks that the omission of the word knife "is peculiarly awkward, as Juliet has been addressing the vial just before;" but S. wrote for the stage, where the action would make the reference perfectly clear.

23. Lie thou there. See on iv. 1. 54 above. Also, as Steevens points out, knives, or daggers, were part of a bride's accessories. See Dekker, Match me in London: "Look at my wedding knives hanging from my belt!" and King Edward III., 1599: "Here, by my side, my wedding knives hang," etc. Dyce notes that leaving out the word knife "is particularly awkward, since Juliet was just speaking to the vial;" but S. wrote for the stage, where the action would make the reference completely clear.

27. Because he married me, etc. A "female" line with two extra syllables; like v. 3. 256 below. See p. 158 above.

27. Because he married me, etc. A "female" line with two additional syllables; similar to v. 3. 256 below. See p. 158 above.

29. Tried. Proved; as in J.C. iv. 1. 28, Ham. i. 3. 62, etc.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Proved; as in J.C. 4.1.28, Ham. 1.3.62, etc.

34. Healthsome. Wholesome; used by S. only here.

34. Healthsome. Healthy; used by S. only here.

36. Like. Likely; as often.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Probably; as usual.

39. As in a vault, etc. As is here = to wit, namely. Cf. Ham. i. 4. 25, etc.

39. As in a vault, etc. As is here = that is, in other words. Cf. Ham. i. 4. 25, etc.

Steevens thinks that this passage may have been suggested to S. by the ancient charnel-house (now removed) adjoining the chancel of Stratford church; but that was merely a receptacle for bones from old graves and disused tombs, while the reference here is to a family tomb still in regular use, where the body of Tybalt has just been deposited, and as Juliet knows that she also will be when supposed to be dead. S. was of course familiar with such tombs or vaults.

Steevens believes that this passage might have been inspired by the old charnel house (which has since been removed) next to the chancel of Stratford church; however, that was just a place for bones from old graves and unused tombs. The reference here, though, is to a family tomb still actively used, where Tybalt's body has just been laid to rest, and Juliet is aware that she will be there too when she is thought to be dead. S. was certainly familiar with such tombs or vaults.

Receptacle. For the accent on the first syllable, cf. T.A. i. 1. 92: "O sacred receptacle of my joys!" So also in Per. iv. 6. 186; the only other instance of the word in S.

Receptacle. For the emphasis on the first syllable, see T.A. i. 1. 92: "O cherished container of my joys!" Also in Per. iv. 6. 186; the only other instance of the word in S.

42. Green. Fresh, recent; as in Ham. i. 2. 2, etc.

42. Green. New, current; as in Ham. i. 2. 2, etc.

43. Festering. Corrupting; as in Hen. V. iv. 3. 88 and Sonn. 94. 14.

43. Festering. Corrupting; similar to Hen. V. iv. 3. 88 and Sonn. 94. 14.

47. Mandrakes'. The plant Atropa mandragora (cf. Oth. iii. 3. 130 and A. and C. i. 5. 4, where it is called "mandragora"), the root of which was thought to resemble the human figure, and when[Pg 255] torn from the earth to utter shrieks which drove those mad who heard them. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 310: "Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groans," etc. Coles, in his Art of Simpling, says that witches "take likewise the roots of mandrake, ... and make thereof an ugly image, by which they represent the person on whom they intend to exercise their witchcraft." The plant was of repute also in medicine, as a soporific (see the passages noted above in which it is called mandragora) and for sundry other purposes. Sir Thomas More observes that "Mandragora is an herbe, as phisycions saye, that causeth folke to slepe, and therein to have many mad fantastical dreames." How the root could be got without danger is explained by Bullein, in his Bulwark of Defence against Sicknesse, 1575: "Therefore they did tye some dogge or other lyving beast unto the roote thereof wythe a corde, and digged the earth in compasse round about, and in the meane tyme stopped their own eares for feare of the terreble shriek and cry of this Mandrack. In whych cry it doth not only dye it selfe, but the feare thereof kylleth the dogge or beast which pulleth it out of the earth."

47. Mandrakes'. The plant Atropa mandragora (see Oth. iii. 3. 130 and A. and C. i. 5. 4, where it's called "mandragora"), was believed to have a root that resembled a human figure and would let out screams when pulled from the ground, driving anyone who heard them insane. Compare with 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 310: "Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groans," etc. Coles, in his Art of Simpling, mentions that witches "also take the roots of mandrake, ... and create an ugly figure with it to represent the person they plan to curse." The plant was also known for its medicinal properties, acting as a sleep aid (see the previous references where it's called mandragora) and for various other uses. Sir Thomas More notes that "Mandragora is an herb, as physicians say, that causes people to sleep and to have many wild and crazy dreams." How to safely obtain the root is explained by Bullein in his Bulwark of Defence against Sicknesse, 1575: "They would tie a dog or another living animal to the root with a cord, dig around the earth, and in the meantime, they would stop their ears out of fear of the terrible scream and cry of this Mandrake. In that cry, not only does it die itself, but the fear of it kills the dog or animal that pulls it out of the ground."

49. Distraught. Distracted. S. uses the word again in Rich. III. iii. 5. 4: "distraught and mad with terror." Elsewhere he has distracted (as in Temp. $1.$2. 12, Macb. ii. 3. 110, etc.) or distract (as in J.C. iv. 3. 155, Ham. iv. 5. 2, etc.). Spenser has distraught often; as in F.Q. iv. 3. 48: "Thus whilest their minds were doubtfully distraught;" Id. iv. 7. 31: "His greedy throte, therewith in two distraught" (where it is = drawn apart, its original sense), etc.

49. Distraught. Distracted. S. uses the word again in Rich. III. iii. 5. 4: "distraught and mad with terror." Elsewhere he has distracted (as in Temp. $1.$2. 12, Macb. ii. 3. 110, etc.) or distract (as in J.C. iv. 3. 155, Ham. iv. 5. 2, etc.). Spenser has distraught often; as in F.Q. iv. 3. 48: "Thus while their minds were doubtfully distraught;" Id. iv. 7. 31: "His greedy throat, therewith in two distraught" (where it means = drawn apart, its original sense), etc.

58. Romeo, I come, etc. The 1st quarto has here the stage-direction, "She fals vpon her bed within the Curtaines." The ancient stage was divided by curtains, called traverses, which were a substitute for sliding scenes. Juliet's bed was behind these curtains, and when they were closed in front of the bed the stage was supposed to represent the hall in Capulet's house for the next scene. When he summons the Nurse to call forth Juliet, she opens the[Pg 256] curtains and the scene again becomes Juliet's chamber, where she is discovered apparently dead. After the lamentations over her, the 1st quarto gives the direction, "They all but the Nurse goe foorth, casting Rosemary on her and shutting the Curtens;" and then follows the scene with Peter and the Musicians. The stage had no movable painted scenery.

58. Romeo, I come, etc. The first quarto has the stage direction, "She falls on her bed behind the curtains." The old stage was divided by curtains, called traverses, which served as a replacement for sliding scenery. Juliet's bed was behind these curtains, and when they were closed in front of the bed, the stage was meant to represent the hall in Capulet's house for the next scene. When he calls for the Nurse to bring Juliet, she opens the[Pg 256] curtains and the scene returns to Juliet's chamber, where she appears to be dead. After the mourning over her, the first quarto gives the direction, "They all but the Nurse go forth, scattering rosemary on her and closing the curtains;" and following that is the scene with Peter and the Musicians. The stage didn't have movable painted scenery.


Scene 4.

2. Pastry. That is, the room where pastry was made. Cf. pantry (Fr. paneterie, from pain), the place where bread is kept, etc. Staunton quotes A Floorish upon Fancie, 1582:—

2. Pastry. In other words, the room where pastries were made. See pantry (French paneterie, from pain), the place where bread is stored, etc. Staunton cites A Floorish upon Fancie, 1582:—

"Now having seene all this, then shall you see hard by
The pastrie, mealehouse, and the roome whereas the coales do ly."

S. uses pastry only here. For the double meaning of the word, cf. spicery (Fr. épicerie), which was used both for the material (Rich. III. iv. 4. 424) and the place where it was kept.

S. uses pastry only here. For the double meaning of the word, see spicery (Fr. épicerie), which was used for both the material (Rich. III. iv. 4. 424) and the location where it was stored.

4. Curfew-bell. As the curfew was rung in the evening, the only way to explain this is to assume that it means "the bell ordinarily used for that purpose" (Schmidt). In the three other instances in which S. has the word (Temp. v. 1. 40, M. for M. iv. 2. 78, Lear, iii. 4. 121), it is used correctly.

4. Curfew-bell. When the curfew was sounded in the evening, the only way to explain this is to think that it refers to "the bell typically used for that purpose" (Schmidt). In the three other instances where S. uses the term (Temp. v. 1. 40, M. for M. iv. 2. 78, Lear, iii. 4. 121), it is used correctly.

5. Bak'd meats. Pastry. S. uses the term only here and in Ham. i. 2. 180. Nares says that it formerly meant "a meat pie, or perhaps any other pie." He cites Cotgrave, who defines pastisserie as "all kind of pies or bak'd meats;" and Sherwood (English supplement to Cotgrave), who renders "bak'd meats" by pastisserie. Cf. The White Devil:

5. Bak'd meats. Pastry. S. uses this term only here and in Ham. i. 2. 180. Nares notes that it used to mean "a meat pie, or maybe any other pie." He references Cotgrave, who defines pastisserie as "all kinds of pies or baked meats;" and Sherwood (English supplement to Cotgrave), who translates "baked meats" as pastisserie. Cf. The White Devil:

"You speak as if a man
Should know what fowl is coffin'd in a bak'd meat
Afore it is cut up;"

that is, what fowl is under the crust of the pie. Good Angelica perhaps means Lady Capulet, not the Nurse; and, as Dowden suggests, Spare not the cost seems more appropriate to the former.[Pg 257] It may, however, be the Nurse, who here seems to be treated as a kitchen servant—perhaps to avoid the introduction of another character.

that is, what type of bird is under the pie crust. Good Angelica probably refers to Lady Capulet, not the Nurse; and, as Dowden suggests, Spare not the cost seems more fitting for her. [Pg 257] However, it might also be the Nurse, who appears to be treated like a kitchen servant here—maybe to keep from adding another character.

6. Go, you cot-quean, etc. Several editors give this speech to Lady Capulet; on the ground that the Nurse is not present, having been sent for spices. It has also been suggested that a servant would not venture to be so impudent to her master; but, as we have seen, the Nurse is an old and petted servant who is allowed a good deal of liberty. For the same reason she may not have gone for the spices at once, but may have lingered, gossip-like, to hear what Capulet had to say. A cot-quean is a man who meddles with female affairs; used by S. only here.

6. Go, you cot-quean, etc. Several editors assign this speech to Lady Capulet because the Nurse is absent, having gone to get some spices. It's also been suggested that a servant wouldn’t be bold enough to speak so disrespectfully to her master; however, as we've seen, the Nurse is an old and favored servant who enjoys a lot of freedom. For the same reason, she might not have gone for the spices right away, but may have stayed behind, like a gossip, to hear what Capulet had to say. A cot-quean refers to a man who gets involved in women's matters; it's a term used by S. only here.

11. Mouse-hunt. A woman-hunter. For mouse as a term of endearment, see Ham. iii. 4. 183, L. L. L. v. 2. 19, and T.N. i. 5. 69.

11. Mouse-hunt. A woman who hunts men. For mouse as a term of affection, see Ham. iii. 4. 183, L. L. L. v. 2. 19, and T.N. i. 5. 69.

13. Jealous-hood. Jealousy; the abstract for the concrete; used by S. only here.

13. Jealous-hood. Jealousy; the idea for the tangible; used by S. only here.

16. Drier logs. For the kitchen; not a slip like that in i. 5. 30.

16. Drier logs. For the kitchen; not a mistake like that in i. 5. 30.

21. Logger-head. Blockhead. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 204: "Ah, you whoreson loggerhead!" So logger-headed; as in T. of S. iv. 1. 128: "You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!"

21. Logger-head. Blockhead. See L. L. L. iv. 3. 204: "Ah, you foolish idiot!" So foolish; as in T. of S. iv. 1. 128: "You foolish and uncivil servants!"


Scene 5.

3. Sweet-heart. Accented on the last syllable; as regularly in S. (cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 94, etc.) except in W. T. iv. 4. 664: "take your sweet-heart's hat." Schmidt would print it as two words (as is common in the old eds.) except in this latter passage.

3. Sweet-heart. Emphasized on the last syllable; just like in S. (see Hen. VIII. i. 4. 94, etc.) except in W. T. iv. 4. 664: "take your sweet-heart's hat." Schmidt would split it into two words (as is typical in the old editions) except for this last example.

28. Will not let me speak. Malone remarks: "S. has here followed the poem closely, without recollecting that he had made Capulet, in this scene, clamorous in his grief. In Romeus and Juliet, Juliet's mother makes a long speech, but the old man utters not a word:—

28. Will not let me speak. Malone points out: "S. has closely followed the poem here, forgetting that he had shown Capulet loud in his sorrow in this scene. In Romeus and Juliet, Juliet's mother delivers a lengthy speech, but the old man doesn’t say a word:—

"'But more then all the rest the fathers hart was so
Smit with the heauy newes, and so shut vp with sodain woe,
[Pg 258]
Smit with the heauy newes, and so shut vp with sodain woe,
That he ne had the powre his daughter to bewepe,
Ne yet to speake, but long is forsd his teares and plaint to kepe.'"

The poem may have suggested Capulet's speech; but S. is not at fault in making him afterwards find his tongue and become "clamorous in his grief." That was perfectly natural.

The poem might have hinted at Capulet's speech; however, S. isn't wrong for having him later find his voice and become "clamorous in his grief." That was completely natural.

36. Life, living. There is no necessity for emendation, as some have supposed. Living is = means of living, possessions; as in M. of V. v. 1. 286: "you have given me life and living," etc.

36. Life, living. There’s no need for correction, despite what some may think. Living is refers to the means of living, or possessions; like in M. of V. v. 1. 286: "you have given me life and living," etc.

37. Thought. Expected, hoped; as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 236, etc.

37. Thought. Anticipated, desired; as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 236, etc.

41. Labour. Referring to the toilsome progress of time, as in T. of A. iii. 4. 8 (Delius).

41. Labour. Talking about the hard work that comes with time, like in T. of A. iii. 4. 8 (Delius).

44. Catch'd. Also used for the participle in L. L. L. v. 2. 69 and A. W. i. 3. 176; and for the past tense in Cor. i. 3. 68. Elsewhere S. has caught.

44. Catch'd. Also used for the participle in L. L. L. v. 2. 69 and A. W. i. 3. 176; and for the past tense in Cor. i. 3. 68. Elsewhere S. has caught.

45. O woe! White thinks that in "this speech of mock heroic woe" S. ridicules the translation of Seneca's Tragedies (1581); but it is in keeping with the character. Probably this and the next two speeches belong to the early draft of the play, with much that precedes and follows.

45. O woe! White believes that in "this speech of mock heroic woe," S. makes fun of the translation of Seneca's Tragedies (1581); but it fits the character. It's likely that this speech and the next two are part of an early draft of the play, along with much of what comes before and after.

52. Detestable. For the accent on the first syllable (as always in S.), cf. K. John, iii. 4. 29, T. of A. iv. 1. 33, and v. 3. 45 below.

52. Detestable. For the emphasis on the first syllable (as is always the case in S.), see K. John, iii. 4. 29, T. of A. iv. 1. 33, and v. 3. 45 below.

55. Despis'd, distressed, etc. In this line, as in 51, note the mixture of contracted and uncontracted participles.

55. Despis'd, distressed, etc. In this line, like in 51, pay attention to the mix of contracted and uncontracted participles.

56. Uncomfortable. Cheerless, joyless; the one instance of the word in S.

56. Uncomfortable. Without cheer, lacking joy; the only occurrence of the word in S.

60. Buried. A trisyllable here; as in v. 3. 176 below.

60. Buried. A three-syllable word here; like in v. 3. 176 below.

61. Confusion's. Here, the word is = ruin, death; but in the next line it is = confused lamentations. Cf. R. of L. 445: "fright her with confusion of their cries."

61. Confusion's. Here, the word means ruin, death; but in the next line, it means confused cries of grief. Cf. R. of L. 445: "frighten her with the chaos of their shouting."

66. His. Its. Heaven is not personified here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Its. Heaven isn't personified here.

67. Promotion. A quadrisyllable here.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A four-syllable word here.

72. Well. Often thus used of the dead. Cf. W.T. v. 1. 30, 2 Hen. IV. v. 2. 3, Macb. iv. 3. 179, A. and C. ii. 5. 33, etc. See also v. 1. 17 below.

72. Well. Often used this way for the dead. See W.T. v. 1. 30, Hen. IV. v. 2. 3, Macb. iv. 3. 179, A. and C. ii. 5. 33, etc. Also, refer to v. 1. 17 below.

75. Rosemary. That is, the rosemary that had been brought for the wedding; for it was used at both weddings and funerals. Cf. Herrick, The Rosemarie Branch:

75. Rosemary. That's the rosemary that was brought for the wedding because it was used at both weddings and funerals. Cf. Herrick, The Rosemarie Branch:

"Grow for two ends, it matters not at all,
Be 't for my bridall or my buriall;"

and Dekker, Wonderful Year: "The rosemary that was washed in sweet water to set out the bridal, is now wet in tears to furnish her burial." Cf. ii. 4. 198 above.

and Dekker, Wonderful Year: "The rosemary that was washed in sweet water for the wedding is now soaked in tears for her burial." Cf. ii. 4. 198 above.

76. As the custom is. See on iv. 1. 110 above.

76. As the custom is. Refer to iv. 1. 110 above.

78. Fond. Foolish (cf. iii. 3. 52 above), as opposed to reason.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Silly, as opposed to reason.

80. All things, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"Now is the parentes myrth quite chaunged into mone,
And now to sorrow is retornde the ioy of euery one;
And now the wedding weedes for mourning weedes they chaunge,
And Hymene into a Dyrge; alas! it seemeth straunge:
In steade of mariage gloues, now funerall gloues they haue,
And whom they should see maried, they follow to the graue.
The feast that should haue been of pleasure and of ioy
Hath euery dish and cup fild full of sorow and annoye."

95. Case. There is a play upon the other sense of the word (a case for a musical instrument); as in W.T. iv. 4. 844: "but though my case be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it" (that is, out of my skin).

95. Case. There's a clever play on the other meaning of the word (a case for a musical instrument); as in W.T. iv. 4. 844: "but even though my situation is a sad one, I hope I won't be completely stripped of it" (meaning, stripped of my skin).

96. Enter Peter. From the quartos we learn that William Kempe played the part of Peter, as he did that of Dogberry in Much Ado.

96. Enter Peter. From the quartos, we find out that William Kempe played Peter, just like he played Dogberry in Much Ado.

In explanation of the introduction of this part of the scene, Knight remarks: "It was the custom of our ancient theatre to introduce, in the irregular pauses of a play that stood in place of a division into acts, some short diversions, such as a song, a dance, or the extempore buffoonery of a clown. At this point of R. and J. there is a natural pause in the action, and at this point such an interlude would probably have been presented, whether S. had written one or not.... Will Kempe was the Liston of his day,[Pg 260] and was as great a popular favourite as Tarleton had been before him. It was wise, therefore, in S. to find some business for Will Kempe that should not be entirely out of harmony with the great business of his play. The scene of the musicians is very short, and, regarded as a necessary part of the routine of the ancient stage, is excellently managed. Nothing can be more naturally exhibited than the indifference of hirelings, without attachment, to a family scene of grief. Peter and the musicians bandy jokes; and though the musicians think Peter a 'pestilent knave,' perhaps for his inopportune sallies, they are ready enough to look after their own gratification, even amidst the sorrow which they see around them. A wedding or a burial is the same to them. 'Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.' So S. read the course of the world—and it is not much changed."

In explaining the introduction of this part of the scene, Knight notes: "It was customary in our ancient theater to introduce short diversions like a song, a dance, or the impromptu antics of a clown during the irregular pauses of a play that served as a substitute for act divisions. At this point in R. and J., there’s a natural pause in the action, and an interlude of sorts would likely have been presented, whether S. had written one or not.... Will Kempe was the Liston of his day,[Pg 260] and was as much of a popular favorite as Tarleton had been before him. It was wise, then, for S. to create a role for Will Kempe that wouldn’t clash too much with the main themes of his play. The scene with the musicians is very short and, as part of the routine of the ancient stage, is excellently executed. Nothing illustrates better the indifference of hired help, detached from family grief, than the exchange of jokes between Peter and the musicians; although the musicians consider Peter a ‘pestilent knave,’ perhaps due to his untimely jests, they are more than willing to pursue their own enjoyment, even amid the surrounding sorrow. A wedding or a funeral is the same to them. 'Come, let's go in here; wait for the mourners, and have dinner.' So S. viewed the way of the world—and it hasn’t changed much."

"To our minds," says Clarke, "the intention was to show how grief and gayety, pathos and absurdity, sorrow and jesting, elbow each other in life's crowd; how the calamities of existence fall heavily upon the souls of some, while others, standing close beside the grievers, feel no jot of suffering or sympathy. Far from the want of harmony that has been found here, we feel it to be one of those passing discords that produce richest and fullest effect of harmonious contrivance."

"To us," Clarke says, "the aim was to illustrate how grief and happiness, deep emotion and ridiculousness, sorrow and laughter exist side by side in life; how the hardships of life weigh heavily on some people's souls, while those standing right next to the people who are grieving feel no pain or compassion at all. Instead of a lack of harmony that has been noticed here, we see it as one of those temporary disharmonies that create the richest and most complete effect of harmony."

Furness states that in Edwin Booth's acting copy this scene of Peter and the musicians is transposed to i. 5. 17 above.

Furness mentions that in Edwin Booth's acting script, this scene with Peter and the musicians is moved to i. 5. 17 above.

99. Heart's ease. A popular tune of the time, mentioned in Misogonus, a play by Thomas Rychardes, written before 1570.

99. Heart's ease. A well-known song from that era, referenced in Misogonus, a play by Thomas Rychardes, written before 1570.

101. My heart is full of woe. The burden of the first stanza of A Pleasant new Ballad of Two Lovers: "Hey hoe! my heart is full of woe" (Steevens).

101. My heart is full of woe. The weight of the first stanza of A Pleasant new Ballad of Two Lovers: "Hey, oh! my heart is filled with sadness" (Steevens).

102. Dump. A mournful or plaintive song or melody. Calling it merry is a joke of Peter's. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 85: "A deploring dump." See also R. of L. 1127.

102. Dump. A sad or sorrowful song or tune. Referring to it as happy is just Peter's joke. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 85: "A lamenting tune." See also R. of L. 1127.

109. Gleek. Scoff. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 123: "Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?" To give the gleek[Pg 261] was "to pass a jest upon, to make a person ridiculous." It is impossible to say what is the joke in give you the minstrel. Some suppose that gleek suggests gleeman, one form of which in Anglo-Saxon was gligman, but no such form is found in English, if we may trust the New Eng. Dict. The reply of the musician may perhaps mean "that he will retort by calling Peter the servant to the minstrel" (White).

109. Gleek. Mock. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 123: "Now where's the Bastard's bravadoes, and Charles his jests?" To give the gleek[Pg 261] meant "to make a joke about someone, to make them look silly." It's unclear what the joke in give you the minstrel is. Some believe that gleek suggests gleeman, one version of which in Anglo-Saxon was gligman, but no such version appears in English, if we can trust the New Eng. Dict. The musician's response might imply "that he will counter by referring to Peter as the servant to the minstrel" (White).

114. I will carry no crotchets. I will bear none of your whims; with a play on crotchets, as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 58. Cf. carry coals in i. 1. 1 above. The play on note is obvious.

114. I will carry no crotchets. I won't tolerate any of your nonsense; with a reference to crotchets, like in Much Ado, ii. 3. 58. Compare with carry coals in i. 1. 1 above. The wordplay on note is clear.

120. Drybeat. See on iii. 1. 81 above. For have at you, cf. i. 1. 64 above.

120. Drybeat. Refer to iii. 1. 81 above. For have at you, see i. 1. 64 above.

122. When griping grief, etc. From a poem by Richard Edwards, in the Paradise of Daintie Devises. See also Percy's Reliques.

122. When griping grief, etc. From a poem by Richard Edwards, in the Paradise of Dainty Devices. See also Percy's Reliques.

126. Catling. A small string of catgut. Cf. T. and C. iii. 3. 306: "unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on."

126. Catling. A small piece of catgut. See T. and C. iii. 3. 306: "unless the fiddler Apollo gets his strings to make catlings on."

132. Pretty. Some of the German critics are troubled by pretty, because Peter does not intend to praise; and irony, they say, would be out of place. It is simply a jocose patronizing expression = That's not bad in its way, but you haven't hit it. The rebeck was a kind of three-stringed fiddle. Cf. Milton, L'All. 94: "And the jocund rebecks sound," etc.

132. Pretty. Some German critics are bothered by the word pretty because Peter doesn’t mean it as a compliment; they argue that irony wouldn’t fit. It’s just a lighthearted, condescending remark—like saying, "That's not bad, but you didn’t quite get it." The rebeck was a type of three-stringed fiddle. See Milton, L'All. 94: "And the jocund rebecks sound," etc.

141. Pestilent. Often used in an opprobrious sense; as in Lear, i. 4. 127: "A pestilent gall to me!" Oth. ii. 1. 252: "A pestilent complete knave," etc.

141. Pestilent. Often used in a negative way; for example in Lear, i. 4. 127: "A harmful annoyance to me!" Oth. ii. 1. 252: "A harmful total rascal," etc.

142. Jack. See on iii. 1. 12 above; and for stay = wait for, on ii. 5. 36.

142. Jack. Refer to iii. 1. 12 above; and for stay = wait for, see ii. 5. 36.


ACT V

Scene. I.

1. The flattering truth. This is apparently = that which bears the flattering semblance of truth. It has perplexed[Pg 262] some of the critics, but their emendations do not better it. For flattering in the sense of illusive, cf. ii. 2. 141. Some have wondered that S. here makes the presentiment a hopeful one; but as a writer in the Cornhill Magazine (October, 1866) remarks, the presentiment was true, but Romeo did not trust it. Had he done so, his fate would not have been so tragic.

1. The flattering truth. This seems to be what looks like the truth. It has confused[Pg 262] some critics, but their revisions don’t improve it. For flattering in the sense of deceptive, see ii. 2. 141. Some have questioned why S. here makes the intuition a positive one; but as a writer in the Cornhill Magazine (October, 1866) notes, the intuition was correct, but Romeo didn’t believe it. If he had, his fate wouldn’t have been so tragic.

3. My bosom's lord. That is, my heart; not Love, or Cupid, as some would make it. Lines 3-5 seem to me only a highly poetical description of the strange new cheerfulness and hopefulness he feels—a reaction from his former depression which is like his dream of rising from the dead an emperor.

3. My bosom's lord. I mean my heart; not Love or Cupid, as some might say. Lines 3-5 look to me like a really poetic way of describing the unusual new happiness and optimism he feels—a shift from his earlier sadness that resembles his dream of coming back to life as an emperor.

10. Ah me! See on Ay me! ii. 1. 10 above. It may be a misprint for "Ay me!" here.

10. Ah me! See on Oh no! ii. 1. 10 above. It might be a typo for "Oh no!" here.

12. Balthasar. Always accented by S. on the first syllable. The name occurs in C. of E., Much Ado, and M. of V.

12. Balthasar. Always stressed on the first syllable. The name appears in C. of E., Much Ado, and M. of V.

17. She is well. See on iv. 5. 72 above.

17. She is well. Refer to iv. 5. 72 above.

18. Capel's. The early eds. have "Capels"; the modern ones generally "Capels'." The singular seems better here, on account of the omission of the article; but the plural in v. 3. 127: "the Capels' monument." S. uses this abbreviation only twice. Brooke uses Capel and Capulet indiscriminately. See quotation in note on i. 1. 28 above.

18. Capel's. The early editions have "Capels"; the modern ones usually use "Capels'." The singular seems better here because the article is omitted; however, the plural appears in v. 3. 127: "the Capels' monument." S. uses this abbreviation only twice. Brooke uses Capel and Capulet interchangeably. See the quotation in the note on i. 1. 28 above.

21. Presently. Immediately; the usual meaning in S. Cf. iv. 1. 54 and 95 above.

21. Presently. Right away; the typical definition in S. See iv. 1. 54 and 95 above.

27. Patience. A trisyllable, as in v. 3. 221 and 261 below.

27. Patience. A three-syllable word, like in lines 3, 221, and 261 below.

29. Misadventure. Mischance, misfortune; used by S. only here and in v. 3. 188 below. Misadventured occurs only in prol. 7 above.

29. Misadventure. Bad luck, misfortune; used by S. only here and in v. 3. 188 below. Misadventured appears only in prol. 7 above.

36. In. Into; as often. Cf. v. 3. 34 below.

36. In. Into; as often. Cf. v. 3. 34 below.

37. I do remember, etc. Joseph Warton objects to the detailed description here as "improperly put into the mouth of a person agitated with such passion." "But," as Knight remarks, "the mind once made up, it took a perverse pleasure in going over every circumstance that had suggested the means of mischief. All other[Pg 263] thoughts had passed out of Romeo's mind. He had nothing left but to die; and everything connected with the means of death was seized upon by his imagination with an energy that could only find relief in words. S. has exhibited the same knowledge of nature in his sad and solemn poem of R. of L., where the injured wife, having resolved to wipe out her stain by death,

37. I do remember, etc. Joseph Warton criticizes the detailed description here as "inappropriate for someone in such a state of agitation." "But," as Knight points out, "once the mind is made up, it takes a twisted pleasure in revisiting every detail that led to the plan for harm. All other[Pg 263] thoughts vanished from Romeo's mind. He had nothing left but the desire to die; and everything related to the means of his death was captured by his imagination with a force that could only find expression in words. S. shows a similar understanding of nature in his somber poem R. of L., where the wronged wife, resolved to erase her shame through death,

"'calls to mind where hangs a piece
Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy.'

She sees in that painting some fancied resemblance to her own position, and spends the heavy hours till her husband arrives in its contemplation." See R. of L. 1366 fol. and 1496 fol.

She sees in that painting a faint similarity to her own situation and spends the long hours until her husband arrives lost in thought about it. See R. of L. 1366 fol. and 1496 fol.

39. Overwhelming. Overhanging. Cf. V. and A. 183: "His lowering brows o'erwhelming his fair sight." See also Hen. V. iii. 1. 11. For weeds = garments, see M.N.D. ii. 2. 71, etc.

39. Overwhelming. Overhanging. Cf. V. and A. 183: "His lowering brows overwhelming his fair sight." See also Hen. V. iii. 1. 11. For weeds = clothes, see M.N.D. ii. 2. 71, etc.

40. Simples. Medicinal herbs. Cf. R. of L. 530, Ham. iv. 7. 145, etc.

40. Simples. Healing herbs. See R. of L. 530, Ham. iv. 7. 145, etc.

43. An alligator stuff'd. This was a regular part of the furniture of an apothecary's shop in the time of S. Nash, in his Have With You, etc., 1596, refers to "an apothecary's crocodile or dried alligator." Steevens says that he has met with the alligator, tortoise, etc., hanging up in the shop of an ancient apothecary at Limehouse, as well as in places more remote from the metropolis. In Dutch art, as Fairholt remarks, these marine monsters often appear in representations of apothecaries' shops.

43. An alligator stuff'd. This was a common fixture in an apothecary's shop during the time of S. Nash, who, in his Have With You, etc., 1596, mentions "an apothecary's crocodile or dried alligator." Steevens notes that he has seen the alligator, tortoise, and other specimens hanging in the shop of an old apothecary at Limehouse, as well as in places further from the city. In Dutch art, as Fairholt points out, these sea creatures often show up in depictions of apothecaries' shops.

45. A beggarly account, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"And seeking long (alac too soone) the thing he sought, he founde.
An Apothecary sate vnbusied at his doore,
Whom by his heauy countenaunce he gessed to be poore.
And in his shop he saw his boxes were but fewe,
And in his window (of his wares) there was so small a shew,
Wherfore our Romeus assuredly hath thought,
What by no frendship could be got, with money should be bought;
For nedy lacke is lyke the poore man to compell
To sell that which the cities lawe forbiddeth him to sell.
[Pg 264]
Then by the hand he drew the nedy man apart,
And with the sight of glittring gold inflamed hath his hart:
Take fiftie crownes of gold (quoth he) I geue them thee.
*          *          *          *          *          *          *
Fayre syr (quoth he) be sure this is the speeding gere,
And more there is then you shall nede for halfe of that is there
Will serue, I vnder take, in lesse than halfe an howre
To kill the strongest man aliue; such is the poysons power."

51. Present. Immediate; as in iv. 1. 61 above. Cf. presently in 21 above. Secret poisoning became so common in Europe in the 16th century that laws against the sale of poisons were made in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and other countries. Knight says: "There is no such law in our own statute-book; and the circumstance is a remarkable exemplification of the difference between English and Continental manners." But that this practice of poisoning prevailed to a considerable extent in England in the olden time is evident from the fact that in the 21st year of the reign of Henry VIII. an act was passed declaring the employment of secret poisons to be high-treason, and sentencing those who were found guilty of it to be boiled to death.

51. Present. Immediate; as in iv. 1. 61 above. Cf. presently in 21 above. Secret poisoning became so widespread in Europe during the 16th century that laws against the sale of poisons were established in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and other countries. Knight states: "There is no such law in our own statute-book; and this highlights the significant differences between English and Continental customs." However, the fact that poisoning was fairly common in England in the past is clear from the legislation passed in the 21st year of Henry VIII's reign, which declared the use of secret poisons to be high treason, with those found guilty sentenced to be boiled alive.

60. Soon-speeding gear. Quick-despatching stuff. Cf. the extract from Brooke just above. For gear, see ii. 4. 97 above.

60. Soon-speeding gear. Fast-moving stuff. See the excerpt from Brooke just above. For gear, refer to ii. 4. 97 above.

64. As violently, etc. See on ii. 6. 9 above.

64. As violently, etc. See on ii. 6. 9 above.

67. Any he. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 414: "that unfortunate he;" 3 Hen. VI. i. 1. 46: "The proudest he;" Id. ii. 2. 97: "Or any he the proudest of thy sort," etc. Utters them = literally, sends them out, or lets them go from his possession; hence, sells them. Cf. L. L. L. ii. 1. 16 and W. T. iv. 4. 330.

67. Any he. See A. Y. L. iii. 2. 414: "that unfortunate guy;" 3 Hen. VI. i. 1. 46: "The proudest guy;" Id. ii. 2. 97: "Or any guy the proudest of your kind," etc. Utters them = literally, sends them out, or lets them go from his possession; so, it means sells them. See L. L. L. ii. 1. 16 and W. T. iv. 4. 330.

70. Starveth. That is, look out hungrily; a bold but not un-Shakespearian expression, for which Otway's "stareth" (adopted by some editors) is a poor substitution. See on i. 1. 216 above; and for the inflection, on prol. 8.

70. Starveth. In other words, look out with eagerness; it's a bold expression that fits with Shakespeare's style, unlike Otway's "stareth" which some editors have used as a weak alternative. Refer to i. 1. 216 above; and for the inflection, see prol. 8.


Scene 2.

4. A barefoot brother. Friars Laurence and John are evidently Franciscans. "In his kindness, his learning, and his[Pg 265] inclination to mix with and, perhaps, control the affairs of the world, he [Laurence] is no unapt representative of this distinguished order in their best days" (Knight). Warton says that the Franciscans "managed the machines of every important operation and event, both in the religious and political world."

4. A barefoot brother. Friars Laurence and John are clearly Franciscans. "In his kindness, knowledge, and tendency to be involved in and possibly influence worldly matters, he [Laurence] is a fitting representative of this notable order at its peak" (Knight). Warton mentions that the Franciscans "handled the machinery of every significant operation and event, both in the religious and political arenas."

Cf. Brooke's poem:—

See Brooke's poem:—

"Apace our frier Iohn to Mantua him hyes;
And, for because in Italy it is a wonted gyse
That friers in the towne should seeldome walke alone,
But of theyr couent ay should be accompanide with one
Of his profession, straight a house he fyndeth out,
In mynde to take some frier with him, to walke the towne about."

Each friar has a companion assigned him by the superior when he asks leave to go out; and thus they are a check upon each other (Steevens).

Each friar has a companion assigned to him by the superior when he requests permission to go out; this way, they keep an eye on each other (Steevens).

6. Associate me. Accompany me. For the transitive use, cf. T.A. v. 3. 169: "Friends should associate friends in grief and woe."

6. Associate me. Come with me. For the transitive use, see T.A. v. 3. 169: "Friends should be there for friends in grief and hardship."

9. A house. According to both the poem and the novel, this was the convent to which the "barefoot brother" belonged.

9. A house. Both the poem and the novel state that this was the convent where the "barefoot brother" was a member.

16. Infection. A quadrisyllable. Cf, iv. 1. 41 above.

16. Infection. A four-syllable word. See iv. 1. 41 above.

18. Nice. Trifling, unimportant. See on iii. 1. 157 above. For charge, cf. W.T. iv. 4. 261: "I have about me many parcels of charge."

18. Nice. Trivial, insignificant. See on iii. 1. 157 above. For charge, see W.T. iv. 4. 261: "I have many items of responsibility with me."

19. Dear. Cf. v. 3. 32 below: "dear employment."

19. Dear. See v. 3. 32 below: "valued work."

20. Do much danger. See on iii. 3. 118 above.

20. Do much danger. Refer to iii. 3. 118 above.

25. This three hours. The singular this is often thus used; but cf. iv. 3. 40 above: "these many hundred years;" and v. 3. 176 below: "these two days."

25. This three hours. The word this is frequently used in this way; but see iv. 3. 40 above: "these many hundred years;" and v. 3. 176 below: "these two days."

26. Beshrew. See on ii. 5. 52 above.

26. Beshrew. Refer to ii. 5. 52 above.


Scene 3.

A Churchyard, etc. Hunter says: "It is clear that S., or some writer whom he followed, had in mind the churchyard[Pg 266] of Saint Mary the Old in Verona, and the monument of the Scaligers which stood in it." See the cut on p. 136, and cf. Brooke, who refers to the Italian custom of building large family tombs:—

A Churchyard, etc. Hunter says: "It's clear that S., or a writer he followed, was thinking of the churchyard[Pg 266] of Saint Mary the Old in Verona, and the monument of the Scaligers that stood there." Check out the image on p. 136, and also see Brooke, who mentions the Italian tradition of constructing large family tombs:—

"For euery houshold, if it be of any fame;
Doth bylde a tombe, or digge a vault, that beares the housholdes name:
Wherein (if any of that kindred hap to dye)
They are bestowde; els in the same no other corps may lye.
The Capilets her corps in such a one dyd lay
Where Tybalt slaine of Romeus was layde the other day."

At the close of the poem we are told that—

At the end of the poem, we learn that—

"The bodies dead, remoued from vaulte where they did dye,
In stately tombe, on pillers great of marble, rayse they hye.
On euery syde aboue were set, and eke beneath,
Great store of cunning Epitaphes, in honor of theyr death.
And euen at this day the tombe is to be seene;
So that among the monumentes that in Verona been,
There is no monument more worthy of the sight,
Then is the tombe of Iuliet and Romeus her knight."

See also the quotation in note on iv. 1. 93 above. Brooke's reference to the "stately tombe, on pillers great," etc., was doubtless suggested by the Tomb of the Scaligers.

See also the quote in the note on iv. 1. 93 above. Brooke's mention of the "stately tomb, on pillars great," etc., was surely inspired by the Tomb of the Scaligers.

3. Lay thee all along. That is, at full length. Cf. A.Y.L. ii. 1. 30: "As he lay along Under an oak;" J.C. iii. 1. 115: "That now on Pompey's basis lies along," etc.

3. Lay thee all along. In other words, in full detail. See A.Y.L. ii. 1. 30: "As he lay stretched out under an oak;" J.C. iii. 1. 115: "That now lies stretched out on Pompey's foundation," etc.

6. Unfirm. Cf. J.C. i. 3. 4, T.N. ii. 4. 34, etc. S. also uses infirm, as in Macb. ii. 2. 52, etc.

6. Unfirm. Cf. J.C. i. 3. 4, T.N. ii. 4. 34, etc. S. also uses infirm, as in Macb. ii. 2. 52, etc.

8. Something. The accent is on the last syllable, as Walker notes; and Marshall prints "some thing," as in the folio.

8. Something. The emphasis is on the last syllable, as Walker points out; and Marshall writes "some thing," just like in the folio.

11. Adventure. Cf. ii. 2. 84 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See ii. 2. 84 above.

14. Sweet water. Perfumed water. Cf. T.A. ii. 4. 6: "call for sweet water;" and see quotation in note on iv. 5. 75 above.

14. Sweet water. Scented water. Cf. T.A. ii. 4. 6: "ask for sweet water;" and see the quote in the note on iv. 5. 75 above.

20. Cross. Thwart, interfere with. Cf. iv. 5. 91 above.

20. Cross. Block, disrupt. See iv. 5. 91 above.

21. Muffle. Cover, hide. Cf. i. 1. 168 above; and see J.C. iii. 2. 191, etc. Steevens intimates that it was "a low word" in his day; but, if so, it has since regained its poetical character. Tennyson uses it repeatedly; as in The Talking Oak: "O, muffle round thy knees with fern;" The Princess: "A full sea glazed with muffled moonlight;" In Memoriam: "muffled round with woe," etc. Milton has unmuffle in Comus, 321: "Unmuffle, ye faint stars."

21. Muffle. Cover, conceal. Cf. i. 1. 168 above; and see J.C. iii. 2. 191, etc. Steevens suggests that it was "a low word" in his time; but if that's true, it has since regained its poetic quality. Tennyson uses it repeatedly, as in The Talking Oak: "O, muffle round thy knees with fern;" The Princess: "A full sea glazed with muffled moonlight;" In Memoriam: "muffled round with woe," etc. Milton has unmuffle in Comus, 321: "Unmuffle, ye faint stars."

32. Dear. See on v. 2. 19 above.

32. Dear. Refer to verse 2, 19 above.

33. Jealous. Suspicious; as in Lear, v. 1. 56, J.C. i. 2. 71, etc.

33. Jealous. Distrustful; similar to Lear, v. 1. 56, J.C. i. 2. 71, etc.

34. In. Into. See on v. 1. 36 above.

34. In. Into. See on v. 1. 36 above.

37. Savage-wild. Cf. ii. 2. 141 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See ii. 2. 141 above.

39. Empty. Hungry. Cf. V. and A. 55: "Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast" (see also 2 Hen. VI. iii. 1. 248 and 3 Hen. VI. i. 1. 268); and T. of S. iv. 1. 193: "My falcon now is sharp and passing empty."

39. Empty. Hungry. Cf. V. and A. 55: "Just like a hungry eagle, sharp from fasting" (see also 2 Hen. VI. iii. 1. 248 and 3 Hen. VI. i. 1. 268); and T. of S. iv. 1. 193: "My falcon is now sharp and really hungry."

44. Doubt. Distrust; as in J.C. ii. 1. 132, iv. 2. 13, etc.

44. Doubt. Mistrust; as in J.C. ii. 1. 132, iv. 2. 13, etc.

45. Detestable. See on iv. 5. 52 above.

45. Detestable. Refer to iv. 5. 52 above.

47. Enforce. Force; as often. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 100: "Enforce them to this place," etc.

47. Enforce. Force; as frequently. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 100: "Make them come to this place," etc.

50. With. Often used to express the relation of cause.

50. With. Commonly used to show the relationship of cause.

59. Good gentle youth, etc. "The gentleness of Romeo was shown before [iii. 1. 64 fol.] as softened by love, and now it is doubled by love and sorrow, and awe of the place where he is" (Coleridge).

59. Good gentle youth, etc. "Romeo's kindness was evident before [iii. 1. 64 fol.] as it was softened by love, and now it's intensified by love and grief, along with the reverence for the place he’s in" (Coleridge).

68. Conjurations. Solemn entreaties; as in Rich. II. iii. 2. 23, Ham. v. 2. 38, etc. Some have taken it to mean incantations. Defy = refuse; as in K. John, iii. 4. 23: "I defy all counsel," etc.

68. Conjurations. Serious pleas; as in Rich. II. iii. 2. 23, Ham. v. 2. 38, etc. Some interpret it as spells. Defy = refuse; as in K. John, iii. 4. 23: "I defy all advice," etc.

74. Peruse. Scan, examine. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 137: "peruse the foils," etc.

74. Peruse. Look over, check it out. See Ham. iv. 7. 137: "look over the foils," etc.

76. Betossed. Agitated; used by S. nowhere else.

76. Betossed. Upset; used by S. nowhere else.

82. Sour. See on iii. 3. 7 above.

82. Sour. Refer to iii. 3. 7 above.

84. Lantern. Used in the architectural sense of "a turret full of windows" (Steevens). Cf. Parker, Glossary of Architecture:[Pg 268] "In Gothic architecture the term is sometimes applied to louvres on the roofs of halls, etc., but it usually signifies a tower which has the whole height, or a considerable portion of the interior, open to the ground, and is lighted by an upper tier of windows; lantern-towers of this kind are common over the centre of cross churches, as at York Minster, Ely Cathedral, etc. The same name is also given to the light open erections often placed on the top of towers, as at Boston, Lincolnshire," etc. The one at Boston was used as a lighthouse lantern in the olden time.

84. Lantern. Used in the architectural sense of "a turret full of windows" (Steevens). See Parker, Glossary of Architecture:[Pg 268] "In Gothic architecture, the term is sometimes used for louvres on the roofs of halls, etc., but it usually refers to a tower that has the full height, or a significant portion of the interior, open to the ground and lit by an upper tier of windows; lantern towers of this kind are common over the center of cross churches, like at York Minster, Ely Cathedral, etc. The same name is also given to the light, open structures often placed on top of towers, such as in Boston, Lincolnshire," etc. The one in Boston was used as a lighthouse lantern in the past.

86. Presence. Presence-chamber, state apartment; as in Rich. II. i. 3. 289 and Hen. VIII. iii. 1. 17.

86. Presence. Audience room, official living space; as in Rich. II. i. 3. 289 and Hen. VIII. iii. 1. 17.

87. Death. The abstract for the concrete. The dead man is Romeo, who is so possessed with his suicidal purpose that he speaks of himself as dead. Steevens perversely calls it one of "those miserable conceits with which our author too frequently counteracts his own pathos."

87. Death. The abstract for the concrete. The dead man is Romeo, who is so consumed by his desire to end his life that he talks about himself as if he’s already dead. Steevens oddly refers to it as one of "those miserable ideas that our author too often undermines with his own emotional depth."

88-120. How oft when men, etc. "Here, here, is the master example how beauty can at once increase and modify passion" (Coleridge).

88-120. How oft when men, etc. "Look here, this is the perfect example of how beauty can both intensify and change passion" (Coleridge).

90. A lightning before death. "A last blazing-up of the flame of life;" a proverbial expression. Steevens quotes The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601:—

90. A lightning before death. "One final flare-up of the flame of life;" a well-known saying. Steevens cites The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601:—

"I thought it was a lightning before death,
Too sudden to be certain."

Clarke notes "the mingling here of words and images full of light and colour with the murky grey of the sepulchral vault and the darkness of the midnight churchyard, the blending of these images of beauty and tenderness with the deep gloom of the speaker's inmost heart."

Clarke notes "the mixing of bright, colorful words and images with the gloomy gray of the grave-like vault and the darkness of the midnight graveyard, the merging of these beautiful and tender images with the deep sadness of the speaker's innermost heart."

92. Suck'd the honey, etc. Cf. Ham. iii. 1. 164: "That suck'd the honey of his music vows." Steevens quotes Sidney, Arcadia: "Death being able to divide the soule, but not the beauty from her body."

92. Suck'd the honey, etc. See Ham. iii. 1. 164: "That absorbed the sweetness of his musical promises." Steevens cites Sidney, Arcadia: "Death can separate the soul, but not the beauty from her body."

96. Death's pale flag. Steevens compares Daniel, Complaint of Rosamond:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steevens compares Daniel, Complaint of Rosamond:—

"And nought-respecting death (the last of paines)
Plac'd his pale colours (th' ensign of his might)
Upon his new-got spoil."

97. Tybalt, etc. Cf. Brooke's poem:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ etc. See Brooke's poem:—

"Ah cosin dere, Tybalt, where so thy restles sprite now be,
With stretched handes to thee for mercy now I crye,
For that before thy kindly howre I forced thee to dye.
But if with quenched lyfe not quenched be thine yre,
But with revengeing lust as yet thy hart be set on fyre,
What more amendes, or cruell wreke desyrest thou
To see on me, then this which here is shewd forth to thee now?
Who reft by force of armies from thee thy living breath,
The same with his owne hand (thou seest) doth poyson himselfe to death."

106. Still. Constantly, always; as very often. Cf. 270 below.

106. Still. Constantly, always; just like very often. See 270 below.

110. Set up my everlasting rest. That is, remain forever. To set up one's rest was a phrase taken from gaming, the rest being the highest stake the parties were disposed to venture; hence it came to mean to have fully made up one's mind, to be resolved. Here the form of expression seems to be suggested by the gaming phrase rather than to be a figurative example of it.

110. Set up my everlasting rest. That is, stay forever. To set up one's rest was a phrase from gambling, where the rest was the highest amount the players were willing to bet; therefore, it came to mean having fully made up one's mind and being determined. Here, the expression seems to be inspired by the gambling phrase rather than being a figurative example of it.

112-118. Eyes ... bark. Whiter points out a coincidence between this last speech of Romeo's and a former one (i. 4. 103 fol.) in which he anticipates his misfortunes. "The ideas drawn from the stars, the law, and the sea succeed each other in both speeches, in the same order, though with a different application."

112-118. Eyes ... bark. Whiter notes a coincidence between Romeo's final speech and an earlier one (i. 4. 103 fol.) where he predicts his misfortunes. "The concepts related to the stars, the law, and the sea follow each other in both speeches, in the same sequence, but with a different meaning."

115. Dateless. Limitless, eternal. Cf. Sonn. 30. 6: "death's dateless night;" Rich. III. i. 3. 151: "The dateless limit of thy dear exile," etc.

115. Dateless. Boundless, everlasting. See Sonn. 30. 6: "death's timeless night;" Rich. III. i. 3. 151: "The endless limit of your dear exile," etc.

Engrossing. Malone says that the word "seems here to be used in its clerical sense." There seems to be at least a hint of that[Pg 270] sense, suggested by seal and bargain; but the leading meaning is that of all-seizing, or "taking the whole," as Schmidt explains it.

Engrossing. Malone states that the word "seems to be used here in its clerical sense." There appears to be at least a hint of that[Pg 270] meaning, indicated by seal and bargain; however, the primary meaning refers to all-encompassing, or "taking the whole," as Schmidt explains it.

116. Conduct. See on iii. 1. 127 above. For unsavoury, cf. V. and A. 1138: "sweet beginning, but unsavoury end." Schmidt, who rarely makes such a slip, treats both of these examples as literal rather than metaphorical. The only example of the former sense in S. (not really his) is Per. ii. 3. 31: "All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury."

116. Conduct. See on iii. 1. 127 above. For unsavoury, see V. and A. 1138: "sweet beginning, but unsavoury end." Schmidt, who rarely makes such a mistake, interprets both of these examples literally instead of metaphorically. The only example of the former meaning in S. (not really his) is Per. ii. 3. 31: "All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury."

118. Thy. Pope substituted "my," but thy may be defended on the nautical principle that the pilot is the master of the ship after he takes her in charge. That seems to be Romeo's thought here; he gives up the helm to the "desperate pilot," and says, "The ship is yours, run her upon the rocks if you will."

118. Thy. Pope swapped "my" for "thy," but "thy" can be justified by the nautical idea that once the pilot is in charge, they are the master of the ship. That appears to be Romeo's mindset here; he hands over control to the "desperate pilot" and says, "The ship is yours, steer her into the rocks if you want."

121. Be my speed. Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 194: "Saint Denis be my speed!" A. Y. L. i. 2. 222: "Hercules be thy speed!" etc.

121. Be my speed. Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 194: "Saint Denis help me!" A. Y. L. i. 2. 222: "Hercules help you!" etc.

122. Stumbled at graves. The idea that to stumble is a bad omen is very ancient. Cicero mentions it in his De Divinatione. Melton, in his Astrologaster, 1620, says that "if a man stumbles in a morning as soon as he comes out of dores, it is a signe of ill lucke." Bishop Hall, in his Characters, says of the "Superstitious Man" that "if he stumbled at the threshold, he feares a mischief." Stumbling at graves is alluded to in Whimzies, or a New Cast of Characters, 1631: "His earth-reverting body (according to his mind) is to be buried in some cell, roach, or vault, and in no open space, lest passengers (belike) might stumble on his grave." Steevens cites 3 Hen. VI. iv. 7. 11 and Rich. III. iii. 4. 86.

122. Stumbled at graves. The belief that stumbling is a bad sign is very old. Cicero talks about it in his On Divination. Melton, in his Astrologaster from 1620, states that "if a man stumbles in the morning as soon as he steps outside, it’s a sign of bad luck." Bishop Hall, in his Characters, mentions the "Superstitious Man," saying that "if he stumbles at the threshold, he fears trouble." There’s also a reference to stumbling at graves in Whimzies, or a New Cast of Characters from 1631: "His body, returning to the earth (according to his mind), is to be buried in some enclosed space, crypt, or vault, and not in the open, lest passersby (it seems) might stumble on his grave." Steevens cites Henry VI iv. 7. 11 and Richard III iii. 4. 86.

127. Capels'. See on v. 1. 18 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See verse 1.18 above.

138. I dreamt, etc. Steevens considers this a touch or nature: "What happens to a person under the manifest influence of fear will seem to him, when he is recovered from it, like a dream." It seems to me more likely that the man confuses what he saw while half asleep with what he might have dreamt.

138. I dreamt, etc. Steevens thinks this reflects a natural instinct: "What a person experiences under the clear influence of fear will seem to them, once they have recovered, like a dream." I believe it's more probable that the person is mixing up what he saw while partly asleep with what he might have dreamed.

145. Unkind. Usually accented on the first syllable before a noun, but otherwise on the second. This often occurs with dis-syllabic[Pg 271] adjectives and participles. Unkind and its derivatives are often used by S. in a much stronger sense than at present. In some cases, the etymological sense of unnatural (cf. kind and kindly = natural) seems to cling to them. Cf. J.C. iii. 2. 187, Lear, i. 1. 263, iii. 4. 73, etc.

145. Unkind. Typically stressed on the first syllable before a noun, but otherwise on the second. This often happens with two-syllable[Pg 271] adjectives and participles. Unkind and its variations are often used by S. in a much stronger way than they are today. In some cases, the original meaning of unnatural (see kind and kindly = natural) seems to stick to them. See J.C. iii. 2. 187, Lear, i. 1. 263, iii. 4. 73, etc.

148. Comfortable. Used in an active sense = ready to comfort or help; as in A.W. i. 1. 86, Lear, i. 4. 328, etc.

148. Comfortable. Used in an active sense = prepared to offer comfort or assistance; as seen in A.W. i. 1. 86, Lear, i. 4. 328, etc.

158. The watch. It has been asserted by some of the critics that there was no watch in the old Italian cities; but, however that may have been, S. follows Brooke's poem:—

158. The watch. Some critics have claimed that there were no clocks in the old Italian cities; but regardless of that, S. follows Brooke's poem:—

"The watchemen of the towne the whilst are passed by,
And through the gates the candel light within the tombe they spye."

162. Timeless. Untimely. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 1. 21: "your timeless grave;" Rich. II. iv. 1. 5: "his timeless end," etc.

162. Timeless. Too soon. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 1. 21: "your eternal grave;" Rich. II. iv. 1. 5: "his eternal end," etc.

163. Drunk all, and left. The reading of 2nd quarto. The 1st has "drink ... leave," and the folio "drink ... left."

163. Drunk all, and left. The reading of the second quarto. The first has "drink ... leave," and the folio has "drink ... left."

170. There rest. From 1st quarto; the other early eds. have "rust," which some editors prefer. To me rest seems both more poetical and more natural. That at this time Juliet should think of "Romeo's dagger, which would otherwise rust in its sheath, as rusting in her heart," is quite inconceivable. It is a "conceit" of the worst Elizabethan type.

170. There rest. From the first quarto; the other early editions have "rust," which some editors like. To me, rest feels both more poetic and more natural. At this moment, it’s hard to imagine Juliet thinking about "Romeo's dagger, which would otherwise rust in its sheath, as rusting in her heart." That’s a "conceit" of the worst kind from the Elizabethan era.

The tragedy here ends in Booth's Acting Copy (Furness).

The tragedy here concludes in Booth's Acting Copy (Furness).

173. Attach. Arrest; as in C. of E. iv. 1. 6, 73, iv. 4. 6, Rich. II. ii. 3. 156, Hen. VIII. i. 1. 217, i. 2. 210, etc.

173. Attach. Arrest; as in C. of E. iv. 1. 6, 73, iv. 4. 6, Rich. II. ii. 3. 156, Hen. VIII. i. 1. 217, i. 2. 210, etc.

176. These two days. See on iv. 1. 105 above.

176. These two days. Refer to iv. 1. 105 above.

181. Without circumstance. Without further particulars. Cf. ii. 5. 36 above.

181. Without circumstance. Without more details. See ii. 5. 36 above.

203. His house. Its sheath. See on ii, 6. 12 above.

203. His house. Its sheath. See on ii, 6. 12 above.

204. On the back. The dagger was commonly turned behind and worn at the back, as Steevens shows by sundry quotations.

204. On the back. The dagger was typically worn at the back, as Steevens demonstrates with several quotes.

207. Old age. A slip which, strangely enough, no editor or commentator[Pg 272] has noticed. Furness notes no reference to it, and I find none in more recent editions. See on i. 3. 51 above.

207. Old age. A mistake that, oddly enough, no editor or commentator[Pg 272] has pointed out. Furness didn’t mention it, and I haven’t seen it in more recent editions either. Refer to i. 3. 51 above.

211. Grief of my son's exile. Cf. Much Ado, iv. 2. 65: "and upon the grief of this suddenly died." For the accent of exile, cf. iii. 1. 190 and iii. 3. 20 above.

211. Grief of my son's exile. See Much Ado, iv. 2. 65: "and because of this grief, he suddenly died." For the emphasis on exile, see iii. 1. 190 and iii. 3. 20 above.

After this line the 1st quarto has the following: "And yong Benuolio is deceased too;" but, as Ulrici remarks, "the pacific, considerate Benvolio, the constant counseller of moderation, ought not to be involved in the fate which had overtaken the extremes of hate and passion."

After this line, the 1st quarto has the following: "And young Benvolio is dead too;" but, as Ulrici notes, "the peaceful, thoughtful Benvolio, the steadfast advisor of moderation, shouldn't be caught up in the fate that has befallen the extremes of hatred and passion."

214. Manners. S. makes the word either singular or plural, like news, tidings (see on iii. 5. 105 above), etc. Cf. A. W. ii. 2. 9, W. T. iv. 4. 244, etc. with T. N. iv. 1. 53, Rich. III. iii. 7. 191, etc.

214. Manners. S. makes the word either singular or plural, like news, tidings (see on iii. 5. 105 above), etc. Cf. A. W. ii. 2. 9, W. T. iv. 4. 244, etc. with T. N. iv. 1. 53, Rich. III. iii. 7. 191, etc.

216. Outrage. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iv. 1. 126:—

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See 1 Henry VI iv. 1. 126:—

"Are you not asham'd
With this immodest clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the king and us?"

There, as here, it means a mad outcry. Dyce quotes Settle, Female Prelate: "Silence his outrage in a jayl, away with him!"

There, as here, it means a crazy outcry. Dyce quotes Settle, Female Prelate: "Silence his outrage in a jail, get rid of him!"

221. Patience. A trisyllable. See on v. 1. 27 above. In the next line suspicion is a quadrisyllable.

221. Patience. A three-syllable word. See on v. 1. 27 above. In the next line suspicion is a four-syllable word.

229. I will be brief, etc. Johnson and Malone criticise S. for following Brooke in the introduction of this long narrative. Ulrici well defends it as preparing the way for the reconciliation of the Capulets and Montagues over the dead bodies of their children, the victims of their hate. For date, see on i. 4. 105 above.

229. I will be brief, etc. Johnson and Malone criticize S. for following Brooke in introducing this lengthy narrative. Ulrici defends it well as it sets the stage for the reconciliation of the Capulets and Montagues over the dead bodies of their children, who are the victims of their hatred. For date, see on i. 4. 105 above.

237. Siege. Cf. the same image in i. 1. 209.

237. Siege. See the same image in i. 1. 209.

238. Perforce. By force, against her will; as in C. of E. iv. 3. 95, Rich. II. ii. 3. 121, etc.

238. Perforce. By pressure, without her consent; as in C. of E. iv. 3. 95, Rich. II. ii. 3. 121, etc.

241. Marriage. A trisyllable. See on iv. 1. 11 above, and cf. 265 below.

241. Marriage. A three-syllable word. See on iv. 1. 11 above, and cf. 265 below.

247. As this dire night. This redundant use of as in statements[Pg 273] of time is not uncommon. Cf. J.C. v. 1. 72: "as this very day was Cassius born," etc.

247. As this dire night. This repetitive use of as in time-related statements is pretty common. See J.C. v. 1. 72: "as this very day was Cassius born," etc. [Pg 273]

253. Hour. A dissyllable; as in iii. 1. 198 above.

253. Hour. A two-syllable word; as in iii. 1. 198 above.

257. Some minute. We should now say "some minutes," which is Hanmer's reading. Cf. "some hour" in 268 below.

257. Some minute. We should now say "a few minutes," which is Hanmer's version. See "an hour" in 268 below.

258. Untimely. For the adverbial use, see on iii. 1. 121 above.

258. Untimely. For the adverbial use, see on iii. 1. 121 above.

270. Still. Always. See on 106 above.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Always. See 106 above.

273. In post. In haste, or "post-haste." Cf. v. 1. 21 above. We find "in all post" in Rich. III. iii. 5. 73, and "all in post" in R. of L. 1.

273. In post. In a rush, or "super fast." See v. 1. 21 above. We see "in all post" in Rich. III. iii. 5. 73, and "all in post" in R. of L. 1.

276. Going in. See on v. 1. 36 above.

276. Going in. Refer to v. 1. 36 above.

280. What made your master? What was your master doing? Cf. A. Y. L. i. 1. 3, ii. 3. 4, etc.

280. What made your master? What was your boss up to? Cf. A. Y. L. i. 1. 3, ii. 3. 4, etc.

284. By and by. Presently. See on ii. 2. 151 above.

284. By and by. Right now. See on ii. 2. 151 above.

289. Pothecary. Generally printed "'pothecary" in the modern eds., but not in the early ones. It was a common form of the word. Cf. Chaucer, Pardoneres Tale:—

289. Pothecary. Usually printed as "'apothecary" in the modern editions, but not in the earlier ones. This was a common way to spell the word. See Chaucer, Pardoner's Tale:—

"And forth he goth, no longer wold he tary,
Into the toun unto a potecary."

Therewithal. Therewith, with it. Cf. T.G. of V. iv. 4. 90:—

Therewithal. Therewith, with it. See T.G. of V. iv. 4. 90:—

"Well, give her that ring and therewithal
This letter," etc.

291. Be. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 111, v. 1. 107, etc.

291. Be. See Ham. iii. 2. 111, v. 1. 107, etc.

295. A brace of kinsmen. Mercutio and Paris. For the former, see iii. 1. 112; and for the latter, iii. 5. 179 and v. 3. 75. Steevens remarks that brace as applied to men is generally contemptuous; as in Temp. v. 1. 126: "But you, my brace of lords," etc. As a parallel to the present passage, cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 175: "You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither!"

295. A brace of kinsmen. Mercutio and Paris. For the former, see iii. 1. 112; and for the latter, iii. 5. 179 and v. 3. 75. Steevens notes that brace when referring to men is usually disrespectful; as in Temp. v. 1. 126: "But you, my brace of lords," etc. For a similar example to this passage, see T. and C. iv. 5. 175: "You brace of warlike brothers, welcome here!"

305. Glooming. Used by S. only here. Steevens cites Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1578: "If either he gaspeth or gloometh." Cf. Spenser, F.Q. i. 14: "A little glooming light, much like a[Pg 274] shade." Young uses the verb in his Night Thoughts, ii.: "A night that glooms us in the noontide ray."

305. Glooming. Used by S. only here. Steevens cites Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1578: "If either he gasps or looks gloomy." Cf. Spenser, F.Q. i. 14: "A little gloomy light, much like a[Pg 274] shade." Young uses the verb in his Night Thoughts, ii.: "A night that makes us feel gloomy in the midday sun."

308. Some shall be pardoned, etc. In the novel, Juliet's attendant is banished for concealing the marriage; Romeo's servant set at liberty because he had acted under his master's orders; the apothecary tortured and hanged; and Friar Laurence permitted to retire to a hermitage, where he dies five years later.

308. Some shall be pardoned, etc. In the novel, Juliet's nurse is exiled for hiding the marriage; Romeo's servant is freed because he followed his master's orders; the apothecary is tortured and executed; and Friar Laurence is allowed to go live in a hermitage, where he dies five years later.


APPENDIX

Concerning Arthur Brooke

About Arthur Brooke

Little is known of the life of Arthur Broke, or Brooke, except that he wrote Romeus and Juliet (1562) and the next year published a book entitled Agreement of Sundry Places of Scripture, seeming in shew to jarre, serving in stead of Commentaryes not only for these, but others lyke; a translation from the French. He died that same year (1563), and an Epitaph by George Turbervile (printed in a volume of his poems, 1567) "on the death of maister Arthur Brooke" informs us that he was "drowned in passing to Newhaven."

Little is known about the life of Arthur Broke, or Brooke, except that he wrote Romeus and Juliet (1562) and the following year published a book titled Agreement of Sundry Places of Scripture, seeming in shew to jarre, serving in stead of Commentaryes not only for these, but others lyke; a translation from French. He died that same year (1563), and an Epitaph by George Turbervile (printed in a collection of his poems, 1567) "on the death of maister Arthur Brooke" tells us that he was "drowned in passing to Newhaven."

So far as I am aware, no editor or commentator has referred to the singular prose introduction to the 1562 edition of Romeus and Juliet. It is clear from internal evidence that it was written by Brooke, and it is signed "Ar. Br."—the form in which his name also appears on the title-page; but its tone and spirit are strangely unlike those of the poem. We have seen (p. 25 above) that he refers to the perpetuation of "the memory of so perfect, sound, and so approved love" by the "stately tomb" of Romeo and Juliet, with "great store of cunning epitaphs in honour of their death;" but in the introduction he expresses a very different opinion of the lovers and finds a very different lesson in their fate. He says: "To this end (good Reader) is this tragical matter written, to describe unto thee a couple of unfortunate lovers, thralling themselves to unhonest desire, neglecting the authority and advice of parents and friends, conferring their principal counsels with drunken gossips and superstitious friars (the naturally fit instruments of unchastity), attempting all adventures of peril for the[Pg 276] attaining of their wicked lusts, using auricular confession (the key of whoredom and treason) for furtherance of their purpose, abusing the honourable name of lawful marriage to cloak the shame of stolen contracts; finally, by all means of unhonest life, hasting to most unhappy death." The suggestion is added that parents may do well to show the poem to their children with "the intent to raise in them an hateful loathing of so filthy beastliness."

As far as I know, no editor or commentator has mentioned the unique prose introduction to the 1562 edition of Romeus and Juliet. It's clear from the text that it was written by Brooke, and it's signed "Ar. Br."—the same way his name appears on the title page; however, its tone and spirit are oddly different from those of the poem. We've seen (p. 25 above) that he talks about keeping "the memory of so perfect, sound, and so approved love" alive through the "stately tomb" of Romeo and Juliet, with "great store of cunning epitaphs in honour of their death"; but in the introduction, he shares a very different view of the lovers and draws a different lesson from their fate. He states: "To this end (good Reader) is this tragical matter written, to describe to you a pair of unfortunate lovers, enslaving themselves to dishonest desire, ignoring the authority and advice of parents and friends, getting their main advice from drunken gossips and superstitious friars (who are naturally suited to promote unchastity), risking everything for the sake of their wicked desires, using confession (the key to promiscuity and betrayal) to advance their agenda, abusing the respectable name of lawful marriage to hide the shame of illicit contracts; ultimately, by all means of dishonorable life, rushing toward the most unhappy death." He adds that parents might do well to show the poem to their children with "the intent to raise in them a hateful loathing of so filthy beastliness."

It is curious that there is not the slightest hint of all this anywhere in the poem; not a suggestion that the love of Romeo and Juliet is not natural and pure and honest; not a word of reproach for the course of Friar Laurence. Even the picture of the Nurse, with her vulgarity and unscrupulousness, is drawn with a kind of humour.

It’s interesting that there’s no indication of any of this in the poem; not a hint that Romeo and Juliet’s love isn’t natural, pure, and honest; not a single word criticizing Friar Laurence’s actions. Even the portrayal of the Nurse, with her crudeness and lack of morals, is depicted with a sense of humor.

I have quoted above (note on ii. 2. 142) what Brooke makes Juliet say to her lover in the balcony scene. In their first interview, she says:—

I have quoted above (note on ii. 2. 142) what Brooke has Juliet say to her lover in the balcony scene. In their first conversation, she says:—

"You are no more your owne (deare frend) then I am yours
(My honor saved) prest tobay [to obey] your will while life endures.
Lo here the lucky lot that sild [seldom] true lovers finde:
Eche takes away the others hart, and leaves the owne behinde.
A happy life is love if God graunt from above
That hart with hart by even waight doo make exchaunge of love."

And Romeo has just said:—

And Romeo just said:—

"For I of God woulde crave, as pryse of paynes forpast,
To serve, obey, and honor you so long as lyfe shall last."

Of the Friar the poet says:—

Of the Friar, the poet says:—

"This barefoote fryer gyrt with cord his grayish weede,
For he of Frauncis order was, a fryer as I reede.
Not as the most was he, a grosse unlearned foole:
But doctor of divinitie proceeded he in schoole.
*          *          *          *          *          *          *
The bounty of the fryer and wisdom hath so woune
The townes folks harts that welnigh all to fryer Lawrence ronne.
[Pg 277]
To shrive them selfe the olde, the yong, the great and small:
Of all he is beloved well and honord much of all.
And for he did the rest in wisdome farre exceede
The prince by him (his counsell cravde) was holpe at time of neede.
Betwixt the Capilets and him great frendship grew:
A secret and assured frend unto the Montegue."

At the end of the tragic story the poet asks:—

At the end of the tragic story, the poet asks:—

"But now what shall betyde of this gray-bearded syre?
Of fryer Lawrence thus araynde, that good barefooted fryre?
Because that many times he woorthely did serve
The commen welth, and in his lyfe was never found to swerve,
He was discharged quyte, and no marke of defame
Did seeme to blot or touch at all the honor of his name.
But of him selfe he went into an Hermitage,
Two myles from Veron towne, where he in prayers past forth his age;
Till that from earth to heaven his heavenly sprite dyd flye:
Fyve yeres he lived an Hermite, and an Hermite dyd he dye."

The puzzling prose preface to the poem is followed, in the original edition, by another in verse, similarly headed "To the Reader," from which we learn that Brooke had written other poems, which with this he compares to unlicked whelps—"nought els but lumpes of fleshe withouten heare" (hair)—but this poem, he says, is "the eldest of them" and his "youthfull woorke." He has decided to publish it, but "The rest (unlickt as yet) a whyle shall lurke" (that is, in manuscript)—

The confusing prose preface to the poem is followed, in the original edition, by another one in verse, also titled "To the Reader," from which we learn that Brooke had written other poems, which he compares to untrained puppies—“nothing but lumps of flesh without any hair”—but this poem, he says, is “the oldest of them” and his “youthful work.” He has decided to publish it, but “The rest (still untrained) will stay hidden for a while” (that is, in manuscript)—

"Till tyme give strength to meete and match in fight
With slaunders whelpes."

I suspect that after this poem was written he had become a Puritan,—or more rigid in his Puritanism,—but nevertheless lusted after literary fame and could not resist the temptation to publish the "youthfull woorke." But after writing the verse prologue it occurred to him—or some of his godly friends may have admonished him—that the character of the story and the manner in which[Pg 278] he had treated it, needed further apology or justification; and the prose preface was written to serve as a kind of "moral" to the production. After the suggestion to parents quoted above he adds: "Hereunto if you applye it, ye shall deliver my dooing from offence, and profit your selves. Though I saw the same argument lately set foorth on stage with more commendation then I can looke for (being there much better set forth then I have or can dooe) yet the same matter penned as it is, may serve to lyke good effect, if the readers do brynge with them lyke good myndes, to consider it, which hath the more incouraged me to publishe it, such as it is."

I suspect that after this poem was written, he had become a Puritan—or more strict in his Puritanism—but still craved literary fame and couldn't resist the temptation to publish his "youthful work." However, after writing the verse prologue, he realized—or some of his pious friends might have warned him—that the nature of the story and the way he had handled it needed more apology or justification; so he wrote the prose preface as a sort of "moral" for the piece. After the suggestion to parents mentioned above, he adds: "If you apply this, you will deliver my work from offense, and benefit yourselves. Although I recently saw the same subject presented on stage with more acclaim than I can expect (as it was much better done there than I have or can do), the same material written as it is may still have a good effect if the readers approach it with good intentions, which encourages me even more to publish it, just as it is."

The reader may be surprised that Brooke refers to having seen the story "on stage;" but the Puritans did not altogether disapprove of plays that had a moral purpose. It will be remembered that Stephen Gosson, in his Schoole of Abuse (1579), excepts a few plays from the sweeping condemnation of his "plesaunt invective against Poets, Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like caterpillers of a Commonwelth"—among them being "The Jew,... representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and the bloody minds of usurers," which may have anticipated Shakespeare in combining the stories of the caskets and the pound of flesh in The Merchant of Venice.

The reader might be surprised that Brooke talks about having seen the story "on stage," but the Puritans didn’t completely oppose plays with a moral message. It's worth noting that Stephen Gosson, in his Schoole of Abuse (1579), excludes a few plays from his broad criticism of his "pleasant invective against Poets, Pipers, Players, Jesters, and such like pests of a Commonwealth"—including "The Jew,... which depicts the greed of worldly choosers and the ruthless nature of usurers," which may have foreshadowed Shakespeare by merging the tales of the caskets and the pound of flesh in The Merchant of Venice.

That Brooke was a Puritan we may infer from the religious character of the only other book (mentioned above) which he is known to have published. His death the same year probably prevented his carrying out the intention of licking the rest of his poetical progeny into shape for print.

That Brooke was a Puritan can be inferred from the religious nature of the only other book (mentioned above) that he is known to have published. His death that same year likely stopped him from fulfilling his intention of getting the rest of his poetic works ready for publication.


Thoughts on a Few of the Characters

Juliet.—Juliet is not fortunate in her parents. Her father is sixty or more years old (as we may infer from what he says in i. 5. 29 fol.), while her mother is about twenty-eight (see i. 3. 50), and must have been married when she was half that age. Her assertion that Juliet was born when she herself was "much upon[Pg 279] these years" of her daughter (who will be fourteen in about a fortnight, as the Nurse informs us in the same scene) is somewhat indefinite, but must be within a year or two of the exact figure. Her marriage was evidently a worldly one, arranged by her parents with little or no regard for her own feelings, much as she and her husband propose to marry Juliet to Paris.

Juliet.—Juliet isn’t lucky with her parents. Her dad is sixty or older (as we can guess from what he says in i. 5. 29 fol.), while her mom is around twenty-eight (see i. 3. 50), and she must have been married when she was about half that age. Her claim that Juliet was born when she was "much upon[Pg 279] these years" of her daughter (who will turn fourteen in about two weeks, as the Nurse tells us in the same scene) is a bit vague, but it must be pretty close to the actual age. Her marriage was clearly a practical one, arranged by her parents with little or no consideration for her feelings, just like she and her husband plan to marry Juliet off to Paris.

We may infer that Capulet had not been married before, though, as he himself intimates and the lady declares (iv. 4. 11 fol.), he had been a "mouse-hunt" (given to flirtation and intrigue) in his bachelor days; and she thinks that he needs "watching" even now, lest he give her occasion for jealousy.

We can assume that Capulet had never been married before, but as he hints and the lady states (iv. 4. 11 fol.), he was a "mouse-hunt" (someone who flirted and got involved in romantic intrigues) when he was single; and she believes he still needs to be "watched" even now, in case he gives her a reason to feel jealous.

Neither father nor mother seems to have any marked affection for Juliet, or any interest in her welfare except to get her off their hands by what, from their point of view, is a desirable marriage. Capulet says (iii. 5. 175):—

Neither father nor mother seems to show much affection for Juliet, or any real concern for her well-being, aside from wanting to get her married off in a way that they think is advantageous. Capulet says (iii. 5. 175):—

"God's bread! it makes me mad! Day, night, late, early,
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man,—
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'"

It is more than he can endure; and his wife, when Juliet begs her to interpose and "delay the marriage for a month, a week," refuses to "speak a word" in opposition to his determination to let her "die in the streets" if she does not marry Paris that very week. "Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee," the Lady adds, and leaves the hapless girl to her despair. A moment before she had said, "I would the fool were married to her grave!"

It’s more than he can take; and when Juliet asks her wife to step in and "postpone the marriage for a month, a week," she refuses to "say a word" against his decision to let her "die in the streets" if she doesn’t marry Paris that very week. "Do what you want, because I’m done with you," the Lady adds, leaving the unfortunate girl in her despair. Just a moment earlier, she had said, "I wish the fool were married to her grave!"

Earlier in the play (i. 2. 16) Capulet has said to Paris:—

Earlier in the play (i. 2. 16) Capulet has said to Paris:—

"But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree, within her scope of choice,
Lies my consent and fair according voice;"—

but from the context we see that this is merely a plausible excuse for not giving the count a definite answer just then. The girl, he says, is "yet a stranger in the world" (has not yet "come out," in modern parlance), and it is best to wait a year or two:—

but from the context we see that this is just a believable excuse for not giving the count a clear answer right then. The girl, he says, is "still a stranger in the world" (has not yet "come out," in today's terms), and it's best to wait a year or two:—

"Let two more summers wither in their pride
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride."

He sees no reason for haste; but later, influenced by the noble wooer's importunities and the persuasions of his wife, who has favoured an early marriage from the first (i. 3), he takes a different tone (iii. 4. 12):—

He sees no reason to rush; but later, swayed by the noble suitor’s insistence and his wife’s encouragement, who has been in favor of an early marriage from the beginning (i. 3), he changes his approach (iii. 4. 12):—

"Capulet. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd
In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.—
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love,
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next—
But, soft! what day is this?
Paris. Monday, my lord.
Capulet. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.
O' Thursday let it be; o' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl."

"She shall be married," and the day is fixed. Already he calls Paris "my son." No question now of delay, and getting her "consent" as a condition of securing his own!

"She will be married," and the date is set. He already refers to Paris as "my son." There’s no question of postponement now or needing her "consent" to secure his own!

At the supposed sudden death of their daughter the parents naturally feel some genuine grief; but their conventional wailing (iv. 5) belongs to the earlier version of the play, and it is significant that Shakespeare let it stand when revising his work some[Pg 281] years afterwards. As Tieck remarks, it "had not the true tragic ring"—and why should it?

At the unexpected death of their daughter, the parents understandably experience real sorrow; however, their traditional mourning (iv. 5) is from an earlier draft of the play, and it's noteworthy that Shakespeare kept it in when he revised his work some[Pg 281] years later. As Tieck points out, it "didn't have the true tragic feel"—but why should it?

Most of the critics have assumed that Shakespeare makes Juliet only fourteen, because of her Italian birth; but in the original Italian versions of the story she is eighteen, and Brooke makes her sixteen. All of Shakespeare's other youthful heroines whose ages are definitely stated or indicated are very young. Miranda, in The Tempest, is barely fifteen, as she has been "twelve year" on the enchanted island and was "not out [full] three years old" when her father was driven from Milan. Marina, in Pericles, is only fifteen at the end of the play; and Perdita only sixteen, as we learn from the prologue to act iv. of The Winter's Tale.

Most critics believe that Shakespeare makes Juliet only fourteen because she’s Italian; however, in the original Italian versions of the story, she’s eighteen, and Brooke makes her sixteen. All of Shakespeare’s other young female characters whose ages are clearly stated or implied are quite young. Miranda, in The Tempest, is only fifteen, having spent "twelve years" on the enchanted island and was "not yet [full] three years old" when her father was banished from Milan. Marina, in Pericles, is only fifteen by the end of the play; and Perdita is just sixteen, as we find out from the prologue to Act IV of The Winter's Tale.

In Juliet's case, I believe that the youthfulness was an essential element in Shakespeare's conception of the character. With the parents and the Nurse he has given her, she could only have been, at the opening of the play, the mere girl he makes her. She must be too young to have discovered the real character of her father and mother, and to have been chilled and hardened by learning how unlike they were to the ideals of her childhood. She must not have come to comprehend fully the low coarse nature of the Nurse, her foster-mother. The poet would not have dared to leave the maiden under the influence of that gross creature till she was eighteen, or even sixteen. As it is, she has not been harmed by the prurient vulgarity of the garrulous dame. She never shows any interest in it, or seems even to notice it. When her mother first refers to the suit of Paris (i. 3) we see that no thought of love or marriage has ever occurred to her, and the glowing description of a noble and wealthy young wooer does not excite her imagination in the least. Her only response to all that the Lady and the Nurse have urged in praise of Paris is coldly acquiescent:—

In Juliet's case, I think her youth is a crucial part of how Shakespeare created the character. Given the parents and the Nurse he wrote for her, she could only be, at the start of the play, the naive girl he portrays. She's too young to have realized the true nature of her father and mother, and she hasn’t yet been affected by discovering how different they are from the ideals of her childhood. She hasn’t fully grasped the crude character of the Nurse, her caretaker. Shakespeare wouldn't have let her remain under the influence of that coarse woman until she was eighteen, or even sixteen. As it stands, she hasn't been influenced by the lewd vulgarity of the talkative Nurse. She never shows any interest in it, nor does it seem to even register with her. When her mother first mentions Paris's proposal (i. 3), it's clear that the idea of love or marriage has never crossed her mind, and the enthusiastic description of a noble and wealthy suitor doesn't spark her imagination at all. Her only reaction to everything the Lady and the Nurse have praised about Paris is a cold acceptance:—

"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."

The playful manner in which Juliet receives the advances of Romeo (i. 5. 95-109) is thoroughly girlish, though we must note that his first speech, as given in the play ("If I profane," etc.), is not the beginning of their conversation, which has been going on while Capulet and Tybalt were talking. This is the first and the last glimpse that we get of her bright young sportiveness. With the kiss that ends the pretty quibbling the girl learns what love means, and the larger life of womanhood begins.

The way Juliet playfully responds to Romeo's advances (i. 5. 95-109) is very youthful and feminine, but it's important to remember that his first line in the play ("If I profane," etc.) isn't where their conversation starts; they’ve been chatting while Capulet and Tybalt were talking. This moment gives us the first and last glimpse of her lively and playful spirit. With the kiss that wraps up their playful banter, she discovers what love is, and her journey into womanhood begins.

The "balcony scene" (ii. 2)—the most exquisite love scene ever written—is in perfect keeping with the poet's conception of Juliet as little more than a child—still childlike in the expression of the new love that is making her a woman. Hence the absolute frankness in her avowal of that love—an ideal love in which passion and purity are perfectly interfused. There is not a suggestion of sensuality on Romeo's part any more than on hers. When he asks, "O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" it is only the half-involuntary utterance of the man's impatience—so natural to the man—that the full fruition of his love must be delayed. Juliet knows that it involves no base suggestion, and a touch of tender sympathy and pity is mingled with the maiden wisdom of the innocent response, "What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?"

The "balcony scene" (ii. 2)—the most beautiful love scene ever written—perfectly aligns with the poet's view of Juliet as little more than a child—still innocent in expressing the new love that is transitioning her into womanhood. This is reflected in her open declaration of love—an ideal love where passion and purity blend seamlessly. There’s no hint of sensuality from Romeo any more than from her. When he asks, "O, will you leave me so unsatisfied?" it’s just a moment of frustration on his part—something completely natural for him—that the full expression of his love must be postponed. Juliet understands that there’s no inappropriate implication in his words, and her innocent response carries a touch of gentle sympathy and understanding: "What satisfaction can you have tonight?"

Lady Martin (Helena Faucit), who has played the part of Juliet with rare power and grace, and has written about it no less admirably, remarks on this scene: "Women are deeply in debt to Shakespeare for all the lovely and noble things he has put into his women's hearts and mouths, but surely for nothing more than for the words in which Juliet's reply [to Romeo, when he has overheard her soliloquy in the balcony] is couched. Only one who knew of what a true woman is capable, in frankness, in courage, and self-surrender when her heart is possessed by a noble love, could have touched with such delicacy, such infinite charm of mingled reserve and artless frankness, the avowal of so fervent, yet so modest a love, the secret of which had been so strangely stolen from her. As the whole scene is the noblest pæan to Love ever[Pg 283] written, so is what Juliet says supreme in subtlety of feeling and expression, where all is beautiful. Watch all the fluctuations of emotion which pervade it, ... the generous frankness of the giving, the timid drawing back, fearful of having given too much unsought; the perplexity of the whole, all summed up in that sweet entreaty for pardon with which it closes."

Lady Martin (Helena Faucit), who has portrayed Juliet with remarkable power and elegance, and has written about it equally well, comments on this scene: "Women owe a great deal to Shakespeare for all the beautiful and noble things he’s put into the hearts and words of his female characters, but surely nothing is more significant than Juliet's response [to Romeo, when he overhears her soliloquy on the balcony]. Only someone who understood what a true woman is capable of—her honesty, courage, and willingness to surrender when she is truly in love—could have captured with such sensitivity, such endless charm of mixed restraint and straightforward honesty, the expression of such passionate, yet modest, love, the secret of which had been so surprisingly revealed to her. Just as the entire scene is the greatest tribute to Love ever written, Juliet's words stand out for their subtlety of emotion and expression, where everything is beautiful. Observe the waves of emotion that flow through it: the generous openness of sharing, the shy retreat, afraid of having given too much without being asked; the confusion of the whole, all wrapped up in that sweet plea for forgiveness with which it concludes."

Juliet's soliloquy in iii. 3 is no less remarkable for its chaste and reverent dealing with a situation even more perilous for the dramatist. We must not forget that it is a soliloquy, "breathed out in the silence and solitude of her chamber," as Mrs. Jameson reminds us; or, we may say, not so much as breathed out, but only thought and felt, unuttered even when no one could have heard it. As spoken to a theatrical audience, it is only to a sympathetic listener who appreciates the situation that it can have its true effect, and one feels almost guilty and ashamed at having intruded upon the sacred privacy of the maiden meditation. Even to comment upon it seems like profanity.

Juliet's soliloquy in iii. 3 is just as remarkable for its pure and respectful approach to a situation that's even more dangerous for the playwright. We must remember that it is a soliloquy, "released in the silence and solitude of her room," as Mrs. Jameson points out; or rather, we could say it’s not so much released as it is thought and felt, unspoken even when no one could hear it. When performed for an audience, its true impact can only be felt by a sympathetic listener who understands the situation, and one feels almost guilty and embarrassed for having intruded upon the sacred privacy of her thoughts. Even discussing it feels like sacrilege.

Here, as in the balcony scene, Juliet is simply the "impatient child" to whom she compares herself, looking forward with mingled innocence and eagerness to the fruition of the "tender wishes blossoming at night" that inspire the soliloquy.

Here, as in the balcony scene, Juliet is just the "impatient child" she compares herself to, eagerly and innocently looking forward to the fulfillment of the "tender wishes blossoming at night" that inspire the soliloquy.

In one of Romeo's speeches in the interview with Friar Laurence after the death of Tybalt (iii. 3), there is a delicate tribute to the girlish purity and timidity of Juliet, though it occurs in a connection so repellent to our taste that we may fail to note it. This is the passage:—

In one of Romeo's speeches during the conversation with Friar Laurence after Tybalt's death (iii. 3), there's a subtle tribute to Juliet's innocent purity and shyness, even though it appears in a context that some might find off-putting, so we might overlook it. This is the passage:—

heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion-flies than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
[Pg 284]
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin:
But Romeo may not, he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
They are free men, but I am banished."

This is unquestionably from the earliest draft of the play, and is a specimen of the most intolerable class of Elizabethan conceits. As another has said, "Perhaps the worst line that Shakespeare or any other poet ever wrote, is the dreadful one where Romeo, in the very height of his passionate despair, says, 'This may flies do, but I from this must fly.'" It comes in "with an obtrusive incongruity which absolutely makes one shudder." The allusion to the "carrion flies" is bad enough, but the added pun on fly, which makes the allusion appear deliberate and elaborate rather than an unfortunate lapse due to the excitement of the moment, forbids any attempt to excuse or palliate it. But we must not overlook the exquisite reference to Juliet's lips, that—

This is definitely from the earliest draft of the play and serves as an example of the most annoying type of Elizabethan conceits. As someone else has mentioned, "Perhaps the worst line that Shakespeare or any other poet ever wrote is the terrible one where Romeo, in the depths of his passionate despair, says, 'This may flies do, but I from this must fly'." It comes in with an obvious awkwardness that truly makes one shudder. The mention of "carrion flies" is bad enough, but the extra pun on fly, which makes the reference seem intentional and intricate rather than just a slip caused by the moment's intensity, prevents any effort to excuse or soften it. However, we must not overlook the beautiful mention of Juliet's lips, that—

"even in pure and vestal modesty
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin."

There we have the true Juliet—the Juliet whose maiden modesty and innocence certain critics (in their comments upon the soliloquy in iii. 3) have been too gross to comprehend. It is to Romeo's honour that he can understand and feel it even when recalling the passionate exchange of conjugal kisses.

There we have the real Juliet—the Juliet whose youthful modesty and innocence some critics (in their comments on the soliloquy in iii. 3) have failed to appreciate. It speaks to Romeo's character that he can understand and feel it, even while remembering the passionate exchange of married kisses.

The scene (iv. 3) in which Juliet drinks the potion has been misinterpreted by some of the best critics. Coleridge says that she "swallows the draught in a fit of fright," for it would have been "too bold a thing" for a girl of fourteen to have done it otherwise. Mrs. Jameson says that, "gradually and most naturally, in such a mind once thrown off its poise, the horror rises to frenzy,—her imagination realizes its own hideous creations,"—that is, after picturing all the possible horrors of the tomb, she sees, or believes she[Pg 285] sees, the ghost of Tybalt, and drinks the potion in the frenzied apprehension the vision excites. On the contrary, as George Fletcher remarks, "the very clearness and completeness with which her mind embraces her present position make her pass in lucid review, and in the most natural and logical sequence, the several dismal contingencies that await her"—thus leading up, "step by step, to this climax of the accumulated horrors, not which she may, but which she must encounter, if she wake before the calculated moment. This pressure on her brain, crowned by the vivid apprehension of anticipated frenzy, does, indeed, amid her dim and silent loneliness, produce a momentary hallucination [of Tybalt's ghost], but she instantly recovers herself, recognizes the illusion, ... embraces the one chance of earthly reunion with her lord—'Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee!'"

The scene (iv. 3) where Juliet drinks the potion has been misunderstood by some of the best critics. Coleridge says she "swallows the draught in a fit of fright," believing it would have been "too bold a thing" for a girl of fourteen to do otherwise. Mrs. Jameson notes that "gradually and most naturally, in such a mind once thrown off its poise, the horror rises to frenzy,—her imagination realizes its own hideous creations," meaning that after imagining all the possible terrors of the tomb, she sees, or believes she [Pg 285] sees, the ghost of Tybalt, and drinks the potion in the frenzied fear that the vision stirs up. In contrast, as George Fletcher points out, "the very clearness and completeness with which her mind embraces her present position make her go through in clear review, and in the most natural and logical order, the various grim possibilities that await her"—thus leading up, "step by step, to this climax of the accumulated horrors, not which she may, but which she must face if she wakes before the planned moment. This pressure on her mind, combined with the vivid anticipation of expected frenzy, does indeed, amid her dim and silent loneliness, create a brief hallucination [of Tybalt's ghost], but she quickly pulls herself together, recognizes the illusion, ... and embraces the one chance of earthly reunion with her beloved—'Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee!'"

This is substantially Lady Martin's interpretation of the scene, and that which she carried out in action on the stage. She says: "For the moment the great fear gets the better of her great love, and all seems madness. Then in her frenzy of excitement she seems to see Tybalt's figure 'seeking out Romeo.' At the mention of Romeo's name I used to feel all my resolution return. Romeo! She goes to meet him, and what terror shall hold her back? She will pass through the horror of hell itself to reach what lies beyond; and she swallows the potion with his name upon her lips." The lady adds: "What it is to act it I need not tell. What power it demands! and yet what restraint!"

This is basically Lady Martin's take on the scene and how she performed it on stage. She says: "For a moment, her intense fear overshadows her deep love, and everything feels chaotic. Then, in her heightened state of excitement, she seems to see Tybalt's figure 'looking for Romeo.' Just hearing Romeo's name brings all my determination back. Romeo! She goes to meet him, and what fear could possibly stop her? She would go through the very depths of hell to reach what’s beyond; and she takes the potion with his name on her lips." The lady adds: "I don't need to explain what it's like to act it. What power it requires! And yet, what restraint!"

Romeo.—Some critics have expressed surprise that Shakespeare should have preluded the main story of the drama with the "superfluous complication" of Romeo's love for Rosaline. On the other hand, Coleridge considers it "a strong instance of the fineness of his insight into the nature of the passions." He adds: "The necessity of loving creates an object for itself in man and woman; and yet there is a difference in this respect between the sexes, though only to be known by a perception of it. It would have displeased us if Juliet had been represented as already in love,[Pg 286] or as fancying herself so; but no one, I believe, ever experiences any shock at Romeo's forgetting his Rosaline, who had been a mere name for the yearning of his youthful imagination, and rushing into his passion for Juliet." Mrs. Jameson says: "Our impression of Juliet's loveliness and sensibility is enhanced when we find it overcoming in the bosom of Romeo a previous love for another. His visionary passion for the cold, inaccessible Rosaline forms but the prologue, the threshold, to the true, the real sentiment which succeeds to it. This incident, which is found in the original story, has been retained by Shakspeare with equal feeling and judgment; and, far from being a fault in taste and sentiment, far from prejudicing us against Romeo by casting on him, at the outset of the piece, the stigma of inconstancy, it becomes, if properly considered, a beauty in the drama, and adds a fresh stroke of truth to the portrait of the lover. Why, after all, should we be offended at what does not offend Juliet herself? for in the original story we find that her attention is first attracted towards Romeo by seeing him 'fancy-sick and pale of cheer,' for love of a cold beauty."

Romeo.—Some critics are surprised that Shakespeare started the main story of the play with the "unnecessary complication" of Romeo’s love for Rosaline. However, Coleridge sees it as "a strong example of his deep understanding of human emotions." He adds: "The need to love creates an object for itself in both men and women; yet there's a difference between the sexes in this regard, one that can only be understood through perception. It would bother us if Juliet was shown as already being in love,[Pg 286] or thinking she was; but I don’t believe anyone is ever shocked by Romeo forgetting Rosaline, who was merely a name representing the longing of his youthful imagination, and quickly falling in love with Juliet." Mrs. Jameson says: "Our impression of Juliet's beauty and sensitivity is deepened when we see it overcoming Romeo’s previous love for another. His idealistic passion for the distant, unattainable Rosaline is just the prologue, the starting point, to the true, real feelings that follow. This incident, found in the original story, is kept by Shakespeare with equal sensitivity and insight; and instead of being a flaw in taste and emotion, or making us think less of Romeo by marking him as unfaithful from the start, it actually adds a layer of beauty to the play and enhances the realism of the lover's portrait. After all, why should we be upset about something that doesn't bother Juliet herself? In the original tale, she is first drawn to Romeo after seeing him 'sick with love and pale in spirit' for a cold beauty."

The German critic Kreyssig aptly remarks: "We make the acquaintance of Romeo at the critical period of that not dangerous sickness to which youth is liable. It is that 'love lying in the eyes' of early and just blossoming manhood, that humorsome, whimsical 'love in idleness,' that first bewildered, stammering interview of the heart with the scarcely awakened nature. Strangely enough, objections have been made to this 'superfluous complication,' as if, down to this day, every Romeo had not to sigh for some Junonian Rosaline, nay, for half a dozen Rosalines, more or less, before his eyes open upon his Juliet."

The German critic Kreyssig insightfully points out: "We meet Romeo at that critical stage of the harmless affliction youth often faces. It’s that 'love reflected in the eyes' of early and budding manhood, that playful, whimsical 'idle love,' that first confusing, stammering encounter of the heart with barely awakened feelings. Strangely enough, some have criticized this 'unnecessary complication,' as if, even today, every Romeo hasn’t had to long for some Junonian Rosaline, or even a few Rosalines, before he finally sees his Juliet."

Young men of ardent and sentimental nature, as Kreyssig intimates, imagine themselves in love—sometimes again and again—before a genuine passion takes possession of them. As Rosalind expresses it, Cupid may have "clapped them on the shoulder," but, they are really "heart-whole." Such love is like that of the song in The Merchant of Venice:

Young guys who are passionate and emotional, as Kreyssig suggests, think they're in love—sometimes over and over—before they actually feel a true connection. As Rosalind puts it, Cupid may have "tapped them on the shoulder," but they are truly "heart-whole." This kind of love is similar to the one in the song from The Merchant of Venice:

"It is engender'd in the eyes,
By gazing fed, and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies."

It lives only until it is displaced by a healthier, more vigorous love, capable of outgrowing the precarious period of infancy.[8] This is not the only instance of the kind in Shakespeare. Orsino's experience in Twelfth Night is similar to Romeo's. At the beginning of the play he is suffering from unrequited love for Olivia, but later finds his Juliet in Viola.

It lasts only until it's replaced by a stronger, more vibrant love that can move beyond the unstable stage of infatuation.[8] This isn't the only example like this in Shakespeare. Orsino's experience in Twelfth Night is similar to Romeo’s. At the start of the play, he is struggling with unrequited love for Olivia, but later discovers his Juliet in Viola.

Romeo is a very young man—if indeed we may call him a man when we first meet him. We may suppose him to be twenty, but hardly older. He has seen very little of society, as we infer from Benvolio's advising him to go to the masquerade at Capulet's, in order to compare "the admired beauties of Verona" with Rosaline. He had thought her "fair, none else being by." He is hardly less "a stranger in the world" than Juliet himself. Love develops him as it does her, but more slowly.

Romeo is just a very young guy—if we can even call him a guy when we first meet him. He’s probably around twenty, but not much older. He hasn't experienced much of the world, which we can tell from Benvolio's suggestion that he go to the masquerade at Capulet’s to compare "the admired beauties of Verona" with Rosaline. He thought she was "fair, none else being by." He’s almost as much "a stranger in the world" as Juliet is. Love helps him grow, just like it does for her, but at a slower pace.

Contrast the strength of Juliet's new-born heroism in her budding womanhood, when she drinks the potion that is to consign her to the horrors of the charnel-house, with the weakness of Romeo who is ready to kill himself when he learns that he is to be banished from Verona,—an insignificant fate compared with that which threatens her—banishment from home, a beggar in the streets,—the only alternative a criminal marriage that would forever separate her from her lawful husband, or death to escape that guilt and[Pg 288] wretchedness. No wonder that the Friar cannot control his contempt and indignation when Romeo draws his sword:—

Contrast the strength of Juliet's newly found heroism in her emerging womanhood, as she drinks the potion that will send her into the horrors of the tomb, with the weakness of Romeo, who is ready to take his own life when he learns he is to be banished from Verona—a minor fate compared to what threatens her—being forced out of her home, becoming a beggar on the streets—the only other option being a forced marriage that would forever separate her from her rightful husband, or death to escape that guilt and[Pg 288] misery. No wonder the Friar can't hide his contempt and anger when Romeo draws his sword:—

"Hold thy desperate hand!
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast,
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me; by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady too that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
*          *          *          *          *
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too.
The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable."

He has the form of a man, but talks and acts like a weak girl, while the girl of fourteen whom he loves—a child three days before, we might say—now shows a self-control and fortitude worthy of a man.

He looks like a man, but he speaks and behaves like a weak girl, while the girl he loves, who just turned fourteen—really just a child a few days ago—now displays a level of self-control and strength that's impressive for a man.

Romeo does not attain to true manhood until he receives the tidings of Juliet's supposed death. "Now, for the first time," as Dowden says, "he is completely delivered from the life of dream, completely adult, and able to act with an initiative in his own will, and with manly determination. Accordingly, he now speaks with[Pg 289] masculine directness and energy: 'Is it even so? Then I defy you, stars!' Yes; he is now master of events; the stars cannot alter his course. 'Nothing,' as Maginn has observed, 'can be more quiet than his final determination, "Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to night." ... It is plain Juliet. His mind is made up; the whole course of the short remainder of his life so unalterably fixed that it is perfectly useless to think more about it.' These words, because they are the simplest, are amongst the most memorable that Romeo utters. Now passion, imagination, and will are fused together, and Romeo who was weak has at length become strong."

Romeo doesn't achieve true manhood until he learns about Juliet's supposed death. "Now, for the first time," as Dowden puts it, "he is fully freed from a dreamy existence, completely grown up, and able to act with his own will and determination. As a result, he now speaks with[Pg 289]masculine clarity and energy: 'Is it really so? Then I defy you, stars!' Yes; he now controls the events in his life; the stars can't change his path. 'Nothing,' as Maginn noted, 'can be more calm than his final decision, "Well, Juliet, I will lie with you tonight." ... It's clear, Juliet. His mind is made up; the whole remaining part of his life is so firmly decided that it’s pointless to think about it any further.' These words, being the simplest, are among the most memorable that Romeo speaks. Now, passion, imagination, and will are combined, and Romeo, who was once weak, has finally become strong."

Mercutio.—Dryden quotes a traditional saying concerning Mercutio, that if Shakespeare had not killed him, he would have killed Shakespeare. But Shakespeare was never driven to disposing of a personage in that way, because he was unequal to the effort of maintaining the full vigour or brilliancy of the characterization. He did not have to kill off Falstaff, for instance, until he had carried him through three complete plays, and then only because his "occupation," dramatically speaking, "was gone." There was the same reason for killing Mercutio. The dramatist had no further use for him after the quarrel with Tybalt which leads to his death. In both the novel and the poem, Romeo kills Tybalt in a street brawl between the partisans of the rival houses. The dramatic effect of the scene in the play where Romeo avoids being drawn into a conflict with Tybalt until driven to incontrollable grief and wrath by the death of his friend is far more impressive. The self-control and self-restraint of Romeo, in spite of the insults of Tybalt and the disgust of Mercutio at what seems to him "calm, dishonourable, vile submission," show how reluctant the lover of Juliet is to fight with her kinsman. He does his best to restrain his friend from the duel: "Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up—" but to no purpose; nor is his appeal to Benvolio to "beat down their weapons" more successful. He then attempts to do this himself, but the only result is to bring about the death of Mercutio, who exclaims: "Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under[Pg 290] your arm." Poor Romeo can only plead, "I thought all for the best."

Mercutio.—Dryden mentions a saying about Mercutio, that if Shakespeare hadn’t killed him off, he would have ended Shakespeare instead. However, Shakespeare never felt the need to eliminate a character in that way because he couldn’t sustain the full vigor and brilliance of the characterization. He didn’t have to kill off Falstaff, for example, until he had carried him through three entire plays, and even then, it was only because his "occupation," in dramatic terms, "was gone." The same reasoning applied to Mercutio. The playwright had no further use for him after the fight with Tybalt that leads to his death. In both the novel and the poem, Romeo kills Tybalt in a street fight between supporters of the feuding families. The dramatic impact of the scene in the play, where Romeo avoids getting drawn into a conflict with Tybalt until he is consumed by uncontrollable grief and anger over his friend's death, is much more powerful. Romeo’s self-control and restraint, despite Tybalt’s insults and Mercutio’s disdain for what he sees as "calm, dishonorable, vile submission," highlight how reluctant Juliet’s lover is to battle her relative. He tries to hold his friend back from the duel: "Gentle Mercutio, put your rapier away—" but it’s to no avail; nor is his plea to Benvolio to "stop the fight" any more effective. He then tries to intervene himself, but all it accomplishes is Mercutio’s death, as he cries out: "Why the devil did you step between us? I was hurt under[Pg 290] your arm." Poor Romeo can only respond, "I thought I was doing the right thing."

But at this point in the play, when the tragic complication really begins, the dramatist must dismiss Mercutio from the stage, as he does with Falstaff after Prince Hal has become King. Mercutio must not come in contact with Juliet, nor will Romeo himself care to meet him. He is the most foul-mouthed of Shakespeare's characters, the clowns and profligates not excepted. The only instance in Shakespeare's works in which the original editions omit a word from the text is in a speech of Mercutio's; and Pope, who could on occasion be as coarse as any author of that licentious age, felt obliged to drop two of Mercutio's lines from his edition of the dramatist. Fortunately, the majority of the knight's gross allusions are so obscure that they would not be understood nowadays, even by readers quite familiar with the language of the time.

But at this stage in the play, when the tragic conflict truly kicks in, the playwright has to remove Mercutio from the stage, just like he does with Falstaff after Prince Hal becomes king. Mercutio must not interact with Juliet, and Romeo wouldn't want to meet him either. He is the most foul-mouthed of Shakespeare's characters, even surpassing the clowns and wild characters. The only time in Shakespeare's works when the original editions leave out a word from the text is in Mercutio's speech; and Pope, who could sometimes be as crude as any writer from that scandalous era, felt he had to cut two of Mercutio's lines from his edition of the play. Luckily, most of the knight's vulgar references are so obscure that they wouldn't be understood today, even by readers who are quite familiar with the language of that time.

And yet Mercutio is a fellow of excellent fancy—poetical fancy—as the familiar description of Queen Mab amply proves. Critics have picked it to pieces and found fault with some of the details; but there was never a finer mingling of exquisite poetry with keen and sparkling wit. Its imperfections and inconsistencies, if such they be, are in keeping with the character and the situation. It was meant to be a brilliant improvisation, not a carefully elaborated composition. Shakespeare may, indeed, have written the speech as rapidly and carelessly as he makes Mercutio speak it.

And yet Mercutio is a guy with an amazing imagination—poetic imagination—as the well-known description of Queen Mab clearly shows. Critics have analyzed it closely and critiqued some details; but there has never been a better blend of beautiful poetry with sharp and sparkling wit. Any flaws or inconsistencies, if they exist, match the character and the situation. It was intended to be a dazzling improvisation, not a meticulously crafted piece. Shakespeare may have actually written the speech as quickly and casually as Mercutio delivers it.


The Play's Time Analysis

This is summed up by Mr. P.A. Daniel in his valuable paper "On the Times or Durations of the Actions of Shakspere's Plays" (Trans. of New Shaks. Soc. 1877-79, p. 194) as follows:—

This is summed up by Mr. P.A. Daniel in his valuable paper "On the Times or Durations of the Actions of Shakspere's Plays" (Trans. of New Shaks. Soc. 1877-79, p. 194) as follows:—

"Time of this Tragedy, six consecutive days, commencing on the morning of the first, and ending early in the morning of the sixth.

"Duration of this Tragedy, six straight days, starting on the morning of the first day and concluding early on the morning of the sixth."

Day 1. (Sunday) Act I. and Act II. sc. i. and ii.

Day 1. (Sunday) Act I and Act II, scenes i and ii.

  "    2. (Monday) Act II. sc. iii.-vi., Act III. sc. i.-iv.

Day 2. (Monday) Act II, scenes iii-vI, Act III, scenes i-iv.

Day 3. (Tuesday) Act III. sc. v., Act IV. sc. i.-iv.[Pg 291]

Day 3. (Tuesday) Act III, scene v, Act IV, scenes i-iv.[Pg 291]

  "    4. (Wednesday) Act IV. sc. v.

Day 4. (Wednesday) Act IV, scene v.

  "    5. (Thursday) Act V.

Day 5. (Thursday) Act V.

  "    6. (Friday) End of Act V. sc. iii."

Day 6. (Friday) End of Act V, scene iii.

After the above was printed, Dr. Furnivall called Mr. Daniel's attention to my note on page 249 fol. in which I show that the drama may close on Thursday morning instead of Friday. Mr. Daniel was at first disinclined to accept this view, but on second thought was compelled to admit that I was right.

After the above was printed, Dr. Furnivall pointed out my note on page 249 fol. to Mr. Daniel, where I indicate that the drama could end on Thursday morning instead of Friday. Mr. Daniel was initially reluctant to agree with this perspective, but after some consideration, he had to acknowledge that I was correct.


List of Characters in the Play

The numbers in parentheses indicate the lines the characters have in each scene.

The numbers in parentheses show how many lines each character has in every scene.

Escalus: i. 1(23); iii. 1(16); v. 3(36). Whole no. 75.

Escalus: i. 1(23); iii. 1(16); v. 3(36). Whole no. 75.

Paris: i. 2(4); iii. 4(4); iv. 1(23), 5(6); v. 3(32). Whole no. 69.

Paris: i. 2(4); iii. 4(4); iv. 1(23), 5(6); v. 3(32). Whole no. 69.

Montague: i. 1(28); iii. 1(3); v. 3(10). Whole no. 41.

Montague: i. 1(28); iii. 1(3); v. 3(10). Whole no. 41.

Capulet: i. 1(3), 2(33), 5(56); iii. 4(31), 5(63); iv. 2(26), 4(19), 5(28); v. 3(10). Whole no. 269.

Capulet: i. 1(3), 2(33), 5(56); iii. 4(31), 5(63); iv. 2(26), 4(19), 5(28); v. 3(10). Whole no. 269.

2d Capulet: i. 5(3). Whole no. 3.

2d Capulet: i. 5(3). Whole no. 3.

Romeo: i. 1(65), 2(29), 4(34), 5(27); ii. 1(2), 2(86), 3(25), 4(54), 6(12); iii. 1(36), 3(71), 5(24); v. 1(71), 3(82). Whole no. 618.

Romeo: i. 1(65), 2(29), 4(34), 5(27); ii. 1(2), 2(86), 3(25), 4(54), 6(12); iii. 1(36), 3(71), 5(24); v. 1(71), 3(82). Whole no. 618.

Mercutio: i. 4(73); ii. 1(34), 4(95); iii. 1(71). Whole no. 273.

Mercutio: i. 4(73); ii. 1(34), 4(95); iii. 1(71). Whole no. 273.

Benvolio: i. 1(51), 2(20), 4(13). 5(1); ii. 1(9). 4(14); iii. 1(53). Whole no. 161.

Benvolio: i. 1(51), 2(20), 4(13). 5(1); ii. 1(9). 4(14); iii. 1(53). Total no. 161.

Tybalt: i. 1(5), 5(17); iii. 1(14). Whole no. 36.

Tybalt: i. 1(5), 5(17); iii. 1(14). Whole no. 36.

Friar Laurence: ii. 3(72), 6(18); iii. 3(87); iv. 1(56), 5(25); v. 2(17), 3(75). Whole no. 350.

Friar Laurence: ii. 3(72), 6(18); iii. 3(87); iv. 1(56), 5(25); v. 2(17), 3(75). Whole no. 350.

Friar John: v. 2(13). Whole no. 13.

Friar John: v. 2(13). Whole no. 13.

Balthasar: v. 1(11), 3(21). Whole no. 32.

Balthasar: v. 1(11), 3(21). Total number 32.

Sampson: i. 1(41). Whole no. 41.

Sampson: i. 1(41). Whole no. 41.

Gregory: i. 1(24). Whole no. 24.

Gregory: i. 1(24). Whole no. 24.

Peter: iii. 4(7); iv. 5(30). Whole no. 37

Peter: iii. 4(7); iv. 5(30). Whole no. 37

Abram: i. 1(5). Whole no. 5.

Abram: i. 1(5). Whole no. 5.

Apothecary: v. 1(7). Whole no. 7.

Apothecary: v. 1(7). Whole no. 7.

1st Musician: iv. 5(16). Whole no. 16.

1st Musician: iv. 5(16). Whole no. 16.

2d Musician: iv. 5(6). Whole no. 6.

2d Musician: iv. 5(6). Whole no. 6.

3d Musician: iv. 5(1). Whole no. 1.

3d Musician: iv. 5(1). Whole no. 1.

1st Servant: i. 2(21), 3(5), 5(11); iv. 4(1). Whole no. 38.

1st Servant: i. 2(21), 3(5), 5(11); iv. 4(1). Whole no. 38.

2d Servant: i. 5(7); iv. 2(5), 4(2). Whole no. 14.

2d Servant: i. 5(7); iv. 2(5), 4(2). Whole no. 14.

1st Watchman: v. 3(19). Whole no. 19.

1st Watchman: v. 3(19). Whole no. 19.

2d Watchman: v. 3(1). Whole no. 1.

2d Watchman: v. 3(1). Whole no. 1.

3d Watchman: v. 3(3). Whole no. 3.

3d Watchman: v. 3(3). Total no. 3.

1st Citizen: i. 1(2); iii. 1(4). Whole no. 6.

1st Citizen: i. 1(2); iii. 1(4). Whole no. 6.

Page: v. 3(9). Whole no. 9.

Page: v. 3(9). Whole no. 9.

Lady Montague: i. 1(3). Whole no. 3.

Lady Montague: i. 1(3). Whole no. 3.

Lady Capulet: i. 1(1), 3(36), 5(1); iii. 1(11), 4(2), 5(37); iv. 2(3), 3(3), 4(3), 5(13); v. 3(5). Whole no. 115.

Lady Capulet: i. 1(1), 3(36), 5(1); iii. 1(11), 4(2), 5(37); iv. 2(3), 3(3), 4(3), 5(13); v. 3(5). Whole no. 115.

Juliet: i. 3(8), 5(19); ii. 2(114), 5(43), 6(7); iii. 2(116), 5(105); iv. 1(48), 2(12), 3(56); v. 3(13). Whole no. 541.

Juliet: i. 3(8), 5(19); ii. 2(114), 5(43), 6(7); iii. 2(116), 5(105); iv. 1(48), 2(12), 3(56); v. 3(13). Whole no. 541.

Nurse: i. 3(61), 5(15); ii. 2(114), 6(43), 7(7); iii. 2(116), 5(105); iv. 1(48), 2(12), 3(56); v. 3(13). Whole no. 290.

Nurse: i. 3(61), 5(15); ii. 2(114), 6(43), 7(7); iii. 2(116), 5(105); iv. 1(48), 2(12), 3(56); v. 3(13). Whole no. 290.

"Prologue": (14). Whole no. 14.

"Prologue": (14). Issue #14.

"Chorus": end of act i. (14). Whole no. 14.

"Chorus": end of act 1. (14). Whole no. 14.

In the above enumeration, parts of lines are counted as whole lines, making the total in the play greater than it is. The actual number in each scene is as follows: Prologue (14); i. 1(244), 2(106), 3(106), 4(114), 5(147); Chorus (14); ii. 1(42), 2(190), 3(94), 4(233), 5(80), 6(37); iii. 1(202), 2(143), 3(175), 4(36), 5(241); iv. 1(126), 2(47), 3(58), 4(28), 5(150); v. 1(86), 2(30), 3(310). Whole number in the play, 3053. The line-numbering is that of the Globe ed.

In the list above, parts of lines are counted as full lines, which makes the total in the play higher than it actually is. The real count in each scene is as follows: Prologue (14); i. 1(244), 2(106), 3(106), 4(114), 5(147); Chorus (14); ii. 1(42), 2(190), 3(94), 4(233), 5(80), 6(37); iii. 1(202), 2(143), 3(175), 4(36), 5(241); iv. 1(126), 2(47), 3(58), 4(28), 5(150); v. 1(86), 2(30), 3(310). Total lines in the play: 3053. The line numbering is from the Globe edition.


INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED

  • a (= one), 215
  • a hall, a hall! 190
  • a la stoccata, 221
  • Abraham Cupid, 197
  • abused (= marred), 247
  • ache, 216
  • adventure (verb), 200, 266
  • advise (= consider), 244
  • afeard, 202
  • affections, 169
  • affray (verb), 238
  • afore, 214
  • afore me, 236
  • against (of time), 236
  • agate, 186
  • airy tongue, 203
  • all (intensive), 170
  • alligator, 263
  • amazed, 224
  • ambling, 183
  • ambuscadoes, 187
  • amerce, 225
  • anatomy, 234
  • ancient, 168, 206
  • and there an end, 236
  • antic, 191
  • apace, 215
  • ape, 198
  • apt to, 219, 235
  • as (= as if), 216
  • as (= namely), 254
  • as (omitted), 170
  • as (redundant), 272
  • associate me, 265
  • aspire (transitive), 223
  • atomies, 186
  • attach (= arrest), 271
  • attending (= attentive), 203
  • ay, 229
  • ay me! 197, 262
  • baked meats, 256
  • Balthasar (accent), 262
  • bandying, 216, 222
  • bankrupt (spelling), 229
  • banquet (= dessert), 195
  • bate (in falconry), 227
  • bear a brain, to, 179
  • beetle-brows, 183
  • behoveful, 253
  • bent (= inclination), 202
  • be-rhyme, 209
  • bescreened, 199
  • beshrew, 216, 244, 265
  • betossed, 267
  • better tempered, 234
  • bills (weapons), 167
  • bite by the ear, to, 211
  • bite the thumb, to, 167
  • blaze, 235
  • blazon, 218
  • bons, 209
  • bosom's lord, my, 262
  • both our remedies, 206
  • bound (play upon) 174, 183
  • bow of lath, 182
  • boy (contemptuous), 221
  • brace, 273
  • bride (masculine), 243
  • broad (goose), 212
  • broken music, 220
  • burn daylight, to, 185
  • button, 208
  • butt-shaft, 207
  • by and by (= presently), 224, 236, 273
  • candles (night's), 237
  • canker (= worm), 205
  • cankered, 168
  • Capel's, 262, 270
  • captain of compliments, 207
  • carries it away, 221
  • carry coals, to, 166
  • carry no crotchets, 261
  • case (play upon), 183, 259
  • cat, nine lives of, 221
  • catched, 258
  • catling, 261
  • charge, 265
  • cheerly, 190
  • cheveril, 212
  • chinks, 194
  • choler (play upon), 166
  • chop-logic, 243
  • Chorus, 165
  • circle (magician's), 198
  • circumstance, 216, 271
  • civil (= grave), 227
  • closed (= enclosed), 188
  • closet (= chamber), 253
  • clout, 207
  • clubs, 167
  • cock-a-hoop, 192
  • coil (= ado), 216
  • colliers, 166
  • come near, 190
  • comfortable (active), 271
  • commission, 248
  • compare (noun), 216, 246
  • compliment, 200
  • concealed, 234
  • conceit, 218
  • conclude (transitive), 225
  • conduct (= conductor), 223, 270
  • conduit, 242
  • confessor (accent), 218, 233
  • confidence (= conference), 212
  • confound (= destroy), 217
  • confusions, 258
  • conjurations, 267
  • conjure (accent), 197
  • consort (noun), 219
  • consort (transitive), 223
  • consort with, 219
  • content thee, 192
  • contract (accent), 201
  • contrary (accent), 229
  • contrary (verb), 193
  • convert (intransitive), 193[Pg 294]
  • cot-quean, 257
  • county(= count), 181, 241
  • court-cupboard, 189
  • courtship, 233
  • cousin (= kinsman), 223
  • cousin (= uncle), 190
  • cover (play upon), 180
  • cross (= perverse), 253
  • cross (= thwart), 267
  • crow-keeper, 182
  • crush a cup, 176
  • crystal scales, 176
  • cure (intransitive), 174
  • curfew-bell, 256
  • Cynthia, 238
  • damnation (concrete), 245
  • dare (play upon), 207
  • dark heaven, 173
  • date (= duration), 188
  • dateless, 269
  • dear, 232, 265, 267
  • dear hap, 204
  • dear mercy, 232
  • death (concrete), 268
  • death-darting eye, 229
  • defy (= refuse), 267
  • deny (= refuse), 190
  • depart (= part), 220
  • depend (impend), 223
  • desperate, 236
  • determine of, 229
  • detestable (accent), 258
  • devotion (quadrisyllable), 248
  • Dian's wit, 171
  • digressing, 235
  • discover (= reveal), 201, 224
  • dislike (= displease), 200
  • displant, 233
  • dispute (= reason), 233
  • dissemblers (metre), 230
  • distemperature, 206
  • distraught, 255
  • division (in music), 238
  • do danger, 265
  • do disparagement, 192
  • do hate, 234
  • doctrine (= instruction), 172
  • doom thee death, 223
  • doth (plural), 165
  • doubt (= distrust), 267
  • drawn, 167
  • drift (= scheme), 252
  • dry-beat, 222, 261
  • dump, 260
  • Dun in the mire, 184
  • dun's the mouse, 184
  • earth, 173, 196
  • elf-locks, 187
  • empty (= hungry), 267
  • encamp them, 205
  • encounter, 218
  • endart, 181
  • enforce (= force), 267
  • engrossing, 269
  • enpierced, 183
  • entrance (trisyllable), 182
  • envious (= malicious), 224, 228
  • Ethiope, 191
  • evening mass, 247
  • exile (accent), 225, 232
  • expire (transitive), 188
  • extremes, 248
  • extremities, 196
  • faintly, 182
  • fairies' midwife, 186
  • familiar (metre), 232
  • fantasticoes, 208
  • fashion-mongers, 209
  • fay (= faith), 195
  • fearful (= afraid), 232
  • feeling (= heartfelt), 240
  • festering, 254
  • fettle, 243
  • fine (= penance), 193
  • fire drives out fire, 174
  • five wits, 185, 211
  • flattering (= illusive), 261
  • flecked, 204
  • fleer, 191
  • flirt-gills, 213
  • flowered (pump), 211
  • fond (= foolish), 233, 259
  • fool, 179
  • foolish, 195
  • fool's paradise, 214
  • for (repeated), 196
  • form (play upon), 209
  • forth, 169
  • fortune's fool, 224
  • frank (= bountiful), 201
  • Freetown, 169
  • fret, 237
  • friend (= lover), 239
  • from forth, 204
  • gapes, 196
  • garish, 228
  • gear (= matter), 212, 264
  • ghostly, 204
  • give leave awhile, 178
  • give me, 252
  • give me leave, 216
  • gleek, 260
  • glooming, 273
  • God save the mark! 229
  • God shall mend my soul! 192
  • God shield, 248
  • God ye good morrow! 212
  • good-den (or god-den), 170, 175, 219, 243
  • good goose, bite not, 211
  • good hap, 235
  • good morrow, 170, 205
  • good thou, 189
  • gore-blood, 229
  • gossamer, 217
  • grandsire, 209
  • grave (play upon), 223
  • grave beseeming, 168
  • green (eyes), 245
  • green (= fresh), 254
  • grey-eyed, 204, 209
  • haggard (noun), 203
  • hap, 204
  • harlotry, 253
  • have at thee, 167, 261
  • haviour, 200
  • hay (in fencing), 208
  • he (= him), 240
  • he (= man), 264
  • healthsome, 254
  • heartless (= cowardly), 167
  • Heart's-ease, 260
  • heavy (play upon), 170
  • held him carelessly, 236
  • highmost, 216
  • high-top-gallant, 214
  • hilding, 209, 243
  • his (= its), 259, 270
  • hoar (= mouldy), 213
  • hold the candle, to, 184
  • holp, 174
  • homely in thy drift, 206
  • honey (adjective), 216
  • hood, 227
  • hour (dissyllable), 216, 225
  • house (= sheath), 270
  • humorous, 198
  • [Pg 295]
  • humours, 197
  • hunts-up, 238
  • I (repeated), 220
  • idle worms, 186
  • ill-beseeming, 234
  • importuned (accent), 170
  • in (= into), 262, 267
  • in extremity, 181
  • in happy time, 241
  • in his view, 170
  • in post, 273
  • in spite, 168, 192
  • inconstant, 252
  • indite (= invite), 213
  • infection (quadrisyllable), 265
  • inherit (= possess), 173
  • it fits, 192
  • Jack, 213, 219, 261
  • jealous (= suspicious), 267
  • jealous-hood, 257
  • joint-stools, 188
  • keep ado, 236
  • kindly, 211, 271
  • king of cats, 221
  • knife (worn by ladies), 248, 254
  • label, 248
  • labour (of time), 258
  • lace, 210, 237
  • Lady, lady, lady, 213
  • lady-bird, 177
  • lamentation (metre), 235
  • Lammas-tide, 178
  • languish (noun), 174
  • lantern, 267
  • lay (= wager), 178
  • lay along, 266
  • learn (= teach), 227, 253
  • leaves, 218
  • let (noun), 200
  • level (= aim), 234
  • lieve, 215
  • light (play upon), 183
  • lightning before death, 268
  • like (= likely), 254
  • like of, 181
  • living (noun), 258
  • loggerhead, 257
  • long sword, 168
  • love (= Venus), 215
  • loving-jealous, 204
  • Mab, 185
  • made (= did), 273
  • maidenhead, 177
  • make and mar, 172
  • makes dainty, 190
  • mammet, 244
  • man of wax, 179
  • manage (noun), 224
  • mandrake, 254
  • manners (number), 272
  • many's, 181
  • marchpane, 189
  • margent, 180
  • mark (= appoint), 179
  • mark-man, 171
  • marriage (trisyllable), 196, 247, 272
  • married (figurative), 180
  • married and marred, 172
  • masks (ladies'), 172
  • me (ethical dative), 208, 219
  • mean (noun), 233
  • measure (= dance), 182
  • merchant (contemptuous), 213
  • mewed up, 236
  • mickle, 205
  • minion, 243
  • misadventure, 262
  • mistempered, 168
  • mistress (trisyllable), 214
  • modern (= trite), 231
  • moody (= angry), 219
  • mouse-hunt, 257
  • moved, 168
  • much upon these years, 179
  • muffle, 267
  • natural (= fool), 212
  • naught, 230
  • needly, 231
  • needy, 241
  • neighbour-stained, 168
  • new (adverbial), 170
  • news (number), 216, 242
  • nice (= petty, trifling), 224, 265
  • nightgown, 168
  • nor ... not, 238, 241
  • nothing (adverb), 169
  • nuptial, 191
  • O (= grief), 233
  • o'er-perch, 200
  • of (= on), 167, 216
  • of the very first house, 208
  • old (= practised), 234
  • one is no number, 173
  • operation (= effect), 219
  • opposition (metre), 253
  • orchard (= garden), 197
  • osier cage, 204
  • outrage (= outcry), 272
  • outrage (trisyllable), 222
  • overwhelming, 263
  • owe (= possess), 199
  • pale as a clout, 215
  • paly, 249
  • pardonnez-mois, 209
  • partisan, 167
  • parts (= gifts), 232, 244
  • passado, 208, 222
  • passing (adverbial), 172
  • pastry, 256
  • patience (trisyllable), 262, 272
  • patience perforce, 193
  • pay that doctrine, 172
  • peace (metre), 243
  • perforce (= by force), 272
  • peruse (= scan), 267
  • pestilent, 261
  • Phaethon, 225
  • pilcher, 222
  • pin (in archery), 207
  • pinked, 211
  • plantain, 174
  • pluck, 204
  • portly, 192
  • poor my lord, 230
  • pothecary, 273
  • pout'st upon, 235
  • powerful grace, 205
  • predominant, 205
  • presence, 268
  • present(= immediate), 264
  • presently, 262
  • pretty, 261
  • prevails (= avails), 233
  • prick of noon, 212
  • prick-song, 208
  • prince of cats, 207
  • princox, 193
  • procure, 239
  • prodigious, 196
  • proof (= experience), 171
  • proof (of armour), 171
  • properer, 215
  • prorogued, 200, 248
  • [Pg 296]
  • proverbed, 184
  • pump (= shoe), 211
  • punto reverso, 208
  • purchase out, 225
  • question (= conversation), 172
  • quit (= requite), 214
  • quote (= note), 183
  • quoth, 179
  • R, the dog's letter, 215
  • rearward, 231
  • reason coldly, 220
  • rebeck, 261
  • receipt, 241
  • receptacle (accent), 254
  • reckoning, 172
  • reeky, 249
  • remember (reflexive), 178
  • respective, 223
  • rest you merry! 175
  • retort (= throw back), 224
  • riddling, 206
  • roe (play upon), 209
  • rood (= cross), 179
  • ropery, 213
  • rosemary, 259
  • round (= whisper), 195
  • runaways' eyes, 225
  • rushed aside the law, 232
  • rushes, 183
  • sadly (= seriously), 171
  • sadness, 171
  • savage wild, 267
  • scales (singular), 176
  • scant, 176
  • scape, 219
  • scathe, 192
  • scorn at, 192
  • season, 206
  • set abroach, 169
  • set up my rest, 269
  • sick and green, 199
  • siege (figurative), 171, 272
  • silver-sweet, 203
  • simpleness, 216, 233
  • simples (= herbs), 216, 263
  • single-soled, 211
  • sir-reverence, 185
  • skains-mates, 213
  • slip (= counterfeit), 210
  • slops, 210
  • slow (verb), 247
  • smooth (verb), 231
  • so (omitted), 241
  • so brief to part, 235
  • so ho! 213
  • solemnity, 192
  • some minute, 273
  • some other where, 171
  • something (adverb), 266
  • sometime, 187
  • soon-speeding, 264
  • sorrow drinks our blood, 239
  • sort (= select), 253
  • sorted out, 241
  • soul (play upon), 183, 211
  • sound (= utter), 231
  • sour, 232, 267
  • sped, 222
  • speed, be my, 270
  • spinners, 186
  • spite, 198, 247
  • spleen, 224
  • spoke him fair, 224
  • stand on sudden haste, 206
  • star-crossed, 165
  • starved, 171
  • starveth, 264
  • stay (= wait for), 261
  • stay the circumstance, 216
  • steads, 206
  • still (= always), 269, 273
  • strained, 205
  • strange, 200, 227
  • strucken, 172
  • stumbling at graves, 270
  • substantial (quadrisyllable), 202
  • surcease, 249
  • swashing blow, 167
  • sweet my mother, 244
  • sweet water, 266
  • sweet-heart (accent), 257
  • sweeting, 211
  • sweetmeats, 187
  • swounded, 229
  • sycamore, 169
  • tables (turned up), 190
  • tackled stair, 214
  • take me with you, 242
  • take the wall, 166
  • take truce, 224
  • tassel-gentle, 203
  • teen, 178
  • temper (= mix), 241
  • tender (noun), 244
  • tender (= regard), 221
  • tetchy, 179
  • thank me no thankings, 243
  • that (affix), 233
  • therewithal, 273
  • this three hours, 265
  • thorough (= through), 207
  • thought(= hoped), 258
  • thou's, 178
  • thumb, rings for, 186
  • tidings (number), 241
  • timeless, 271
  • 't is an ill cook, etc., 252
  • Titan, 204
  • toes, 190
  • to-night (= last night), 185, 207
  • torch-bearer, 182, 237
  • towards (= ready), 195
  • toy (= caprice), 252
  • trencher, 188
  • tried (= proved), 254
  • truckle-bed, 198
  • tutor me from, 219
  • two and forty hours, 249
  • two hours (of a play), 166
  • two may keep counsel, 214
  • Tybalt, 207
  • unattainted, 176
  • uncomfortable, 259
  • uneven (= indirect), 247
  • unfirm, 266
  • unkind (accent, etc.), 270
  • unmanned, 227
  • unsavoury, 270
  • unstuffed, 205
  • untimely (adverb), 223, 273
  • up (transposed), 253
  • use (tense), 196
  • utters (= sells), 264
  • validity, 233
  • vanished, 232
  • vanity, 218
  • vaulty (heaven), 238
  • Verona, 165
  • versal, 215
  • very (adjective), 222
  • view (= appearance), 170
  • volume (figurative), 180
  • [Pg 297]
  • volume (figurative), 180
  • wanton (masculine), 203
  • ware (= aware), 169, 200
  • was I with you? 211
  • weeds (= garments), 263
  • well (of the dead), 258, 262
  • well said (= well done), 193
  • what (= how, why), 191
  • what (= who), 194
  • wherefore (accent), 200
  • who (= which), 169, 188, 233, 242
  • wild-goose chase, 211
  • will none, 242
  • wit, 235, 240
  • with (= by), 170, 267
  • withal, 169
  • wits, five, 185
  • worm (in fingers), 186
  • wormwood, 178
  • worser, 205, 221
  • worshipped sun, 169
  • worth (= wealth), 218
  • wot, 232
  • wrought (= effected), 242
  • yet not, 199
  • zounds, 220

ROLFE'S ENGLISH CLASSICS

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Edited by WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt. D.

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BROWNING'S SELECT POEMS

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THE popularity of Rolfe's Shakespeare has been extraordinary. Since its first publication in 1870-83 it has been used more widely, both in schools and colleges, and by the general reading public, than any similar edition ever issued. It is to-day the standard annotated edition of Shakespeare for educational purposes.

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FOOTNOTES

[1] A translation of La Giulietta, with an historical and critical introduction by me, was published in Boston, 1893.

[1] A translation of La Giulietta, along with a historical and critical introduction by me, was published in Boston in 1893.

"Come see the Capulets and Montagues,—
Monaldi,—Filippeschi, reckless one!
These now in fear, already wretched those."
(Wright's translation.)

[3] In the original sense of reconciliation; as in Rich. III. i. 3. 36:

[3] In the original meaning of reconciliation; as in Rich. III. i. 3. 36:

he wants to make amends
Betwixt the Duke of Gloster and your brothers," etc.
[4]

The entire poem is reprinted in the Variorum of 1821, in Collier's Shakespeare's Library (and Hazlitt's revised ed. of the same), in Halliwell-Phillipps's folio ed. of Shakespeare, and by the New Shakspere Society (edited by P.A. Daniel) in 1875. I have followed Daniel's ed.

The whole poem is included in the Variorum of 1821, in Collier's Shakespeare's Library (and Hazlitt's updated edition of the same), in Halliwell-Phillipps's folio edition of Shakespeare, and by the New Shakspere Society (edited by P.A. Daniel) in 1875. I have referenced Daniel's edition.

[5] That is, whisper. Cf. W.T. i. 2. 217, K. John, ii. 1. 566, etc.

[5] In other words, whisper. See W.T. i. 2. 217, K. John, ii. 1. 566, etc.

[6] At the meeting of the new Shakspere Society, Oct. 11, 1878, the chairman read a paper by Mr. Ruskin on the word fret in this passage. The following is from the report in the London Academy:—

[6] At the meeting of the new Shakspere Society on October 11, 1878, the chairman presented a paper by Mr. Ruskin about the word fret in this passage. The following is from the report in the London Academy:—

"Fret means primarily the rippling of the cloud—as sea by wind; secondarily, the breaking it asunder for light to come through. It implies a certain degree of vexation, some dissolution, much order, and extreme beauty. The reader should have seen 'Daybreak,' and think what is broken and by what. The cloud of night is broken up, by Day, which breaks out, breaks in, as from heaven to earth, with a breach in the cloud wall of it. The thing that the day breaks up is partly a garment rent, the blanket of the dark torn to be peeped through...."

"Fret primarily refers to the way clouds ripple, similar to how the sea moves in the wind; secondarily, it describes the breaking apart of these clouds to let light through. It suggests a certain level of frustration, some disintegration, a lot of order, and incredible beauty. Readers should have seen 'Daybreak' and contemplate what is being broken and how. The night’s cloud is shattered by Day, which emerges, breaks in, as if coming from heaven to earth, with a tear in the cloud barrier. What Day breaks apart is partly like a garment rent, the dark blanket torn open for light to shine through...."

[7] For the rhyme of after and daughter, cf. T. of S. i. 1. 245, 246, W.T. iv. 1. 27, 28, and Lear, i. 4. 341, 344.

[7] For the rhyme of after and daughter, see T. of S. i. 1. 245, 246, W.T. iv. 1. 27, 28, and Lear, i. 4. 341, 344.

[8] Praed alludes to this affection of the "salad days" of youth in The Belle of the Ball-room:—

[8] Praed refers to the fondness of the "salad days" of youth in The Belle of the Ball-room:—

"Through sunny May, through sultry June,
I loved her with a love eternal."

That is about the average span of its "eternity." In Romeo's case it did not last even two months, as we may infer from the fact (i. 1. 136) that his parents have not found out the cause of it, and from what his friends say about it.

That’s about the average length of its "eternity." For Romeo, it didn’t even last two months, as we can deduce from the fact (i. 1. 136) that his parents haven’t figured out the reason for it, and from what his friends say about it.


Transcriber's notes:

Transcriber's notes:

Fixed various punctuation.

Corrected punctuation issues.

P.73. 'thorough the ear' is in another volume, keeping.

P.73. 'through the ear' is in another volume, keeping.

P.143. 'Some villanous shame' is in another volume, keeping.

P.143. 'Some villainous shame' is in another volume, keeping.

P.191. 'iustly' means 'justly' but not changed as other words in this poem are the same, 'i' for 'j'.

P.191. 'iustly' means 'justly' but not changed as other words in this poem are the same, 'i' for 'j'.

P.199. 'Gf.' changed to 'Cf.'.

P.199. 'Gf.' changed to 'Cf.'.

P.255. v. 'i.' 12, changed to v. '1.' 12,.

P.255. v. '1.' 12, changed to v. '1.' 12,.

P.236. 'ii. i. 102:' changed to 'ii. 1. 102:'.

P.236. 'ii. i. 102:' changed to 'ii. 1. 102:'.

P.288. 'happpy'changed to 'happy'.

P.288. 'happy' changed to 'happy'.

Both words 'loggerhead' and 'logger-head' are present, leaving.

Both words 'loggerhead' and 'logger-head' are present, leaving.

Both words 'a-bed' and 'abed' are present, leaving.

Both terms 'a-bed' and 'abed' are present, leaving.


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