Rom. But that a joy, paft joy, calls out on me, It were a grief, fo brief to part with thee.

(5) SCENE VI.

Changes to Capulet's House.

[Exeunt.

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.
Cap. Things have fallen out, Sir, fo unluckily,
That we have had no time to move our daughter.
Look fhe lov'd her kinfman Tybalt dearly,
-Well, we were born to die.-
'Tis very late, fhe'll not come down to-night.
I promife you, but for your Company,

you,

And fo did I.

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

Par. These times of woe afford no time to wooe. Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her Mind early to-mor

row;

To-night fhe's mew'd up to her heavinefs.

Cap. (6) Sir Paris, I will make a defperate tender Of my child's love. I think, fhe will be rul'd In all refpects by me; nay more, I doubt it not. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; Acquaint her here with my fon Paris' love, And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next, But, foft, what day is this?

(5) SCENE VI., Some few necessary verses are omitted in this fcene according to the oldeft editions.

POPE

(6) Sir Paris, I will make a DESPERATE tender Of my child's love.-] This was but an indifferent compliment both to Sir Paris and his daughter: As if there were fmall hopes of her ever proving good for any thing. For he could not call the tender, defperate on the little profpect there was of his performing his engagement, because he is fure, he fays, that his daughter will be ruled in all refpects by him. We should read,

Sir Paris, I will make a SEPARATE tender.

i. e. I will venture feparately on my own head, to make you a tender of my daughter's love, without confulting her. For Sir Paris was impatient, and the mother had faid,

Things have fall'n out, Sir fo unluckily,

That we bave bad no time to move our daughter. WARBURTON. Defperate means only bold, advent'rous, as if he had faid in the vulgar phrase, I will speak a bold word, and venture to promise you my daughter.

Par.

Par. Monday, my Lord.

Cap. Monday? Ha! ha! well, Wednesday is too foon,
On Thursday let it be. O' Thursday, tell her,
She fhall be married to this noble Earl.

-Will you be ready? Do you like this Hafte?
We'll keep no great ado a friend or two
For, hark you, Tybalt being flain fo late,
It may be thought we held him carelefly,
Being our kinfman, if we revel much ;

Therefore we'll have fome half a dozen friends,
And there's an end. But what fay you to Thursday?
Par. My Lord, I would that Thursday were to-mor-

TOW.

Cap. Well, get you gone

on Thurfday be it then. Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed.

[To Lady Cap. Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewel, my Lord,- -Light to my chamber, hoa! "Fore me. -It is fo late, that we may call It early by and by. Good night.

SCENE VII.

Juliet's Chamber looking to the Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window

of ropes fet.

[Exeunt.

; a ladder

Jul. 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 fhe fings on yon pomgranate tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious ftreaks
Do lace the fevering clouds in yonder eaft;
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops.
I must be gone and live, or ftay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it,
It is fome meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua
Then stay a while, thou fhalt not go fo foon.
VOL. X.

D

Rom.

Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death,
I am content if thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but (7) the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heav'ns fo high above our heads.
(8) I have more care to ftay, than will to go.
Come death, and welcome; Juliet wills it fo.
How is't, my Soul? Let's talk, it is not day.

n;

ful. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away. It is the lark that fings fo out of tune, Straining harfh difcords, and unpleafing sharps. Some fay the lark makes sweet divifion This doth not fo: for fhe divideth us. Some fay, the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes; (9) O, now I would they had chang'd voices too! (1) Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,

(7)

to the moon.

Hunting

the pale reflex-] The appearance of a cloud oppofed

(8) I have more care to stay, than will to go.] Would it be better thus,

I bave more will to flay, than care to go? (9) O, now I wOULD they bad cbang'd voices too!] The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occafion of a common faying amongst the people, that the toad and lark bad chang'd eyes. To this the fpeaker alludes. But fure the need not have wished that they bad chang'd voices too. The lark appeared to her untunable enough in all confcience: As appears by what the faid just before,

It is the lark that fings fo out of tune,

Straining harsh difcords and unpleafing fharps.

This directs us to the right reading. For how natural was it for her after this to add,

Some fay the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes.

O, now I woT they bave chang'd voices too.

i. e. the lark fings fo harfhly that I now perceive the toad and she have changed voices as well as eyes.

WARBURTON. This tradition of the toad and lark I have heard expressed in a ruftic rhyme,

To beav'n I'd fly,

But the Toad beguil'd me of my eye.

(1) Since arm from arm, &c.] Thefe two lines are omitted in the modern editions, and do not deferve to be replaced, but as they may fhew the danger of critical temerity. Dr. Warburton's change of I would to I wo was specious enough, yet it is evidently erro

neous.

Hunting thee up with huntfup to the day.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?-

our Woes.

-More dark and dark

Enter Nurfe.

Nurfe. Madam,

-Ful. Nurfe?

Nurfe. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber: The day is broke, be wary, look about. [Exit Nurse. Jul. Then, Window, let Day in, and let Life out. Rom. Farewel, farewel; one Kifs, and I'll defcend. [Romeo defcends. Jul. Art thou gone fo? love! lord! ah husband! friend!

I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour,
For in a minute there are many days.
O' by this count I fhall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity,
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O think't thou, we fhall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve
For fweet difcourfes, in our time to come.

Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining foul.
Methinks, I fee thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:!
Either my eye-fight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And truft me, love, in mine eye fo do you:
Dry Sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu

SCENE VIII.

--[Exit Romeo.

Jul. Oh fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle : If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him That is renown'd for faith; be fickle, fortune: For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But fend him back.

neous.

The fenfe is this, The lark they fay bas loft ber eyes to the toad, and now I would the toad had ber voice too, fince she uses it to the difturbance of lovers.

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up?
Jul. Who is't that calls? Is it my lady mother?
Is the not down fo late, or up fo early?

What unaccuftom'd cause (2) procures her hither?
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet?
ful. Madam, I am not well.

La. Cap. Ever more weeping for your coufin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his Grave with tears? An' if thou couldst, thou couldft not make him live; Therefore, have done. Some Grief fhews much of Love;

But much of Grief fhews ftill fome want of Wit.

Jul. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling loss.

La. Cap. So fhall you feel the Lofs, but not the Friend

Which you do weep for.

Jul. Feeling fo the Lofs,

I cannot chufe but ever weep the Friend.

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'ft not fo much for his death,

As that the villain lives which flaughter'd him.

Jul. What villain, Madam?

La. Cap. That fame villain, Romeo.

Ful. [Afide.] Villain and he are many miles afunder. God pardon him! I do with all my heart: And, yet, no Man like he doth grieve my Heart. La. Cap. That is, because the Traitor lives.

Jul. (3) Ay, Madam, from the Reach of these my hands

'Would, none but I might venge my Coufin's Death! La. Cap. We will have Vengeance for it, fear thou

not.

Then weep no more.

I'll fend to one in Mantua,

Where that fame banish'd Runagate doth live,
Shall give him fuch an (4) unaccuftom'd Dram,

(2)

-procures ber bither?] Procures, for brings.

That

WARBURTON.

(3) Ay, Madam, from Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed by the lofs of a new lover.

(4) ---unaccuftom'd Dram,] In vulgar language, Shall give

him