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 borrowed grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease:
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was stayed by accident; and yesternight
Returned my letter back. Then all alone,
At the prefixéd 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 awakening), here untimely lay
The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
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.
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 sacrificed some hour before his time,
Unto the rigor of severest law.

Where is the County's page, that raised the watch?

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
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. -
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 punished!

Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand:
This is my daughter's jointure; for no more
Can I demand.

man.

this?

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie:

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 threatened 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.

"Gregory, o my word, we'll not carry coals."-Act I., Scene 1.

This phrase was used proverbially for submitting to insult. Its origin is thus explained by Mr. Gifford :-"In all great houses, but particularly in the royal residences, there were a number of mean and dirty dependents, whose office it was to attend the wood-yard, sculleries, &c. Of these (for in the lowest deep there was a lower still), the most forlorn wretches seem to have been selected to carry coals to the kitchens, halls, &c. To this smutty regiment, who attended the progresses, and rode in the carts with the pots and kettles, which, with every other article of furniture, were then moved from palace to palace, the people in derision, gave the name of blackguards; a term since become sufficiently familiar, and never properly explained."

"Here comes two of the house of the Montagues."

Act I., Scene 1. The partisans of the Montague family wore a token in their hats, in order to distinguish them from their enemies, the Capulets. Hence, throughout the play they are known at a distance. The circumstance is mentioned by Gascoigne, in "A DEVISE OF A MASQUE," written for Lord Mountacute (1575):

"And for a further proof, he shewed in his hat This token, which the Montacutes did bear always, for that They covet to be known from Capels, where they pass,

For ancient grudge which long ago 'tween these two houses was.”

"I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it."- Act I., Scene 1.

This mode of provoking a quarrel seems to have originated in Italy, but had become common in England at the date of this play. Decker says (speaking of the loungers in St. Paul's Church), “What swearing is there, what shouldering, what justling, what jeering, what biting of thumbs, to beget quarrels!"

Cotgrave thus explains the mode in which this token of contempt was given:-" Faire la nique.-To mock by nodding or lifting up of the chin; or, more properly, to threaten or defy by putting the thumb-nail into the mouth, and with a jerk (from the upper teeth) make it to nack."

"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,

Or dedicate his beauty to the sun."- Act I., Scene 1.

The old copies here, instead of "to the sun," read "to the same." This prosaic termination of so beautiful a passage was altered at the suggestion of Theobald, to whom the received text is, in many instances, indebted. It is highly probable that "same" is a typographical mistake for "sunne," which was often the old orthography of the latter word. Daniel, in one of his sonnets (1594), has a passage somewhat similar:

"And while thou spread'st unto the rising sun
The fairest flower that ever saw the light,
Now 'joy thy time, before thy sweet be done."

"Love is a smoke, made with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes."
Act I., Scene 1

Johnson, Steevens, Reed, and others, have contended that "purg'd" cannot have been the poet's language; and they suggest urg'd, in the sense of excited. This emendation might answer the purpose, if no better were offered, but in the margin of the folio, 1632, we are told to substitute a word that exactly belongs to the place, and that might be easily misread "purg'd" by the printer:

"Being puff'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes."

"She hath Dian's wit,

And in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.”

Act I., Scene 1. Such has always been the reading since the time of Rowe; but the quarto, 1597, and the folios have,—

"From love's weak childish bow she lives uncharm'd." "Unharm'd" may here again be said to answer the purpose, by giving a clear meaning; but the alteration required by the corrector of the folio 1632, is only of a single letter, and a much more poetical turn is given to the thought:

"She hath Dian's wil,

And in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow she lives encharm'd."

"For beauty, starved with her severity,

Cuts beauty off from all posterity."- Act I., Scene 1.

A similar thought to this is found in Shakspeare's third Sonnet: "Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love to stop posterity?"

And in his "VENUS AND ADONIS:"

"What is thy body but a swallowing grave,

Seeming to bury that posterity

Which, by the rights of time, thou needs must have?"

"And too soon marr'd are those so early made,"
Act I., Scene 2.

had been given in the quartos.

"And too soon marr'd are those so early married;" and that should seem to be the true proverbial word, for the old corrector adopts it and expunges "made."

-“I remember it well,

'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years."

Act I., Scene 3.

How comes the Nurse to talk of an earthquake upon this occasion? There is no such circumstance, I believe, mentioned in any of the

novels from which Shakspeare may be supposed to have drawn his story; and therefore it seems probable that he had in view the earthquake which had really been felt in many parts of England in his own time, viz., on the 6th of April, 1580 (See Stowe's "CHRONICLE," &c.). If so, one may be permitted to conjecture that "ROMEO AND JULIET" was written in 1591.-TYRWHITT.

"Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, &c."- Act I., Scene 4.

In Arthur Brooke's heavy rhyming poem of "ROMEUS AND JULIET" (which will be subsequently spoken of), there is the following mention of Mercutio:

"At th' one side of her chair her lover Romeo,

And on the other side there sat one called Mercutio;

A courtier that eachwhere was highly had in price,

For he was courteous of his speech and pleasant of device:
Even as a lion would among the lambs be bold,
Such was, among the bashful maids, Mercutio to behold.
With friendly gripe he seized fair Juliet's snowish hand:
A gift he had that nature gave him in his swathing band,-
That frozen mountain ice was never half so cold

As were his hands, though ne'er so near the fire he did them hold." On this slight hint, Shakspeare founded the admirable character bearing the same name.

"Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling.”— Act I., Scene 4. A torchbearer seems to have been a constant attendant on every troop of maskers. In "WESTWARD HOE," by Decker and Webster, we find,"He is just like a torchbearer to maskers; he wears good clothes, and is ranked in good company, but he doth nothing."

Henry VIII., when he went masked to visit Wolsey at Whitehall, had sixteen torchbearers. The gentlemen-pensioners of Queen Elizabeth held torches while a play was acted before her, in the chapel of King's College, Cambridge.

"ROM.

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
MER. Tut! 'dun's the mouse,' the constable's own word.

Act I., Scene 4. "Dun's the mouse" is a proverbial expression that often occurs in the old comedies; its origin is uncertain: some allusion to the color of the animal was probably intended, but it was also occasionally used, as in the text, merely to found a quibble on the word "done." Malone observes that the phrase "seems to have meant 'peace, be still and hence it is said to be the constable's own word;' who may be supposed to be employed in apprehending an offender, and afraid of alarming him by any noise."- The constable may, with at least equal probability, be thought to have appropriated the word or term, from his habit of enjoining silence to others.

"If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire, &c."

Act I., Scene 4.

In this line, the word "dun" is used to signify a dun horse. Mr. Gifford, in a note to Ben Jonson's "MASQUE OF CHRISTMAS," has thus described the rustic sport called "Dun is in the Mire:"-" A log of wood is brought into 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."

"Of healths five fathom deep."- Act I., Scene 4

A passage from "WESTWARD HOE" will best explain the practice here alluded to:-"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, on his knees, that he hath almost lost the use of his legs."

"This is that very Mat That plats the manes of horses in the night." Act I., Scene 4.

This line 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 likenesses 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 platting them in inextricable knots, to the great annoyance of the poor animals and the vexation of their mas ters. These hags are mentioned in the works of William Auvergne, Bishop of Paris, in the thirteenth century.

There is a very uncommon old print by Hans Burgmair, relating to this subject. A witch enters the stable with a lighted torch; and previously to the operation of entangling the horse's mane, practises her enchantments on the groom, who is lying asleep on his back, and apparently influenced by the nightmare. - Douce.

"Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet."- Act I., Scene 5. The "cousin Capulet" of this scene is doubtless the "uncle Capulet" mentioned in the paper of invitations. Shakspeare and his cotemporaries used the word cousin to denote any collateral relation of whatever degree, and sometimes even to denote those of lineal de scent. The King calls Hamlet his cousin, although his nephew and step-son; the old Duchess of York, in Richard III., calls her grandson cousin; and in a subsequent scene of this play, Lady Capulet exclaims, "Tybalt, my cousin; 0, my brother's child!"

"Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear."— Act I., Scene 5. There is an illustration similar to this in Shakspeare's twenty-sev enth Sonnet:

"Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,

Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new."

In the passage quoted from the text, all the quartos and the first folio read, "It seems she hangs," instead of the more spirited expres sion," Her beauty hangs." The present phraseology is from the sec ond folio, and is now so consecrated by general use and approval, that it would be both useless and ungracious to attempt to supersede it. We may here take the opportunity of remarking, that the most rigid sticklers for the authority of the first folio have found it necessary in very many cases (as well in this play as in others) to prefer the readings of the earlier quartos, and in some comparatively few instances, those of the second folio. The reason is this:- we know, unfortunately, as far as the matter is susceptible of proof, that none of Shakspeare's plays were published under his own superintendence: we know also, in reference to all the earlier copies, that typographi cal errors, stage omissions or interpolations, the want of regular editing, and other causes, have contributed to obscure, and, not unfre quently, to destroy the Poet's meaning: it is, therefore, in no irreverent spirit (as is too often inculcated), but rather from a feeling of duty and gratitude, that even the most cautious commentators have felt themselves compelled to depart from the principle of taking any one edition as an invariable guide.

From two or three instances selected in the present play from numerous others, merely as illustrations of the general fact, it will be seen that the reviser who should in every case adopt the readings of the first folio, would bring upon his devoted head the merited anathema of every Shaksperian reader. We have not, however, presumed to vary from its text without anxious consideration, and constant reference to those commentators who have shown the least disposi tion to innovate either as to words or versification.

"Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it.”- Act II., Scene 2.

This eulogium on the hidden powers of nature affords a natural introduction to the Friar's furnishing Juliet with the sleeping potion in Act IV. Here is one of the many instances in which the train of thought was suggested by Brooke's poem:

"But not in vain, my child, hath all my wandering been:-
What force the stones, the plants, and metals, have to work,
And divers other things that in the bowels of earth do lurk,
With care I have sought out; with pain I did them prove."

"But where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain, Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign." Act II., Scene 3. Friar Laurence is drawing a contrast between the wakefulness of careful age, and the calm sleep of untroubled youth: the epithet "unbruised" has, therefore, little propriety, and we are instructed to amend the line thus:

"But where unbusied youth, with unstuff'd brain," &c.

"BEN. Why, what is Tybalt?

MER. More than Prince of Cats."- Act II., Scene 4. This is an allusion to the story-book of "REYNARD THE FOX," in which Tybert is the name given to the Cat. A similar phrase occurs in many old works.

"These fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-mois, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench."— Act II., Scene 4.

It is said that during the ridiculous fashion which prevailed of great "boulstered breeches," it was necessary to cut away hollow places in the benches of the House of Commons, to make room for those monstrous protuberances, without which those "who stood on the new form could not sit at ease on the old bench."-SINGER.

"Thisbe, a grey eye or so."-Act II., Scene 4.

Mercutio means to allow that Thisbe had a very fine eye; for, from various passages, it appears that a grey eye was in our author's time thought eminently beautiful. This may seem strange to those who are not conversant with ancient phraseology; but a grey eye undoubtedly meant what we now denominate a blue eye.— MALONE.

"ROM.

What counterfeit did I give you?

MER. The slip, sir, the slip."-Act II., Scene 4.

This allusion is to the old counterfeit money called a slip, which is frequently mentioned in writings of the period. Greene in his "THIEVES FALLING OUT," &c., particularly describes it:-" And therefore he went and got him certain slips, which are counterfeit pieces of money, being brass, and covered over with silver, which the common people call slips."

"Why, then is my pump well-flowered."-Act II., Scene 4.

Here is a vein of wit too thin to be easily found. The fundamental idea is, that Romeo wore pinked pumps; that is, punched with holes in figures." JOHNSON.

It was the custom to wear ribbands in the shoes, formed into the shape of roses, or of any other flowers. So in the "MASQUE OF GRAY'S INN" (1614):-"Every masker's pump was fastened with a flower suitable to his cap."- STEEVENS.

"I am none of his skains-mates!"- Act II., Scene 4. Skain or skean was the Irish term for a knife or dagger. By "skains-mates," the Nurse probably means swaggering companions. Green, in his "QUIP FOR AN UPSTART COURTIER," describes "an ill-favored knave, who wore by his side a skein like a brewer's bungknife."

"Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?" Act II., Scene 4.

By this question, the Nurse means to insinuate that Romeo's image was ever in the mind of Juliet, and that they would be married. Rosemary, being conceived to have the power of strengthening the memory, was an emblem of remembrance and of the affection of lovers; and, for this reason probably, was worn at weddings.

"Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name: R is for the dog."

Act II., Scene 4.

The letter "R" puts the Nurse in mind of that sound whieh dogs make when they snarl. Ben Jonson, in his "ENGLISH GRAMMAR,” says "R' is the dog's letter, and hirreth in the sound."

"Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,

They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.

Hie you to church," &c.- Act II., Scene 5.

It was not "at any news" that Juliet's cheeks would be in scarlet, but at the particular and joyful tidings brought by the Nurse, who, according to an emendation in the folio, 1632, tells her,

"Now comes the wanton blood up in your checks,
They'll be in scarlet straightway at my news."

"I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad."-Act III., Scene 1.

It is observed that, in Italy, almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer.- JOHNSON.

"Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain!"

Act III., Scene 1. Thus the quarto 1597; for which the quarto 1599 has, "He gan in triumph!" This in the subsequent copies was made," He gone,” &c.— MALONE.

"He is a kinsman to the Montague;

Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.”
Act III., Scene 1.

The charge of falsehood on Benvolio, though produced at hazard, is very just. The author, who seems to intend the character of Benvolio as good, meant perhaps to shew how the best minds, in a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality.-JOHNSON.

"And with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

Cold death aside, and with the other sends

It back to Tyball, whose dexterity
Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud

'Hold friends! friends part!'" &c.— Act III., Scene 1. Here it is certain that the line,

"Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,"

is abridged of a syllable, which is supplied in manuscript:

"Retorts it home. Romeo he cries aloud," &c.

"Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That runaway's eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen!"
Act III., Scene 2.

Many attempts have been made to explain the term "runaway," in this passage; but none with success. The most probable solution, it appears to us, is that which supposes the poet to have meant by "runaway," the night; and by its eyes, the stars. It has been proposed to substitute "unawares, eyes may wink," for "runaway's eyes may wink." But this alteration would give a prosaic flatness to the phrase, which to say nothing of other objections- would alone convince us that it is not the true reading.

"Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars."

Act III., Scene 2.

This emendation is drawn from the undated quarto. The quartos of 1599, 1609, and the folio, read, when I shall die."

"Hath Romeo slain himself! Say thou but 'Ay,' And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice."

Act III., Scene 2.

In Shakspeare's time, the affirmative particle of "ay" was usually written "I," and in the above passage the editors have thought it necessary to retain the old spelling. We have, however, ventured to deviate from this unsightly practice, conceiving that there is sufficient similarity between the sounds of "ay" and "I" to point out the intended quibble. This is one of the trivial passages which we easily persuade ourselves have, by some accident or impertinence, been foisted into the genuine text.

"Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love."-Act III., Scene 3. Thus the original copy; for which in the folio we have

"Wert thou as young as Juliet my love."

I only mention this to shew the very high value of the early quarto editions.- MALONE.

"I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow." Act III., Scene 5. Cynthia's "brow" would not occasion a "pale reflex," and by the omission of one letter the light is at once cleared:

"Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's bow."

"Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes; O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day."

Act III., Scene 5.

The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occasion of a saying that the lark and toad had changed eyes. This tradition Dr. Johnson states himself to have heard in a rustic rhyme:

"To heaven I'd fly,

But that the toad beguiled me of mine eye."

Juliet means that the croak of the toad would have been no indication of the appearance of day, and consequently no signal for her lover's departure.

The "hunts-up" was the name of the tune anciently played to wake the hunters, and collect them together.

The seals of deeds were formerly not impressed on the parchment itself, but were appended on distinct slips or labels affixed to it. Hence in "KING RICHARD II.," the Duke of York discovers, by the depending seal, a covenant which his son, the Duke of Aumerle, had entered into:

"What seal is that which hangs without thy bosom?"

"Then (as the manner of our country is),

In thy best robes, uncovered on the bier."

Act IV., Scene 1. The Italian custom here alluded to is still continued. Mr. Rogers, in his poem on Italy, describes a scene of the kind:

"But now by fits

A dull and dismal noise assailed the ear,
A wail, a chant, louder and louder yet:
And now a strange fantastic troop appeared!
Thronging they came, as from the shades below;
All of a ghostly white! O say (I cried),
Do not the living here bury the dead?
Do spirits come and fetch them? What are these
That seem not of this world, and mock the day;
Each with a burning taper in his hand?'-
"It is an ancient brotherhood thou seest.
Such their apparel. Through the long, long line,
Look where thou wilt, no likeness of a man:
The living masked, the dead alone uncovered.
But marked!'- And, lying on her funeral couch,
Like one asleep, her eyelids closed, her hands
Folded together on her modest breast,

As 't were her nightly posture, through the crowd
She came at last,-and richly, gaily clad,
As for a birth-day feast!"

"If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand." Act V., Scene 1. Sleep is often resembled to death, and death to sleep; and when Romeo observes, as the correction in the folio, 1632, warrants us in giving the passage,—

"If I may trust the flattering death of sleep;"

he calls it "the flattering death of sleep" on account of the dream of joyful news from which he had awaked: during this "flattering death of sleep," he had dreamed of Juliet, and of her revival of him by the warmth of her kisses.

"My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne;

And, all this day, an unaccustomed spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts."

Act V., Scene 1.

These three lines are very gay and pleasing. But why does Shakspeare give Romeo this involuntary cheerfulness just before the extremity of unhappiness? Perhaps to shew the vanity of trusting to those uncertain and casual exaltations or depressions which many consider as certain foretokens of good and evil.-JOHNSON.

"Going to find a barefoot brother out,

One of our order, to associate me."- Act V.. Scene 2. It was customary for friars to travel in pairs, in order that each might be a check upon the behavior of the other.

"Ere this hand, by thee to Romeo sealed,

Shall be the label to another deed."- Act IV., Scene 1.

The original relator of the story on which this play is formed, was Luigi da Porto, a gentleman of Vicenza, who died in 1529. His novel did not appear till some years after his death; being first printed at Venice, in 1535, under the title of "LA GIULIETTA.”