And never from this Palace of dim night Depart again: Here, here will I remain, With worms that are thy chamber-maids; oh here And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-weary'd flefh. Eyes, look your last! [Drinks the poifon. Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kifs I die. [Dies. 6 And never from this Palace Thy drugs are quick)] Mr. Pope's, and fome other of the worfer editions acknowledge abfurdly the lines which I have put into parenthefis here; and which I have expung'd from the text, for this reafon : Romeo is made to confess the effect of the poifon before ever he has tafted it. I fuppofe, it hardly was fo favoury that the patient should chufe to make two draughts of it. And, eight lines after thefe, we find him taking the poifon in his hands, and making an apostrophe to it; inviting it to perform its office at once; and then, and not 'till then, does he clap it to his lips, or can with any probability I speak of its inftant force and ef- -Come, lie thou in my Arms; O true Apothecary! &c. THEOBALD. I have no edition but the folio, which has all the paffage here mentioned. I have followed Mr. Theobald. 1 Enter Friar Lawrence with lanthorn, crow, and spade. Fri. St. Francis be my fpeed! How oft to-night Have my old feet ftumbled at graves ?-Who's there? Enter Balthafar. Balth. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyelefs fculls? as I difcern, It burneth in the Capulets' Monument. Balth. It doth fo, holy Sir,-and there's my mafter, One that you love. Fri. Who is it? Fri. How long hath he been there? Balth. Full half an hour. Fri. Go with me to the vault. Balth. I dare not, Sir. My mafter knows not, but I am gone hence; If I did stay to look on his intents. Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me; O, much I fear fome ill unlucky thing. Balth. As I did. fleep under this yew tree here, I dreamt, my mafter and another fought, And that my mafter flew him. Fri. Romeo! Alack, alack, what blood is this, which ftains Is guilty of this lamentable chance? The lady ftirs. Ful. [awaking.] Oh comfortable Friar, where is my Lord ? I do remember well, where I should be; Fri. I hear fome noife! Lady, come from that neft Stay not to queftion, for the watch is coming. O churl, drink all, and leave no friendly drop Thy lips are warm. Enter Boy and Watch. Watch. Lead, boy. Which way ? Jul. Yea, noife? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! [Finding a dagger. This is thy fheath, there ruft and let me die. [Kills berfelf. Boy. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. Watch. The ground is bloody. Search about the church-yard; Go, fome of you, whom e'er you find, attach. I 4 Pitiful Pitiful fight! here lies the County slain, Enter fome of the Watch, with Balthafar. 1 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard. 1 Watch, Hold him in fafety, 'till the Prince comes hither. Enter another Watchman with Friar Lawrence. 3 Watch. Here is a Friar that trembles, fighs and weeps. A We took this mattock and this fpade from him, As he was coming from this church-yard fide. 1 Watch. A great fufpicion. Stay the Friar too. SCENE V. Enter the Prince, and attendants. Prince. What mifadventure is fo early up, That calls our perfon from our morning's Reft? 7 Raife up the Montagues. Some others; fearch-] Here feems to be a rhyme intended, which may be easily restored; Reife up the Montagues. Some others, go. We fee the ground whereon thefe woes do lie, But the true ground of all this pireous woe We cannot without circum fance defery. Enter Enter Capulet and lady Capulet. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? La. Cap. The people in the street cry, Romeo? Some, Juliet; and fome, Paris; and all run With open out-cry tow'rd our Monument, Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your ears? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris flain, And Romeo dead, and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. Prince. Search, seek, and know, how this foul murder comes. Watch. Here is a Friar, and flaughter'd Romeo's man, With inftruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. Cap. Oh, heav'n! oh, wife! look how our daughter bleeds. This dagger hath mifta'en; for, lo! the fheath The point mif-fheathed in my daughter's bofom. Enter Montague. Prince. Come, Montague, for thou art early up, To fee thy son and heir now early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my fon's exile hath ftopt her breath. What further woe confpires against my age? Prince. Look, and thou fhalt fee. What fear is this, which fartles in your ears?] Read, What fear is this, which fartles in our ears? 9 -lo! the feath |