is incorrect.

How appropriate too is her lover's appeal to her, when he hears that first sound of her well known voice. It is brilliant and vivid.

She speaks! she speaks!

Oh speak again bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this sight, being o'er my head
As is a winged messenger from heaven
To the upturn'd wond'ring eyes of mortals
When he bestrides the lazy pacing clouds,
And sails
upon the bosom of the air.

If the reader looks closely into this, he will perceive a little of bombast in it. 'Tis correct. Carried away by the feelings of the moment-hurried on by the actual appearance to him, of the being he loved most; it would have evinced little knowledge of human nature if "the mighty master had not allowed his feelings to govern him, and thus break at once into passion and enthusiasm. Pass this part of the play, and in no other place is this slight touch of the extravaganza perceived. Mark again this judgment. There is of course (and correctly) warmth and enthusiasm; but I cannot find out any part of the drama which glides into the bombast in the perceptible manner that this does.

What perfect music is in the vowels of the following line. I also beg of the reader to mark the

force, both of love and language in the word 66 wherefore."

Romeo! Romeo!—wherefore art thou Romeo?

In the next line to this her love breaks out. She can no longer withhold even telling herself of it, and in the very second line that she speaks, she accordingly with solicitous fondness says,

Deny thy father, and refuse thy name,

Or, if thou will not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at
this. (aside.)

The judgment of this reply of Romeo's consists, not in the line itself, but in the direction of the inimitable painter to have it spoken “aside.” How sweet and girlish, and how full of satisfied argument are the following lines.

"Tis not thy name, that is my enemy!

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 called)
Retain that dear perfection which he owns,
Without that title; Romeo, quit thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself!*

* In writing this passage, I have made two alterations in it, which I think make it plainer.

In the

Romeo's next answer discovers himself; and it is here that the judgment of Shakespeare more particularly evinces itself. Juliet is on the balcony, enjoying the "cool and silent hour," and totally heedless of every sight and sound, while her thoughts are wrapped up in "the one loved name." She perceives not Romeo-hears not Romeo; but is so completely lost in her own solitary and love-fraught musings, that she can do nothing, but as it were think aloud of the one on whom her heart is set. She can no longer contain herself, and she exclaims with the heedless but deep fondness of woman, "Take all myself!" On hearing this, Romeo can no longer withhold, and he accordingly says, "I take thee at thy word." She then discovers that Romeo (unheeded by her) has been listening all the while to her fond and tender exclamations, and after some further discourse, addresses him in the following

third line, I have inclosed some of the words in a parenthesis, joining them thus-" So Romeo would retain that dear perfection," &c. &c. In several editions they write the word "owes." I have made it owns,

which makes both sense and grammar. The words "dear perfection," strike me as being very expressive. Mark the woman's love of "Take all myself.”

sweet apostrophe. I mark some of the words in italics.

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-
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say, aye,
And I will take thy word.*-Yet if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false; at lover's perjuries
They say Jove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;
Or, if thou think I am too quickly won,
I'll 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,
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,

*

This is the finest stroke of character in this most musical speech.

+ I request the reader to mark the great naturalness of this line the three last words particularly...

And not impute this yielding to light love
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon, I vow,
That tips with silver all these tree tops.

Jul. Oh! swear not by the moon, the inconstant
moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Rom. What shall I swear by?

Jul. Do not swear at all;

Or, if thou wilt; swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee.

sweet, good night!

Rom. Oh! wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction can'st thou have to night?
Rom. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow
for mine.

Jul. I gave thee mine, before thou didst request it; And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it?-For what purpose, love?

Jul. But to be frank, I give it thee again.

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.

*Id est, bounty and love. Mark the false (but womanish) philosophy of this.