Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

2

Enter Servants. i Serv, : Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two mens' hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing

i Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the

court-cupboard, look to the plate : good thou, · 3 save me a piece of march-pane ; and, as thou lovest

me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell. -Antony! and Potpan!

2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.

I Serv. You are look'd for, and callid for, ask'd for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

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

[Exeunt.

2

1 This scene is added since the first copy. Steevens.

-court-cupboard,] I am not very certain that I know the exact fignification of court-cupboard. Perhaps it is what we call at present the fide-board. It is however frequently mentioned in the old plays : fo in a Humorous Day's Mirth, 1599; " hadow these tables with their white veils, and accomplish “ the court-cupboard.—Again, in Mons. D'Olize, 1606, by Chapman ;

“ Here shall stand my court-cupboard.Steevens. 3 Save me a piece of march-pane ;) March-pane was a confe&tion made of Pillacho-nuts, alınends, and sugar, &c. and in hig! eneem in Shakespeare's tire; as appears from the account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainment in Cambridge. It is said that the university presented Sir William Cecil their chancellor with two pair of gloves, 2 inarch-pane, and two sugarloaves. Peck's Difiera a Curiosa, vel. ii. p. 29. Dr. GRAY.

Enter

Enter Capulet, the Guests and Ladies, with the Maskers. i Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies, that have

their feet
Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you.
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 you now?
You are 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: 4 You are welcome, gentlemen. Come, musicians, play. SA hall ! a hall! Give room. And foot it, girls.

[Musick plays, and they dance. More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, 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 7 our dancing days :

'Tis gone,

- You're welcome, gentlemen.] These two lines, cmitted by the modern editors, I have replaced froin the folio. Johnson.

SA hall! a hall!] Such is the old reading, and the true one, though the modern editors read, A ball ? aball! The former exclamation occurs frequently in the old comedies, and fignifies, make room.-Soin the comedy of Doctor Dodypoll, 1600,

“ Room! room!. a hell! a ball !Again in B. Jonson's Tale of a Tub,

-Then cry, a hell! a boll!
'Tis merry in Tottenham-hall, when beards wag

all."

SreEVENS. good cousin Caful,] This coufin Capulet is unkle in the paper of invitation ; but as Capulet is described as old, cowlin is probably the right word in both places. I know not how Capulet and his lady might agree, their ages were very disproportionate; he has been pafi making for thirty years, and her age, as she tells Juliet, is but eight-and-twenty. JOHNSON.

our dancing days :) Thus the folio: the quarto reads, “ our fanding days." STEVENS.

6

7

[blocks in formation]

How long is't now, since last yourself and I
Were in a mask ?

2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years.
i Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so

much; 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecoft as quickly as it will, Some five-and-iwenty years; and then we mask'd.

2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, Sir; His son is thirty.

i Cap. 8 Will you tell me that? His fon was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?

Serv. I know not, Sir.

Rom. O she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So thews 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 liers, make happy my rude hand. Did my heart love 'till now? forswear it, fight; I never saw true beauty 'till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :
Fetch me my rapier, boy.- What! dares the Nave
Come bither cover'd with an antick face,
To fieer and scorn at our solemnity ?
This speech fands thus in the first copy:

Will you tell me that it cannot be so ?
His son was but a ward three years ago ;

Good youth's i'faith. Ch, youth's a jolly thing: There are many trifiing variations in almost erery speech of this play; but when they are of little consequence I have foreborn to encu's her the page by the insertion of them. The lait, however, of these three lines is natural, and worth preferving. STEEVENS.

Now,

[ocr errors]

Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storin

you fo?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:
A villain, that is hither come in spight,
To scorn at our folemnity this night.

Cap. Young Romeo, is't?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz’, let him alone;
He bears him like a portly gentleman ;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him,
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this 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,
Shew a fair presence, and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeining femblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest :
I'll not endure him.

Cap. He shall be endur'd.
What, goodman boy !-I say, he shall. ---Go to-
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 fit cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man !

Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

Cap. Go to, go to,
You are a faucy 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 :-9 You are a princox, go:

? You are a princox, go :-) A princox is a coxcomb, a conceited person.

The word is used by Ben Jonson in The Case is alter'd, 1609 ; by Chapman in his comedy of May-Day, 1610; and indeed

by

.

C4

Be quiet, or—More light, more light, for shame.-
I'll make you quiet What! cheerly, my hearts.

Tyb. ' 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.
Rcir. 2 If I profane with my unworthy hand

(TO Juliet.
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this-
My lips, two blu hing pilgrims, ready stand,

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jul. Good pilgriin, you do wrong your hand too

much,
Which mannerly devotion shews in this ;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palın to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Ful. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Rom. O then, dear faint, let lips do what hands do :

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers' sake.
Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I

take: Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd.

[Kising her.

[ocr errors]

hy most of the old dramatick writers. Cotgrave renders un jeune estoudeau superbe--a young princox boy. STEEVENS.

· Patience perforce,] This expreifion is in part proverbial : the old adage is,

Patience perforce is a medicine for a mad dog." Steev. ? If I profans with my unworthy hand

This holy prine, the gentle sin is this,

My lips, iwo blushing pilgrims, &c.) All profanations are supposed to be expiated either by some meritorious action, or by some penance undergone and punishment submitted to.

So Romeo would here fay, If I have been profane in the rude touch of iny hand, my lips fand ready, as two blushing pilgrims, to take off that offence, to atone for it by a sweet penance.

Our
poet

therefore must have wrote,
the gentle fire is this. WARPURTOX.

Jul.

« AnteriorContinuar »