Difplant a town, reverfe a prince's doom;
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.

Fri. O, then I fee that madmen have no ears. Rom. How fhould they, when that wife men have no eyes?

Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy estate.

Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doating like me, and like me banished,

Then might'ft thou fpeak, then might'ft thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground as I do now,

Taking the meafure of an unmade grave.

Fri. Arife; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thy

felf. [Knock within. Rom. Not I; unlefs the breath of heart-fick groans, Mift-like, infold me from the fearch of eyes.

[Knock. Fri. Hark, how they knock !-Who's there?

Romeo, arife.

Thou wilt be taken-Stay a while :-stand up:

[Knocks. Run to my ftudy-By and by :-God's will! What wilfulness is this?-I come, I come. [Knock. Who knocks fo hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Nurfe. [Within.] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand :

I come from lady Juliet.

Fri. Welcome then.

Enter Nurfe.

Nurfe. O holy Friar, oh, tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo?

Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears

made drunk.

Nurfe.

Nurse. O he is even in my mistress' case, Juft in her cafe-O woful fympathy! Piteous predicament! even fo lies the,

Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, ftand up :- Stand, an' you be a man: For Juliet's fake, for her fake, rise and stand.

2 Why should you fall into fo deep an O?

Rom. Nurfe!

Nurfe. Ah Sir! ah Sir!-Death is the end of all. Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her? Doth not the think me an old murderer,

Now I have ftain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?
Where is the? and how does' fhe? and what says
My conceal'd lady to our 3 cancell❜d love?
Nurfe. O, fhe fays nothing, Sir; but weeps

weeps;

And now falls on her bed, and then ftarts up,
And Tybalt cries; and then on Romeo calls,
And then down falls again.

Rom. As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

and

Did murder her, as that name's curfed hand
Murder'd her kinfman.-O tell me, Friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may fack
The hateful manfion.

Fri. Hold thy defperate hand.

[Drawing his fword.

Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art :
Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beaft:

+ Unseemly woman in a feeming man!

2 SO HANMER. The other editions read,

3

And

Why should you fall into fo deep an ob? JOHNSON.
-cancell'd love?] The folio reads conceal'd love.
JOHNSON.

The quarto reads, cancell'd love. STEEVENS.
Unfeemly woman, &c.] This ftrange nonfenfe Mr. Pope

throw

1

And ill-befeeming beaft in feeming both!
Thou haft amaz'd me. By my holy order,
I thought thy difpofition better temper❜d.
Haft thou flain Tybalt? wilt thou flay thyself?
And flay thy lady, that in thy life lives,
By doing damned hate upon thyfelf?

Why rail'ft thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth,
Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do

meet

In thee at once, which thou at once wouldft lofe?
Fie, fie! thou fham'ft thy fhape, thy love, thy wit;
Which, like an ufurer, abound'ft in all,

And useft none in that true ufe indeed,
Which should bedeck thy fhape, thy love, thy wit.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digreffing from the valour of a man:
Thy dear love, fworn, but hollow perjury,
Killing that love, which thou haft vow'd to cherish.
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Mif-fhapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skill-lefs foldier's flafk,
Is fet on fire by thine own ignorance,

5 And thou difmember'd with thine own defence.
What, roufe thee, man, thy Juliet is alive,
For whofe dear fake thou waft but lately dead:
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,

threw out of his edition for defperate. But it is easily restored as Shakespeare wrote it into good pertinent fenfe.

Unfeemly woman in a feeming man!

AN ill-bejeeming beaft in seeming GROTH!

i. e. you have the ill-befeeming paffions of a brute beaft in the well-feeming fhape of a rational creature. For having in the first line faid, he was a woman in the fhape of a man, he aggravates the thought in the fecond, and fays, he was even a brute in the fhape of a rational creature. Seeming is ufed in both places for feemly. WARBURTON.

The old reading is probable. Thou art a beaft of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a man. JOHNSON. 5. And thou dijmember'd with thine own defence.] And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons. JOHNSON.

But

But thou flew'st Tybalt; there too art thou happy.
The law, that threatned death, becomes thy friend,
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
A pack of bleffings light upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her beft array,
But, like a misʼhav'd and a fullen wench,
Thou pout'ft upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for fuch die miferable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Afcend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
But, look, thou ftay not 'till the watch be set;
For then thou canst not pafs to Mantua;
Where thou fhalt live, 'till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy,
Than thou went'ft forth in lamentation.

Go before, Nurfe. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her haften all the houfe to bed,
Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto,
Romeo is coming 5.

Nurfe. O Lord, I could have ftaid here all the night,

To hear good counfel. Oh, what learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom. Do fo, and bid my fweet prepare to chide. Nurfe. Here, Sir, a ring the bid me give you, Sir: Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence. Good night. And here ftands 6 all your ftate ;

Either begone before the watch be fet,

Much of this laft fpeech has likewise been added fince the first edition. STEEVENS.

Go bence. Good night, &c.] These three lines are omitted in all the modern editions. JoHNSON.

7

here ftands all your fate ;] The whole of your fortune depends on this. JOHNSON,

Or

Or by the break of day, difguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
And he fhall fignify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here.

Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell. Good night,
Rom. But that a joy, paft joy, calls out on me,

It were a grief, fo brief to part with thee:
Farewell.

8 SCENE

A room in Capulet's boufe.

IV.

Enter Capulet, lady Capulet, and Paris.

[Exeunt.

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

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

Par. Thefe times of woe afford no time to woo. Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to

morrow;

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

Cap. 9 Sir Paris, I will make a desperate 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;

SCENE IV. Some few unneceffary verfes are omitted in this fcene according to the oldeft editions. POPE.

Thefe verfes are fuch as will by no means connect with the laft and most improved copy of the play. STEEVENS.

9 Sir Paris, I will make a DESPERATE tender

Of my child's love. -] Desperate means only bold, advent'rous, as if he had faid in the vulgar phrafe, I will speak a bold ver, and venture to premife you my daughter.

JOHNSON.
Acquaint