(1) SCENE II.-Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.] So the old copies, and rightly. Malone appears to have been the first who adopted the punctuation, since invariably followed, of placing the comma after "though,"

"Thou art thyself though, not a Montague." "Juliet," he remarks, "is simply endeavouring to account for Romeo's being amiable and excellent, though he is a Montague; and, to prove this, she asserts that he merely bears that name, but has none of the qualities of that house." Nothing can be more foreign to her meaning. Her imagination is powerfully excited by the intelligence she has just received,

"His name is Romeo, and a Montague!"

In that name she sees an insurmountable impediment to her new-formed wishes, and in the fancied apostrophe to her lover, she eloquently implores him to abandon it,"Deny thy father, and refuse thy name.

*

"Tis but thy name, that is my enemy;-
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."

That is, as she afterwards expresses it, you would still retain all the perfections which adorn you, were you not called Montague.

"What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot," &c.
"O be some other name."

One is puzzled to conceive a difficulty in appreciating the meaning, especially as the thought is repeated immediately after,

"What's in a name? that which we call a rose,

By any other word would smell as sweet."

The same idea occurs in Sir Thomas Overbury's poem of "A Wife,"

"Things were first made, then words; she were the same With, or without, that title or that name."

O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!] The tassel, or, more correctly, the tiercel, is the male of the gosshawk, and had the epithet gentle annexed to it from its docility and attachment to man. According to some authorities, the tiercel derives its name from being a tierce, or third, less than the female; but Tardif, in his "Treatise of Falconry," says it is so called from being one of three birds generally found in the aerie of a falcon, two of which are females, and the third a male: hence called tiercelet, or the third. This species of hawk was in high esteem; for the old books on the sport, which show that certain hawks were appropriated to certain ranks of society, tell us the falcon gentle and tiercel gentle "are for a prince."

(4) SCENE III. With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers.] Farmer has remarked, that Shakespeare, on his

introduction of Friar Laurence, propares us for the part he is afterwards to sustain; for, having thus early dis covered him to be a chemist, we are not surprised when we find him furnishing the draught which produces the catastrophe of the piece.

(5) SCENE IV.-More than prince of cals, I can tell you.] Tibert, Tybert, or Tybalt, are forms of the ancient name Thibault. When or why the cat was first so called it is, perhaps, hopeless now to inquire. The earliest instance cited by the commentators, is in the old story-book of "Reynard the Fox,"-" Then the King called for Sir Tibert, the cat, and said to him, Sir Tibert, you shall go to Reynard, and summon him the second time."-Ch. vi. : and the association was evidently not uncommon; for Ben Jonson speaks of cats as tiberts. Decker, too, in his "Satiromastix," 1602, says:—

"tho' you were Tybert, the long-tail'd prince of cats." And Nash, in "Have with You to Saffron Walden," 1598:"Not Tibalt, prince of cats."

(6) SCENE IV.-A duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house,-of the first and second cause: Ak, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay!] Mercutio's mockery is not directed against the practice of duelling in the abstract, for he appears to be almost as pugnacious as the fiery Tybalt himself. He is ridiculing the professors and alumni of those academies established in London during the latter part of the 16th century, for the study of "The Noble Science of Defence," as it was called. A class who appear to have prided themselves on the punctilious observance of certain absurd forms and an affected diction, which had been rendered fashionable by the treatises of Saviolo* and Caranza. The plainest and most obvious meaning of the words "A gentleman of the very first house" appears to be that Tybalt was a gentleman-scholar "of the very first house" or school of fencing, of the greatest teacher existing at the period. In George Silver's Paradoxes of Defence, London, 1599, quarto, it is stated that there were three "Italian Teachers of Offence;" the first of whom was Signior Rocco, who had come into England about thirty years before. "He disbursed a great summe of mony for the lease of a house in Warwicke-lane, which he called his colledge, for he thought it a great disgrace for him to keepe a fence-schoole, he being then thought to be the only famous maister of the arte of armes in the whole world." "He taught none commonly under twentie, forty, fifty, or an hundred pounds." To be, therefore, a gentle man of such a house as this, was really "a very ribband in the cap of youth." In the same tract occurs a curious illustration of another expression in the same speech of Mercutio:-" the very butcher of a silk button."-"One Austen Bagger, a verie tall gentleman of his handes," resolved to encounter Signior Rocco, and went to another house which he had in the Blackfriars, "and called to him in this manner: Signior Rocco, thou that art thought to be the only cunning man in the world with thy weapons; thou that takest upon thee to hit anie Englishman with a thrust upon anie button; thou that takest upon thee to come over the seas to teach the valiant noblemen and gentlemen of England to fight,-thou cowardly fellow, come out of thy house, if thou dare for thy life: I am come to fight with thee.""

(*) Practise of the Duello, in 2 books, Vinc. Saviolo, 1595, 4to.

The expression, "a gentleman of the very first house," has been, however, usually understood in a genealogical Rense; in which form it occurs also in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Women Pleased," Act I. Sc. 3:

-"A gentleman's gone then:

A gentleman o' the first house!-there's the end on't!" Warburton supposed the allusion was to Tybalt's pretending to be at the head of his family; to which Steevens objects that Capulet and Romeo were both before him; but the truth is, that neither of them at all interfered with such claim. Romeo was of the house of Capulet only by marriage with Juliet, and in the list of persons represented in the tragedy, Tybalt is called Nephew to Lady Capulet. The real heraldical reference, if that be the genuine sense of the passage, appears to have been quite overlooked. When the bearing of armorial-ensigns became reduced to a science, a series of differences was instituted, the more readily to distinguish between the arms borne by the several sons and descendants of the same family, and to show their order and consanguinity. They consisted of six small figures, called a label, crescent, mullet, martlet, annulet, and fleur-de-lis, which were always to be placed in the most prominent part of the coat-armour. These signs, borne singly, were for the sons of the original ancestors, who constituted that which heralds denominated "the First House;" the issue of those sons formed "the Second House," and carried their differences doubled, beginning with the crescent surmounted of a label, a crescent of a crescent, and so of the rest. It was ordained by Otho, Emperor of Germany, that the eldest son of the first member of the first house should be preferred in dignity before his uncle; and the same regulation was also established in France, and made to include females. Tybalt was, therefore, the eldest son of Lady Capulet's elder brother, and, without pretending to be at the head of his family, was still a gentleman descended of "the very first house."

The passado, more properly passata, meant a step forward or aside in fencing.

"If your enemy be first to strike at you, and if, at that instant, you would make him a passata or remove, it behoveth you to be very ready with your feet and hand, and, being to passe or enter, you must take heede," &c.SAVIOLO, H. 3.

The panto reverso and the hay were also Italian terms, the former meaning a back-handed stroke :

"or, in both these false thrusts, when he beateth them by with his rapier, you may, with much sodainnesse make a passata with your lefte foote, and your Dagger commanding his Rapier, you maie give him a punta, either dritta, or riversa."-SAVIOLO, K. 2.

And the latter being the exclamation hai, thou hast it, used when a thrust or blow tells; from whence Johnson supposes modern fencers, on the same occasion, cry out ka!

(7) SCENE IV.-Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done.] The wild-goose chase was a barbarous sort of horse-race, in which two horses were started together; and the rider who first got the lead compelled the other to follow him over whatever ground the foremost jockey chose to go. See Chambers' Dictionary, last edition, under the article CHASE; and Holt White's note to this passage in the Variorum Shakespeare.

R

(9) SCENE IV.-Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. is for the dog.] R, from its resemblance in sound to the growl of a dog, has, time out of mind, been known as the dog's letter; and was, therefore, a very unbefitting initial in the ear of the old woman for anything so sweet as rosemary and Romeo. The dog's letter is amusingly illustrated in a quotation Steevens has adduced from Barclay's "Ship of Fooles," 1578:

"This man malicious which troubled is with wrath, Nought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R. Though all be well, yet he none auns were hath Save the doggees letter glowming with nar, nar." And Ben Jonson, in his "English Grammar," says the dog's letter, and hurreth in the sound:"

"Sonat hic de nare caninâ
Litera."-Pers. Sat. 1.

Ris

Come to my Sunne: shine foorth, and make me faire.
Rom. All beauteous fairnes dwelleth in thine eyes.
Iul. Romeo from thine all brightnes doth arise.
Fr. Come wantons, come, the stealing houres do passe,
Defer imbracements till some fitter time,
Part for a while, you shall not be alone,

Till holy Church haue ioynd ye both in one.
Rom. Lead holy Father, all delay seemes long.
Iul. Make hast, make hast, this lingring doth vs wrong.
Fr. O, soft and faire makes sweetest worke they say.
Hast is a common hindrer in crosse way.

Exeunt omnes.

ROM. Tush, thou art deceiv'd; Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do: Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? BAL. No, my good lord. ROM. No matter: get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. [Exit BALTHASAR.

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means:-0, mischief! thou art
swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-(1)

And hereabouts he* dwells,-which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples: meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd,a and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and, about his shelves,
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.

O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

APOTH. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law

Is death, to any he that utters them.

с

ROM. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. APOTH. My poverty, but not my will, consents. ROм. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. APOTH. Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.

*

ROM. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,

Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not
sell:

I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.—
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar JOHN.

JOHN, Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter Friar LAURENCE.

LAU. This same should be the voice of friar
John.-

Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
JOHN. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,

(*) First folio, pray.

e Hangs upon thy back,-] The quarto, 1597, reads, with at least equal force of expression,

"Upon thy back hangs ragged misery."

d To associate me,-] It was the custom for each friar who had leave of absence to have a companion appointed him by the superior. In the Visitatio Notabilis de Seleburne, printed in White's "Natural History, &c. of Selborne," Wykeham enjoins the canons not to go abroad without leave from the prior, who is ordered on such occasions to assign the brother a companion, "ne suspicio sinistra vel scandalum oriatur."

Here in this city visiting the sick,

And finding him, the searchers of the town,-] It has been suggested, and seems very probable, that these lines have got transposed.

Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
LAU. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
JOHN. I could not send it,-here it is again,-
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.

LAU. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.

JOHN. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Exit.
LAU. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents :
But I will write again to Mantua,

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!

[Exit.

SCENE III-A Church-yard; in it, a monument belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch.

PAR. Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof;-*

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees † lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
(Being loose, unfirm with digging up of graves,)
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hearest something approach.
Give me those flowers: do as I bid thee, go.
PAGE. I am almost afraid to stand alone,
Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires.

PAR. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed
I strew,b-

(O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones!) Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,

C

Or wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans; The obsequies that I for thee will keep, Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave and weep. [The boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach.

What cursed foot wanders this way * to-night, To cross my obsequies, and true love's rite? What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while.

[Retires.

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a torch, mattock, &c.

ROM. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching

iron.

Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light: upon thy life I charge thee
Whate'er thou hear'st or see'st, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face:

But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring, that I must use

d

In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:-
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:
The time and my intents are savage-wild;
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

BAL. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. ROM. So shalt thou show me friendship: take thou that:

Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
BAL. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.
ROM. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to ope,

[Breaking open the door of the monument.
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
PAR. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's cousin ;-with which grief,
It is supposed, the fair creature died,-
And here is come to do some villainous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him :
[Advances.

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:

Obey, and go with me, for thou must die.
ROM. I must, indeed; and therefore came I
hither.-

Come

b

done so,
with
weep me; Past hope, past cure, past
help!

FRI. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits:
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.

JUL. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of
this,

Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.

God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,

Or
my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,d
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
"Twixt my extremes and me, this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
FRI. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,

a At evening mass?] It is strange that Shakespeare, who on other occasions has shown a competent knowledge of the doctrines and usages of the Roman Catholic Church, should have fallen into this error. The celebration of mass, it is well known, can only take place in the forenoon of the day.

b Past cure,-] So the edition of 1597, the other copies read care. e The label to another deed,-] "The seals of deeds in our author's time were not impressed on the parchment itself on which the deed was written, but were appended on distinct slips or labels affixed to the deed."-MALONE.

d Thy long-experienc'd time,-] This scene was expanded considerably after the publication of the quarto, 1597. In that, the nine lines of this speech from the first couplet are all wanting. e of yonder tower;] This is the reading of the quarto, 1597. The subsequent old copies have "any tower."

f A dead man in his shroud;] Shroud is supplied from the andated quarto, the word having dropped out in the editions of

Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry county Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself;
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it;
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.

JUL. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;"
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless sculls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,

And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;* Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;

And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
FRI. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give

consent

To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this phial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off: (1)
When, presently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress,
but surcease,
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy § eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts || up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall, stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death:
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then (as the manner of our country is,) (2)
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,'