« PreviousContinue »
Tickling the parson as he lies asleep;
Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometimes the driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign-throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ears, at which he ttarts and wakes ;
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And cakes the elf-locks in foul fluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs;
That preffes them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage:
This is she-
Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace : : Thou talk'st of nothing.
Somnia quæ mentes, &c.
When in our dreams the forms of things arise,
In mimic order plac'd before our eyes,
Nor heav'n, nor hell the airy vision sends,
But every breast its own delusion lends.
For when soft sleep the body lays at ease,
And from the heavy mass the fancy frees :
Whate'er it is in which we take delight,
And think of most by day, we dream at night :-
Thus he who shakes proud ftates, and cities burns,
Sees showers of darts, forc'd lines, disorder'd wings,
Fields drown'd in blood, and obsequies of kings :
The lawyer dreams of terms and double fees,
And trembles when he long vacations sees :
The miser hides his wealth, new treasure finds;
In echoing woods his horn the huntsman winds:
The sailors dream a shipwreck'd chance describes,
The whore writes billet-doux ; th' adult'ress bribes :
The op'ning dog the tim'rous hare pursues,
And misery in Neep its pains renews.
Mer. True, I talk of dreams;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing, but vain phantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more unconstant than the wind; who wooes
Ev'n now the frozen bofom of the north,
And being angerd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Scene VI. A Beauty describd.
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 shews a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
(3) The Courtship between Romeo and Juliet in the
Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a woundBut soft, what light thro' yonder window breaks?
(3) Thc, &c.] The elegance and natural simplicity of this scene is enough to recommend it, and must render it agreeable to every reader who hath any taite for tenderness, delicacy, and sincere affection : but when we have feen it so justly performed, and so beautifully graced by some of the best and most judicious actors that ever appeared on any stage, we shall want no comment to enter into its particular excellencies, no chart to guide us to those beauties which all must have sensibly felí, on hearing them so feelingly and pathetically expreft, in their own bofoms. The Reader will find fome remarks in the After on this celebrated scene.
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun !
[Juliet appears above at a window,
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already, fick and pale with grief,
That thou, her inaid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious :
Her vestal livery is but fick and green,
And none but fools do wear it, cast it off-
She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it-
I am too bold, 'tis not to me the speaks :
Two of the fairest itars of all the heav'n,
Having some business do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head ?
The brightness of her cheek would fame those stars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n,
Would through the airy region stream fo bright,
That birds would fing, and think it were not night,
See how she leans her cheek
her hand, O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!
Jul. Ah me!
Rom. She speaks.
Oh speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this (4) fight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger from heav'n,
Unto the white up-turn'd wand'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon the bofom of the air.
ful. O Romeo, Romeo,--wherefore art thou Romeo !
Deny thy father and refuse thy name:
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
(4) Sight, Mr. Tkebald, vuilg. Night.
Jul. 'Tis but 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 callid,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title; Romeo, quit thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
Rom. I take thee at thy word :
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd,
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou that thus bescreen d in night
So stumblest on my counsel.
Rom. By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee.
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
Jul. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the found.
-Art thou not Romeo, and a Mountague ?
Rom. Neither, fair saint, it either thee displease.
Jul. How cam'lt thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb, And the place death, confidering who thou art, If any of my
kinsinen find thee here.
Rom. (5) With love's light wings did I o'er-perch
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do, that dares love attempt :
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye,
(5) With, &c.]Which when th' arch felon law,
Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt,
At one flight bound, high over- eap'd all bounds
Of hill, or highest wall, and Theer within
lig'its on his feet. See Parad. Loft. B. iv. V. 179.
Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.
Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee here.
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their
And but thou love me, let them find me here;
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Ful. By whose direction found'it thou out this place ?
Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire, He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes: I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far As that vaft fhore, wash'd with the farthest fea, I would adventure for such merchandize.
Juliet. Thou know'st the majk of night is on my face, Elfe would a maiden blush bepaint iny 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 farewel compliment : Doft thou love me? I know thou wilt say, ay, And I will take thy word-yet if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; (6) at lover's perjuries They say fove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo, If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully! Or if thou think I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world. In truth, fair Mountague, I am too fond; And therefore thou mayit think my 'haviour light:
(6) At lovers, &c.] This, as Mr. Theobald has obferved, our author probably borrowed either from Ovid or Tibullus.
Jupiter ex alto perjuria ridut amantum.
At lovers' perjuries Jove laughs.
Ovid. de art. ametiko
-Perjuria ridet amantum
Jupiter, & ventos irrita ferre jubet.
Tibul. I. 3. C. 70
At lovers' perjuries Jove laughs away,
And bids the winds the idle tales convey,