But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, more. b At my poor house, look to behold this night Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel And like her most, whose merit most shall be: My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned :-In good time. "Earth-treading stars that make dark even light." Monck Mason would read, "Earth-treading stars that make dark, heaven's light," that is, stars that make the light of heaven appear dark in comparison with them. It appears to us unnecessary to alter the original reading, and especially as passages in the masquerade scene would seem to indicate that the banqueting room opened into a garden-as, "Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night." So the folio and (C), with the exception of one for on. (4), Such, amongst view of many. Take thou some new infection to the eye, Rom. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow. Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: But I pray, can you read anything you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the lan Rom. Whither to supper på Serv. To our house. Rom. Whose house? And these,-who, often drown'd, could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! Herself pois'd with herself in either eye: Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. Were of an age.—Well, Susan is with God; And since that time it is eleven years: : For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, Wilt thou not, Jule? and, by my holy dam, And, pretty fool, it stinted," and said-Ay. Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay: Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said—Ay. a Bear a brain. Have a memory-a common expression.. b It stinted. It stopped. Thus Gascoigne,— "Then stinted she as if her song were done." To stint is used in an active signification for to stop. Thus in those fine lines in Titus Andronicus, which it is difficult to believe any other than Shakspere wrote, "The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby, What a picture of a despot in his intervals of self satisfying, forbearance. Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Nurse. An honour!* were not I thine only Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax. La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. La. Cap. What say you? can you love the gentleman ? 13 This night you shall behold him at our feast: La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep wil I endart mine eye, Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. So (A). The folio and (C) have hour, both in Juliet's and the Nurse's speeches. b The next seventeen lines are wanting in (A). c (B), married; which reading has been adopted by Steevens and Malone, in preference to severul, in the folio and (C). Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.—Juliet, the county stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.A Street. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or Six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology? 14 Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,1a Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance: * But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, 15 and be gone. Rom. Give me a torch,16-I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink. Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love: Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough a A visor for a visor!-what care I But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; 17 Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, 18 the constable's If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Of this, sir reverence, 19 love, wherein thou stick'st Up to the ears.-Come, we burn daylight, ho. I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, lights, lights, by day. Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits Mer. Rom. Well, what was yours? 1 And so did I. That dreamers often lie. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things true. Mer. O, then, I see queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes Time out o' mind the fairies' coach makers. On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, A suit. A court solicitation was called a suit;-a process, a suit at law. b It is desirable to exhibit the first draft of a performance so exquisitely finished as this celebrated description, in which every word is a study. And yet it is curious, that in the quarto of 1609, and in the folio (from which we print), and in both of which the corrections of the author are apparent, the whole speech is given as if it were prose. The original quarto of 1597 gives the passage as follows:"Ah then I see queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and doth come In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of a burgomaster, Drawne with a team of little atomy, Athwart men's noses when they lie asleep. Her waggon spokes are made of spinners' webs. The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces are the moon-shine watery beams, The collars cricket bones, the lash of films. Her waggoner is a small gray-coated fly Not half so big as is a little worm, Picked from the lazy finger of a maid. And in this sort she gallops up and down Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love, O'er courtiers' knees, who strait on courtesies dream: O'er ladies' lips who dream on kisses strait, Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometimes she gallops o'er a lawyer's lap. And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace, Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Kom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, [Exeunt. Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well. By 'r lady, thirty years. 1 Cap. What, man! 't is not so much, 't is not so much: "Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd. 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 't is more: his son is elder, sir; His son is thirty. 1 Cap. Will you tell me that P His son 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! d Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Thus (4). (C) and folio, walk about. b This passage, to "More light, ye knaves," is wanting in (4). c Good cousin Capulet. The word cousin, in Shakspere, was applied to any collateral relation of whatever degree; thus we have in this play "Tybalt, my cousin, Oh my brother's child." Richard the Third calls his nephew York, cousin, while the boy calls Richard, uncle. In the same play York's grandmother calls him cousin, while he replies grandam. d Her beauty hangs. All the ancient editions which can be considered authorities-the four quartos and the first folioread It seems she hangs. The reading of her beauty is from |