Enter Lady CAPOLET.
Lady C. Why, how now, Juliet ?
Jul.

Madam, I am not well.
Lady C. Evermore weeping for your cousin's

death? What! wilt thou wash him from his grave with

tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live; Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of

love ; But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
Lady C. So shall you feel the loss, but not the

friend
Which you weep for. .
Jul.

Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. Lady C. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so mucb

for his death,
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

Jul. What villain, madam ?
Lady C.

That same villain, Romeo
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
God pardon bim! I do with all my heart ;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
Lady C. That is, because the traitor murderer

lives. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my

hands. Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! Lady C. We will have vengeance for it, fear

thou not : Then, weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,Where that same bauish'd runagate doth live,-.

Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,"
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company ;
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him — dead -
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd. --
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it ;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. – O! how my heart abhors
To hear bim nam’d, — and cannot come to him, —
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt"?
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him !
Lady C. Find thou the means, and I'll find such

a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
Lady C. Well, well, thou hast a careful father,

child ;
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.

Jul. Madam, in happy time,'3 what day is that?
Lady C. Marry, my child, early next Thursday

morn,
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,

i So all the old copies but the first quarto, which reads thus :

That should bestow on him so sure a draught." This reading, with should changed to shall, bas been commonly adopted in the modern text.

12 In this line, Tyball was first supplied in the folio of 163% It improves the metre, though nowise necessary to the sense.

H.

The county Paris," at St. Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too.
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet ; and, when I do, I swear
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. — These are news indeed !
Lady C. Here comes your father ; tell him so

yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter CAPULET and the Nurse.
Cap. When the sun sets, the earth doth drizzle

dew ; 16
But, for the sunset of my brother's son,
It rains downright. -
How now! a conduit," girl ? what! still in tears ?
Evermore showering ? In one little body
Thou counterfeit’st a bark, a sea, a wind ;
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,

14 County, or countie, was the usual term for an earl in Shakespeare's time. Paris is in this play first styled a young earle.

15 In Mr. Collier's second folio, the words, “These are news indeed!” are transferred to Lady Capulet, and made a part of the next speech. The change, though not necessary to the sense, seems well worthy of being considered.

H. 16 This is scientifically true ; though, poetically, it would scem better to read air instead of earth. And, in fact, some modern editions do read air, alleging the undated quarto as authority for it; but such, it seems, is not the case. A line has been justly quoted from The Rape of Lucrece as supporting earth : “But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set."

H. 17 The same image, which was in frequent use with Shake. speare's contemporaries, occurs in Brooke's poem : “ His sighs are stopt, and stopped in the conduit of bis tears."

Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this salt food; the winds, thy sighs ;
Who, – raging with thy tears, and they with them, -
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. – How now, wife !
Have you deliver'd to her our decree ?
Lady C. Ay, sir ; but she will none, she gives

you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave ! Cap. Soft! take me with you, take me with you,

wife.'8 How! will she none ? doth she not give us thanks! Is she not proud ? doth she not count her bless'd, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom ? Jul. Not proud you have, but thankful that you

have : Proud can I never be of what I hate ; But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. Cap. How now! how now, chop-logic !" What

is this? Proud, — and, I thank you, — and, I thank you

not; And yet not proud :- Mistress minion, you ! Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no proude, But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,

18 That is, let me understand you ; like the Greek phrase, “ Let me go along with you.” -- Coleridge here exclaims, -"A noble scene! Don't I see it with my own eyes ? -- Yes! but not with Juliet's. And observe in Capulet's last speech in this scene his mistake, as if love's causes were capable of being generalized.”

H. 19 Capulet uses this as a nickname. “Choplogyk is he that whan his maysler rebuketh his servaunt for his defawtes, he will give him xx wordes for one, or elles he will bydde the devyller palernoster in scylence.” — The xxiii Orders of Knaves.

To go with Paris to St. Peter's church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you baggage!
You tallow face ! 20
Lady C.

Fie, fie! what! are you mad ?
Jul. Gund father, I beseech you on my knees,
llear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient

wretch!
I tell thee what, — get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face.
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch. — Wife, we scarce thought us

bless'd,
That God had sent us but this only child ;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her.
Out on her, hilding ! *1
Nurse.

God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom ? hold your

tongue, Good prudence: smatter with your gossips ; go.

Nurse. I speak no treason.
Сар.

O, God ye good den!
Nurse. May not one speak ?
Сар.

Peace, you mumbling fool !
Utter your 'gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For bere we need it not