Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. [church-yard: 1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. [Exeunt some. Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;- [Exeunt other Watchmen. church-yard. Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the [hither. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come Enter another Watchman, with FRIAR LAURENCE. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and We took this mattock and this spade from him, [weeps : As he was coming from this church-yard side. 1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too. Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest? Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? Lady C. The people in the street cry-Romeo, Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man ; With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our daughter This dagger hath mista'en,-for, lo! his house Enter MONTAGUE and others. Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for awhile, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And lead you even to death: Mean time forbear, Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death You-to remove that siege of grief from her,— The form of death: mean time I writ to Romeo, Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.— Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua, To this same place, to this same monument. Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.— Where is the county's page, that rais'd the watch?— Sirrah, what made your master in this place? Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; And then I ran away to call the watch. Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.- Can I demand. Mon. But I can give thee more: For I will raise her statue in pure gold; Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; For never was a story of more woe, [Exeunt. This play is one of the most pleasing of our author's performances. The scenes are busy and various, incidents numerous and importaut, the catastrophe irresistibly affecting, and the process of the action carried on with such probability, at least with such congruity to popular opinions, as tragedy requires. Here is one of the few attempts of Shakspeare to exhibit the conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy sprightliness of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition, which might easily reach his time, of a declaration made by Shakspeare, that he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should have been killed by him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable person, but that he might have lived through the play and died in his bed, without danger to the poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in quest of truth, in a pointed sentence, that more regard is commonly had to the words than the thought, and that it is very seldom to be rigorously understood. Mercutio's wit, gaiety, and courage, will always procure him friends that wish him a longer life; but his death is not precipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of Shakspeare to have continued his existence, though some of his sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was not very fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour, but acute, argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime. The Nurse is one of the characters in which the author delighted: he has, with great subtility of distinction, drawn her at once loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest. His comic scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetic strains are always polluted with some unexpected depravations. His persons, however distressed, have a conceit left them in their misery, a miserable conceit. JOHNSON. C. Whittingham, Printer, Chiswick. |