ン We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack, the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead. Nurfe. Romeo can, Though heav'n cannot, Q Romeo! Romeo! Who ever would have thought it, Romeo? ful. What devil art thou, that doft torment me thus ? This torture fhould be roar'd in difmal hell. Hath Romeo flain himself? fay thou but, I; And that bare vowel, I, fhall poifon more (23) Nurfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes, at once! poor bankrupt, break To prifon, eyes! ne'er look on liberty; Vile earth to earth refign, end motion here, Jul. What storm is this, that blows fo contrary? Is Romeo flaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead? My dear-lov'd coufin, and my dearer lord? Then let the trumpet found the general Doom, For who is living, if thofe two are gone ? Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand fhed Tybalt's blood? (23) And that bare Vowel, ay, shall poyfon more Than the death-darting Eye of Cockatrice.] I queftion much, whether the Grammarians will take this new Vowel on Truft from Mr. Pope, without fufpecting it rather for a Dyphthong. In fhort, we must reftore the Spelling of the Old Books, or We lofe the Poet's Conceit. At his Time of day, the affirmative Adverb Ay was generally written,. 4 and by this means it both becomes a Kowels and answers in Sound to Eye, upon which the Conceit turns in the Second Line. Nurfe Nurfe. It did, it did, alas, the day! it did. Jul. O ferpent heart, hid with a flowring face, Did ever dragon keep fo fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical! Dove-feather'd raven! Wolvifh-rav'ning Lamb! (24) Juft oppofite to what thou justly feem'lt, Nurfe. There's no truft, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd; Jul. Blifter'd be thy tongue, For fuch a wifh! he was not born to fhame; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beaft was I to chide him fo? Nurfe. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your coufin? Jul. Shall I fpeak ill of him, that is my husband? (24) Ravenous Dove, feather'd Raven, Wolvifh ravening Lamb.] This paffage Mr. Pope has thrown out of the Text, partly, I prefume, because these two noble Hemiftichs are, indeed, inharmonious: [but chiefly, because they are obfcure and unintelligible at the first View.] But is there no fuch Thing as a Crutch for a labour ing, halting, Verfe? I'll venture to restore to the Poet a Line that was certainly his, that is in his own Mode of Thinking, and truly worthy of him. The first word, ravenous, I have no Doubt, was blunderingly coin'd out of Raven and ravening, which follow; and if we only throw it out, we gain at once an harmonious Verfe, and a proper Contraft of Epithets and Images. Dove-feather'd Raven! Walvish-rav'ning Lamb 1 Ah, poor my lord, what tongue fhall fmooth thy name, Like damned guilty deeds to finners minds; There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, Nurfe. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's coarse. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine fhall be fpent, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Take up thofe Cords; poor Ropes, you are beguil'd; Both You and I; for Romeo is exil'd. He made You for a high way to my Bed: But I, a Maid, dye Maiden widowed. Come, Cord; come, Nurfe; I'll to my wedding Bed: And Death, not Romeo, take my Maidenhead! Nurfe. Nurse. Hie to your chamber, I'll find Romeo To comfort you. I wot well, where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night; I'll to him, he is hid at Lawrence' cell. Jul. O find him, give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come, to take this laft farewel. Fri. R SCENE changes to the Monastery. Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo. [Exeunt. O MEO, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man; Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity. Rom. Father, what news? what is the Prince's doom? What forrow craves acquaintance at my hand, That I yet know not? Fri. Too familiar Is my dear fon with fuch fow'r company. I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom. Rom. What lefs than doons-day is the Prince's doom? Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Not body's death, but body's banishment. Rom. Ha, banishment! be merciful, fay, death; Much more than death. Do not fay, banishment. Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. Rom. There is no world without Verona's walls, Hence banished, is banifh'd from the world; Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulness ! Taking thy part, hath rufht afide the law, Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy heav'n is here, Hadft thou no Poifon mixt, no fharp-ground knife, O Friar, the Damned ufe that word in hell; Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. To comfort thee, tho' thou art banished. Rom. Yet, banished? hang up philofophy: Unless philofophy can make a Juliet, Difplant a town, reverfe a Prince's doom, It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more→→→ Rom. How fhould they, when that wife men have no eyes? Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy estate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel; Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, |