Enter Prince, with attendants. - Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace, Caft by their grave, befeeming, ornaments; Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace. [Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c. La. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach ; Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began ? Ben. Here were the fervants of your adversary, And yours, clofe fighting, ere I did approach;, I drew to part them: In the inftant came The fiery Tybalt, with his fword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He fwung about his head, and cut the winds :. Who, nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn. While we were interchanging thrufts and blows, Came more and mere, and fought on part and part,. Till the Prince came, who parted either part. La.. La. Mon. O where is Romeo! Saw you him to-day? Right-glad am I, he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd Sun (2) Tow'rds him I made; but he was 'ware of me, Mon. Many a morning hath he there been feen Should, in the fartheft east, begin to draw (2) -an hour before the worshipp'd Sun Peer'd through the golden window of the East, A troubled mind drew me from company:] This is a reading only of Mr. Pope's, as far as I can trace, who had a mind to make Benvolio a greater rake than we have reason to think him from any subfequent inftance. What, in company an hour before daylight? What odd kind of companions muft this Benvolio have conforted with? This reading very reasonably feduced Mr. Warburton into an inge nious conjecture; A troubled mind drew me from canopy: i. e. from bed. But I have reftor'd the text of all the old copies. Benvolio, being troubled and not able to sleep, rose an hour before day, and went into the open air to amuse himself. (3) Purfued my bumour, not pursuing his.] But Benvolio did pursue bis; for Romeo had a mind to be alone, fo had Benvolio: and therefore as Dr. Thirlby accurately observes, we ought to correct, He did not purfue Romeo. Black and portentous muft this humour prove, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the caufe Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,. Enter Romeo. Ben. See, where he comes: fo please you, ftep afide I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd. Mon. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy stay To hear true fhrift: Come, Madam, let's away. [Exeunt.Ben. Good morrow, cousin.. Rom. Is the day so young? Ben. But new ftruck nine.. Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long! (4) As is the bud, bit with an envious worm, Ere be can spread his fweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the fame.] To the fame ?Sure, all the lovers of Shakespeare and poetry will agree, that this is a very idle, dragging parapleromatic, as the grammarians ftyle it. But our Author generally in his fimilies is accurate in the cloathing of them, and therefore, I believe, would not have overcharg'd this fo infipidly. When we come to confider, that there is fome power elfe befides balmy air, that brings forth, and makes the tender buds spread themselves, I do not think it improbable that the Poet wrote 3 Or dedicate bis beauty to the fun. Or, according to the more obfolete fpelling, funne; which brings it nearer to the traces of the corrupted text. I propos'd this conjectural ementation in the Appendix to my SHAKESPEARE Reftor'd, and Mr. Fode has embraced it in his laft edition. Ben. It was: what fadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them Ben. In love? Rom. Out Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof! [fhort. Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled ftill, Should without eyes fee path-ways to his will! Where fhall we dine ?-O me!-What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love: O heavy lightness! ferious vanity! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Doft thou not laugh? Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? Ben. At thy good heart's oppreffion. Ram. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Ber. Soft, I'll go along. [Going. And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong. Rom. Rom. What, fhall I groan and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why, no; but fadly tell me, who. Ban. I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. That when the dies, with her dies Beauty's ftore. (5)) She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers (exquifite) in queftion more: I hofe happy mafks, that kifs fair ladies' brows, (5) That, when he dies, with beauty dies her ftore.] This conveys. no fatisfactory idea to me. I have ventur'd'at a flight tranfpofition, which gives a meaning, warranted, I think, by what Rome fays in his very next speech. She is rich in beauty, and if the dies a maid, the cuts off that beauty from its fucceffion. For beauty, farv'd with her feverity, He |