Why, silver sound? why, musick with her silver sound? What say you, Simon Catling?1

1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?2

́2 Mus. I say-silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Pet. Pretty too!-What say you, James Soundpost? 3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say.

Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I will say for you. It is musick with her silver sound, because such fellows as you3 have seldom gold for sounding:

Then musick with her silver sound,

With speedy help doth lend redress.

[Exit, singing. 1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same? 2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we 'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt.

Another copy of this song is published by Dr. Percy, in the first volume of his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Steevens.

9 And doleful dumps the mind oppress.] This line I have recovered from the old copy [1597]. It was wanting to complete the stanza as it is afterwards repeated. Steevens.

* Mr. Steevens, in a note on The Two Gentlemen of Verona, (See Vol. II, p. 205, n. 6,) gives the music of A Dompe of the Sixteenth Century. Am. Ed.

1

Simon Catling?] A catling was a small lute-string made of catgut. Steevens.

In An historical account of Taxes under all Denominations in the Time of William and Mary, p. 336, is the following article: "For every gross of catlings and lutestring," &c. A. C.

2 Hugh Rebeck?] The fidler is so called from an instrument with three strings, which is mentioned by several of the old writers. Rebec, rebecquin. See Menage, in v. Rebec. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle: " 'Tis present death for these fidlers to tune their rebecks before the great Turk's grace." In England's Helicon, 1600, is The Shepherd Arsilius, his Song to his REBECK, by Bar. Yong. Steevens.

It is mentioned by Milton, as an instrument of mirth:

3

"When the merry bells ring round,
"And the jocund rebecks sound

because such fellows as you-] Thus the quarto, 1597. The others read—because musicians. I should suspect that a fid

ACT VA..... SCENE I.

Mantua. A Street.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,* My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;

4 Act V.] The Acts are here properly enough divided, nor did any better distribution than the editors have already made, occur to me in the perusal of this play; yet it may not be improper to remark, that in the first folio, and I suppose the foregoing editions are in the same state, there is no division of the Acts, and therefore some future editor may try, whether any improvement can be made, by reducing them to a length more equal, or interrupting the action at more proper intervals. Johnson.

5 If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,] Thus the earliest copy, meaning, perhaps, if I may trust to what I saw in my sleep. The folio reads:

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep; which is explained, as follows, by Dr Johnson.

Steevens.

The sense is, If I may trust the honesty of sleep, which I know however not to be so nice as not often to practise flattery. Johnson. The sense seems rather to be-"If I may repose any confidence in the flattering visions of the night."

Whether the former word ought to supercede the modern one, let the reader determine: it appears to me, however, the most intelligible of the two.

Steevens.

The

If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,] i. e. If I may confide in those delightful visions which I have seen while asleep. precise meaning of the word flattering here, is ascertained by a former passage in Act II:

66

all this is but a dream,

"Too flattering-sweet to be substantial."

By the eye of sleep Shakspeare, I think, rather meant the visual power, which a man asleep is enabled, by the aid of imagination, to exercise, than the eye of the god of sleep. Malone.

6 My bosom's lord —] So, in King Arthur, a Poem, by R. Chester, 1601:

"That neither Uter nor his councell knew

"How his deepe bosome's lord the dutchess thwarted." The author, in a marginal note, declares, that by bosom's lord, he means- -Cupid. Steevens.

My bosom's lord-] These three lines are very gay and pleasing. But why does Shakspeare give Romeo this involuntary cheerfulness just before the extremity of unhappiness? Perhaps to show the vanity of trusting to those uncertain and casual ex

And, all this day, an unaccustom❜d spirit

Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;

(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to think,)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.

Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy?
Enter BALTHASAR.

News from Verona!-How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet?7 That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,3
And her immortal part with angels lives;
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir

altations or depressions, which many consider as certain fore-tokens of good and evil. Johnson.

The poet has explained this passage himself a little further on: "How oft, when men are at the point of death,

"Have they been merry? which their keepers call
"A lightning before death."

Again, in G. Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576:

66

a lightning delight against his souden destruction."

Steevens.

7 How fares my Juliet?] So the first quarto. That of 1599, and the folio, read:

8

How doth my lady Juliet? Malone.

in Capel's monument,] Thus the old copies; and thus Gascoigne, in his Flowers, p. 51:

66 Thys token whych the Mountacutes did beare alwaies, so that

"They covet to be knowne from Capels, where they passe, "For ancient grutch whych long ago 'tweene these two houses was. 39 Steevens.

Shakspeare found Capel and Capulet used indiscriminately in the poem which was the ground work of this tragedy. For Capels' monument the modern editors have substituted Capulet's monument. Malone.

Not all of them. The edition preceding Mr. Malone's does not, en this occasion, differ from his. Reed.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!o. Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus:1 Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

Rom.

Tush, thou art deceiv'd;

Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

Bal. No, my good lord.
Rom.
No matter: Get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.

[Exit BAL.

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to night.
Let's see for means:-0, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,

And hereabouts he dwells-whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meager were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins

9---- I defy you, stars!] The first quarto-I defy my stars. The folio reads-deng you, stars. The present and more animated reading is picked out of both copies. Steevens

The quarto of 1599, and the folio, read—I deny you, stars.

Malone.

1 Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus:] This line is taken from the quarto, 1597 The quarto, 1609, and the folio, read: I do beseech you, sir, have patience. Steevens. So also the quarto, 1599. Malone

2 An alligator stuff'd,] It appears from Nashe's Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1596, that a stuff'd alligator, in Shakspeare's time, made part of the furniture of an apothecary's shop: "He made (says Nashe) an anatomie of a rat, and after hanged her over his head, instead of an apothecary's crockodile, or dried alligator." Malone.

I was many years ago assured, that formerly, when an apothecary first engaged with his druggist, he was gratuitously furnished by him with these articles of show, which were then imported for that use only. I have met with the alligator, tortoise, &c. hanging up in the shop of an ancient apothecary at Limehouse, as well as in places more remote from our metropolis. See Hogarth's Marriage Alamode, Plate III-It may be remarked, however, that the apothecaries dismissed their alligators, &c. sometime

Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,3

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
What, ho! apothecary!

Ap.

Enter Apothecary.

Who calls so loud?

Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have

A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer
As will disperse through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;

And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd

Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law

Is death, to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,5

before the physicians were willing to part with their amber-headed canes and solemn periwigs Steevens.

3 A beggarly account of empty boxes,] Dr. Warburton would read, a braggartly account; but beggarly is probably right; if the boxes were empty, the account was more beggarly, as it was more pompous. Johnson.

4 An if a man &c.] This phraseology which means simply-If, was not unfrequent in Shakspeare's time and before. Thus, in Lodge's Illustrations, Vol. I, p. 85: "—meanys was maid unto me to see an yf I would appoynt" &c. Reed.

5 Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,] The first quarto reads:

And starved famine dwelleth in thy cheeks. The quartos, 1599, 1609, and the folio: