How long is't now, fince last yourself and I
Were in a mask?

2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years.

1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not fo much, 'tis not fo much;

'Tis fince the nuptial of Lucentio,

Come Pentecoft as quickly as it will,

Some five-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd. 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his fon is elder, Sir; His fon is thirty.

1 Cap. 8 Will you tell me that?

His fon was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?

Serv. I know not, Sir.

Rom. O fhe doth teach the torches to burn bright!
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:

Beauty too rich for ufe, for earth too dear!
So fhews a fnowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows fhows.

The meafure done, I'll watch her place of ftand,
And, touching hers, make happy my rude hand.
Did my heart love 'till now? forfwear it, fight;
I never faw true beauty 'till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, fhould be a Montague :Fetch me my rapier, boy.-What! dares the flave Come bither cover'd with an antick face,

To fleer and fcorn at our folemnity?

8

This fpeech fands thus in the first copy:

Will you tell me that it cannot be fo?
His fon was but a ward three years ago;

Good youth's i'faith. Ch, youth's a jolly thing. There are many trifling variations in almost every fpeech of this play; but when they are of little confequence I have foreborn to encur ber the page by the infertion of them. The latt, however, of thefe three lines is natural, and worth preferving. STEEVENS,

Now,

Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To ftrike him dead I hold it not a fin.

Cap. Why, how now, kinfman? wherefore ftorm you fo?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:
A villain, that is hither come in fpight,
To fcorn at our folemnity this night.
Cap. Young Romeo, is't?

Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

Cap. Content thee, gentle coz', let him alone;
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to fay truth, Verona brags of him,
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this town,
Here in my houfe, do him difparagement:
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
Shew a fair prefence, and put off thefe frowns,
An ill-befeeming femblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when fuch a villain is a guest:
I'll not endure him.

Cap. He fhall be endur❜d.

What, goodman boy!-I fay, he fhall.-Go to

Am I the mafter here, or you? go to

You'll not endure him! God fhall mend my foul

You'll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will fit cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a fhame.

Cap. Go to, go to,

You are a faucy boy :-Is't fo, indeed?

This trick may chance to fcathe you.-I know whatYou must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time—

Well faid, my hearts:-9 You are a princox, go:

"You are a princox, go:

-] A princox is a coxcomb, a con

ceited perfon. The word is ufed by Ben Jonfon in The Cafe is alter'd, 1609; by Chapman in his comedy of May-Day, 1610; and indeed

I

Be quiet, or-More light, more light, for fhame.—
I'll make you quiet-What! cheerly, my hearts.
Tyb. Patience perforce, with wilful choler meeting,
my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrufion fhall,

Makes

Now feeming fweet, convert to bitter gall.
Rem. If I profane with my unworthy hand
[To Juliet.
This holy fhrine, the gentle fine is this
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand,

To fmooth that rough touch with a tender kifs. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion fhews in this;

For faints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

Rom. Have not faints lips, and holy palmers too?
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Rom. O then, dear faint, let lips do what hands do:

They pray, grant thou, left faith turn to despair.
Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers' fake.
Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I
take:

Thus from my lips, by yours, my fin is purg'd.

[Kiffing her.

by most of the old dramatick writers. Cotgrave renders un jeune eftoudeau fuperbe a young princox boy. STEEVENS.

I

Patience perforce,] This expreffion is in part proverbial: the old adage is,

"Patience perforce is a medicine for a mad dog." STEEV. 2 If I profane with my unworthy hand.

This holy forine, the gentle fin is this,

So

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, &c.] All profanations are fuppofed to be expiated either by fome meritorious action, or by fome penance undergone and punishment fubmitted to. Romeo would here fay, If I have been profane in the rude touch of my hand, my lips and ready, as two blushing pilgrims, to take off that offence, to atone for it by a sweet penance. Our poet therefore must have wrote,

the gentle fine is this. WARBURTON.

Jul.

Jul. Then have my lips the fin that they have took. Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpafs, fweetly urg'd! Give me my fin again.

Jul. You kifs by the book.

Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a word with

you.

Rom. What is her mother?

Nurfe. Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house,

[To ber nurse.

And a good lady, and a wife, and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter, that you talkt withal;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chink.

Rom. Is fhe a Capulet?

O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, fo I fear; the more is my unreft.
Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
- -Is it e'en fo? why, then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honeft gentlemen; good night :-
More torches here!Come on, then let's to bed.
Ah, firrah, by my fay, it waxes late.

I'll to my reft.

[Exeunt. Jul. Come hither, nurfe. What is yon gentleman? Nurfe. The fon and heir of old Tiberio.

Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? Nurfe. That, as I think, is young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he, that follows here, that would not dance.

Nurse. I know not.

Jul. Go, afk his name.If he be married,
My grave
is like to be my wedding-bed.
Nurfe. His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
The only fon of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate!
Too early feen, unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I muft love a loathed enemy.
Nurfe. What's this? what's this?
ful. A rhyme I learn'd e'en now
Of one I danc'd withal.

Nurfe. Anon, anon

[One calls within, Juliet.

Come, let's away; the ftrangers all are gone.

Enter 3 CHORUS.

[Exeunt.

Now old Defire doth on his death-bed lie,
And young Affection gapes to be his heir;
That Fair, for which love groan'd fore, and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
But to his foe fuppos'd he must complain,

And fhe fteal love's fweet bait from fearful hooks.

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe fuch vows as lovers use to swear; And fhe, as much in love, her means much lefs, To meet her new-beloved any where:

But Paffion lends them power, Time means, to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extream sweet.

[Exit Chorus.

3. CHORUS.] This chorus added fince the first edition. POPE. Chorus. The ufe of this chorus is not easily discovered; it conduces nothing to the progrefs of the play, but relates what is already known, or what the next fcenes will fhew; and relates it without adding the improvement of any moral fentiment. JOHNSON.

ACT