La. Cap. And that fame marriage is the very theam
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How ftands your difpofition to be married?
Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurfe. An honour? were not I thine only nurse,
I'd fay, thou hadst fuck'd wisdom from thy teat.
La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger than

you

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

Are made already mothers. By my count,
I was your mother much upon thefe years
That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief,
The valiant Paris feeks you for his love.

Nurfe. A man, young lady, lady, fuch a man
As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.
La. Cap. Verona's fummer hath not fuch a flower.
Nurfe. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
La. Cap. What fay you, can you like the Gentle-
man? (8)

This Night you fhall behold him at our Feast,
Read o'er the Volume of young Paris' Face,
And find Delight writ there with Beauty's pen;
Examine ev'ry fev'ral Lineament,

And fee, how one another lends Content :
And what obfcur'd in this fair Volume lyes,
Find written in the Margent of his Eyes.

This precious book of Love, this unbound Lover,
To beautify him only lacks a Cover.

The fish lives in the Sea, and 'tis much pride,

For Fair without the Fair within to hide.

That Book in many Eyes doth fhare the Glory,
That in gold Clafps locks in the golden Story.
So, fhall you share all that he doth poffefs,
By having him, making your felf no lefs.

Nurfe. No lefs? Nay, bigger; Women grow by Men.

(8) What fay you? Can you like the Gentleman ?] This Speech of Lady Capulet, tho I cannot readily commend it, yet I could not conceive I had any Authority to leave it out. I have reflor'd many other Paffages in this Play, not of the best Stamp, but for the fame Reason.

La. Cap.

La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move. But no more deep will I indart mine eye,

Than your confent gives ftrength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Madam, the guests are come, fupper ferv'd up, you call'd, my young lady ask'd for, the nurse curft in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow strait.

La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the County ftays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

[Exeunt. SCENE, a Street before Capulet's house.

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix other maskers, torch-bearers, and drums.

Rom.

HAT, fhall this fpeech be fpoke for our excufe?

WHA

Or fhall we on without apology?

Ben. The date is out of fuch prolixity.
We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper: (9)
Nor a without-book prologue faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance.
But let them meafure us by, what they will,
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the Light.

Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Rom. Not I, believe me; you have dancing fhoes

(9) Scaring the Ladies like a Cowkeeper.] I led Mr. Pope into this miitaken Reading, which I once thought the true one, before I fully understood the Paffage. But I have prov'd, that Crowkeeper, which poffeffes all the old Copies, is the genuine Reading of the Poet, in my 49th Note on King Lear,

With nimble foles; I have a foul of lead,
So ftakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Mer. You are a Lover; borrow Cupid's Wings,
And foar with them above a common Bound.

Rom. I am too fore enpearced with his Shaft,
To foar with his light Feathers: and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull Woe:
Under Love's heavy burthen do I fink.

Mer. And to fink in it, should you burthen Love:
Too great Oppreffion for a tender Thing!

Rom. Is Love a tender Thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boift'rous; and it pricks like Thorn. Mer. If Love be rough with you, be rough with

Love;

Prick Love for pricking, and you beat Love down.
Give me a Cafe to put my vifage in? [Pulling off his Mask.
A Vifor for a Vifor! what care I,

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle brows fhall blufh for me.

Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no fooner in, But ev'ry man betake him to his legs.

Rom. A torch for me.

Let wantons, light of heart,

Tickle the senseless rufhes with their heels;
For I am proverb'd with a grandfire phrase;
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

The game was ne'er fo fair, and I am done.

Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the conftable's own word; If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire ;

Or, fave your reverence, Love, wherein thou stickest
Up to thine ears: come, we burn day-light, ho.
Rom. Nay, that's not fo.

Mer. I mean, Sir, in delay

We burn our lights by light, and lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment fits
Five times in That, ere once in our fine wits.
Rom. And we mean well in going to this mask;
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer. Why, may one ask?

Rom. I dreamt a dream to night.
Mer. And fo did I.

Rom.

Rom. Well; what was yours!

Mer. That dreamers often lie.

Rom. In bed afleep; while they do dream things

true.

Mer. O, then I fee, Queen Mab hath been with you. (10)

She is the Fancy's mid-wife, and fhe comes
In fhape no bigger than an agat-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman;
Drawn with a team of little atomies,
Athwart mens nofes as they lye asleep:
Her waggon-fpokes made of long spinners legs;
The cover, of the wings of grafhoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's watry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner a fmall grey-coated gnat,
Not half fo big as a round little worm,
Prickt from the lazy finger of a maid.
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,

(10) O, then I fee, Queen Mab hath been with you:

She is the Fairies' Midwife.] Thus begins that admirable Speech upon the Effects of the Imagination in Dreams. But, Queen Mab the Fairies Midwife? What is fhe then Queen of? Why, the Fairies. What! and their Midwife too? Sure, this is a wonderful Condefcenfion in her Royal Highness. But this is not the greatest of the Abfurdities. The Fairies Midwife? But let us fee upon what Occafion she is introduced, and under what Quality. Why, as a Being that has great Power over human Imaginations. But then according to the Laws of common Sense, if fhe has any Title given her, muft not that Title have reference to the Employment she is put upon? Firft, then, she is called Queen which is very pertinent; for that defigns her Power: Then she is called the Fairies Midwife; but what has that to do with the Point in hand? If we would think that Shakespeare wrote Sense, we must say, he wrote- -the Fancy's Midwife: and this is a Title the most à propos in the World, as it introduces all that is faid afterwards of her Vagaries. Befides, it exactly quadrates with these Lines;

-I talk of Dreams;

Which are the Children of an idle Brain,

Begot of nothing but vain Fantafie.

These Dreams are begot upon Fantafie, and Mab is the Midwife to bring them forth. And Fancy's Midwife is a Phrafe altogether in the Manner of our Author.

Mr. Warburton

Made by the joyner fquirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies coach-makers:
And in this State fhe gallops, night by night,"
Through lovers brains, and then they dream of love >
On courtiers knees, that dream on curtfies ftrait :
O'er lawyers fingers, who ftrait dream on fees:
O'er ladies lips, who ftrait on kiffes dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blifters plagues,
Because their breaths with fweet-meats tainted are.
Sometimes the gallops o'er a lawyer's nofe,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit:
And fometimes comes fhe with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling the parfon as he lies asleep;
Then dreams he of another Benefice.
Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck,
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambufcadoes, Spanish blades, (11)
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ears, at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And cakes the elf-locks in foul fluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lye on their backs,
That preffes them, and learns them firft to bear;
Making them women of good carriage:
This is fhe-

(11) Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Of healths five fathoms deep ;] As the Generality of the Terms, coupled here, have a Reference to the Wars, fome ingenious Perfons have conjectured that our Poet wrote;

Of Delves five Fathoms deep;

i. e. Trenches; Places del'd, or dug down. But, with Submiffion, I conceive the Text to be fincere as it is; and alludes to drinking deep to a Miftrefs's health. I find the like Expreffion in Weftward-boe, a Comedy wrote in our Author's Time.

Troth, Sir, my Mafter and Sir Goflin are guzzling; they are dabbling together fathom deep. The Knight has drunk fo much health to the Gentleman yonder on bis Knees, that he hath almost lost the use of his Legs.