Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek: I will give you the minstrel.*

1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature.

Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, I'll fa you; Do you note me?

1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us.

2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger :Answer me like men:

When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then musick, with her silver sound;

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 ?m 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 you 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.

No money, on my faith; but the gleek: I will give you the minstrel.] To give the gleek meant to pass a jest upon a person, to make him appear ridiculous. -To give the minstrel only means, “ I will call you minstrel and so treat you," to which the musician replies, "Then I will give you the serving creature," as a personal retort in kind.-NAREs.

Catling?] A catling was a small lute-string made of catgut.-STEEVENS. Hugh Rebeck?] The fiddler is so called from an instrument with three strings, which is mentioned by several of the old writers. Rebec, rebecquin.— STEEVENS.

ACT V."

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;
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? 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,
And her immortal part with angels lives;

n 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.

If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,] i. e. If I may trust to what I saw in my sleep. STEEVENS.

P My bosom's lord-] i. e. Love. In King Arthur, a poem, by R. Chester, 1601, the same phrase is used; and the author in a marginal note declares, that by bosom's lord, he means Cupid. Romeo means to say that his passion, which has been much disquieted by the unfortunate events that have happened since his marriage, is, in consequence of his last night's dream, gay and cheerful.-STEEVENS und MALONE.

The superstition, that a sudden and causeless gaiety of spirit often preceded he occurrence of a great affliction, was common in this country till very lately. One instance of it may be met with in Johnson's Life of Roscommon.

I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it to you :
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

'Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!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:
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 BALTHASAR.

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means:-O, 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
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves

A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of pack thread, 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,

¶ An alligator stuff'd,] 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. STEEVENS.

r

An if a man, &c.] This phraseology, which means simply-If, was not unfrequent in Shakspeare's time and before.-REED.

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 itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd 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,
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,

The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.

Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell :
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.-
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.

geer-] i. e. Stuff.-JOHNSON.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar JOHN.

John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter Friar LAURENCE.

Lau. This same should be the voice of friar John.-
Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,t
Here in this city visiting the sick,

And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting, that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it, here it is again,-
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice," but full of charge,
Of dear import: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Lau. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;
But I will write again to Mantua,

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;

[Exit.

Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!

[Exit.

One of our order, to associate me,] Each friar has always a companion assigned him by the superior when he asks leave to go out; and thus, says Baretti, they are a check upon each other.-STEEVENS.

MALONE.

was not nice,] i. e. Was not written on a trivial or idle subject.