THE original relater of the story on which this play is formed, was Luigi da Porto, a gentlemen of Vicenza, who died in 1529. His novel did not appear till some years after his death; being first printed at Venise in 1535, under the title of La Giulietta. A second edition was published in 1539, and it was again reprinted at the same place in 1553 (without the author's name), with the following title: Historia nuoramente ritrovata di due nobili Amanti, con la lero pietosa morte; intervenuta gia nella cita di Verona, nel tempo del Signor Bartholomeo della Scala. Nuovamente stampata. In 1554 Bandello published, at Lucca, a novel on the same subject (Tom. II. Nov. ix.); and shortly afterwards Boisteau exhibited one in French, founded on the Italian narratives, but varying from them in many particulars. From Boisteau's novel the same story was, in 1552, formed into an English poem, with considerable alterations and large additions, by Mr. Arthur Brooke. This piece was printed by Richard Tottle with the following title, written probably, according to the fashion of that time, by the bookseller: The Tragicall Hystory of Romeus and Juliet, containing a rare Example of true Constancie: with the subtill Counsels, and Practices of an old Fryer, and their ill event. It was again published by the same bookseller in 1582. Painter, in the second volume of his Palace of Pleasure, 1567, published a prose ranslation from the French of Boisteau, which be entitled Rhomeo and Julietta. Shakspeare had probably read Painter's novel, having taken one circumstance from it or some other prose translation of Boisteau; but his play was undoubtedly formed on the poem of Arthur Brooke. This is proved decisively by the following circumstance: 1. In the poem the prince of Verona is called Escalus; so also in the play.In Painter's translation from Boisteau he is named Signor Escala; and sometimes Lord Bartholomew of Escala. 2. In Painter's novel the family of Romeo are called the Montesches; in the poem and in the play, the Montagues. 3. The messenger emoloyed by friar Lawrence to carry a letter to Romeo to inform him when Juliet would awake from her trance, is in Painter's translation called Anselme in the poem, and in the play, friar John is employed in this business. 4. The circumstance of Capulet's writing down the names of the guests whom he invites to supper, is found in the poem and in the play, but is not mentioned by Painter, nor is it found in the original Italian novel. 5. The residence of the Capulets, in the original, and in Painter, is called Villa franca; in the poem and in the play, Freetown. 6. Several passages of Romeo and Juliet appear to have been formed on hints furnished by the poem, of which no traces are found either in Painter's novel, or in Boisteau, or the original; and several expressions are borrowed from thence, which will be found in their proper places. As what has been now stated has been controverted, (for what may not be controverted?) I should enter more largely into the subject, but various passages of the poem furnish such a decisive proof of the play's having been constructed upon it, as not to leave, in my apprehension, ROMEO AND JULIET. This play is one of the most pleasing of our author's performances. The scenes are busy and various, the incints numerous and important, the catastrophe irresistibly affecting, and the process of the action carried on with ch probability, at least with such congruity to popular opinions, as tragedy requires. Here is one of the few attempts of Shakspeare to exhibit the conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy rightliness of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition, which might easily reach his time, of a declation made by Shakspeare, that he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should have been killed him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable person, but that he might have lived through the play, and died kis bed, without danger to the poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in quest of truth, in a pointed sentence, at more regard is commonly had to the words than the thought, and that it is very seldom to be rigorously understood. ercutio's wit, gaiety and courage, will always procure him friends that wish him a longer life; but his death is not ecipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of Shakspeare have continued his existence, though some of his sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was not ry fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour; but acute, argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime. The Nurse is one of the characters in which the author delighted: he has, with great subtility of distinction, awn her, at once, loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest. His comic scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetic strains are always polluted with some unexpected deprations. His persons, however distressed, have a conceit left them in their misery, a miserable conceit. Johnson. BALT, Nephew to lady Capulet. (IAR LAURENCE, a Franciscan. (AR JOHN, of the same order. ALTHAZAR, Servant to Romeo. LEGORY, Servants to Capulet. ABRAM, Servant to Montague. Three Musicians. Page to Paris. An Officer. LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague. Nurse to Juliet. Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants. SCENE,-During the greater Part of the Play, in Verona; once, in the Fifth Act, at Mantua. SCENE I-A public Place. Inter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with swords Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry coals. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:-there fore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. "Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been Poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Sam. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry; I fear thee! (begin Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare, I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? Abr. Do Sam. No. sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? Abr. Quarrel, sir? no, sir. Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Turn thee, Beuvolio, look upon thy death. Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: (They fight.) Enter several partizans of both Houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs. 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them down! {tagues! Down with the Capulets! Down with the MonEnter CAPULET in his gown; and Lady CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long [a sword? La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. sword, ho! beasts. That quench the fire of your pernicious rage [Exeunt Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, Mon.Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part. La. Mon. O, where is Romeo? - saw you him to-day? Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sa With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Ben. See where he comes: So please you, stej aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Ben. But new struck nine. Is the day so young" Ah me! sad hours seem laa Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romes s [them short. hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,. Should be so tyrannous and rough in proot! Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muted sti. Should without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? -O me! What fray was bere? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it a". heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!- Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what Ben. At thy good heart's oppression Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.- Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. (Going.) Ben. Soft, I will go along; And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tat, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love. Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. But sadly tell me, who. Groan? why, no; Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!— la sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marksman-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: 0. she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? [waste; Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. "Tis the way To call her's, exquisite, in question more: These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair; He, that is struck blind, cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Shew me a mistress, that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note, Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell; thon canst not teach me to forget. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth bath swallow'd all my hopes but she, But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, And like her most, whose merit most shall be: My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt Capulet and Paris, Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his net; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned:-In good time. Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Take thou some new infection to thy eye, Rom. For your broken shin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow. (read? (Reads.) Serv. God gi' good-e'en.-I pray, sir, can you Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: But I pray, can you read any thing you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Serv. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry! Rom. Stay, fellow: I can read. Signor Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of Vitruvio; Signor Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine unele Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly(Gives back the note.) Whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Rom. Whose house? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; With all the admired beauties of Verona : [Exit. |