ACT V. SCENE I. Mantua. A Street. Enter ROMEO. ROM. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep", "Enter Old Man. Cap. Make haste, make haste, for it is almost day, "The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis four o'clock; 66 Look to your bak'd meats, good Angelica. "Nur. Go get you to bed, you cotqueen. I'faith you will be sick anon. 66 Cap. I warrant thee, Nurse; I have ere now watch'd all night, and have taken no harm at all. 66 Moth. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time. "Enter Serving Man with logs and coals. Cap. A jealous hood, jealous hood: How now, sirra? "What have you there? "Ser. Forsooth, logs. 66 Cap. Go, go choose drier. Will will tell thee where thou shalt fetch them. "Ser. Nay, I warrant, let me alone; I have a head I trow to choose a log. 66 Cap. Well, go thy way; thou shalt be loggerhead. "Come, come, make haste, call up your daughter, "The county will be here with musick straight. "Gods me, he's come: Nurse, call up my daughter. [Exit. "Nur. Go, get you gone. What lamb, what lady bird! fast, I warrant. What Juliet! well, let the county take you in your bed: you sleep for a week now; but the next night, the county Paris hath set up his rest that you shall rest but little. What, lamb, I say, fast still: what, lady, love! what, bride! what, Juliet! Gods me, how sound she sleeps! Nay, then I see I must wake you, indeed. What's here, laid on your bed? dress'd in your cloaths, and down? Ah me! alack the day! some aqua vitæ! ho! "Enter Mother. "Moth. How now? what's the matter? "Nur. Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! "Moth. Accurst, unhappy, miserable time. 66 "Enter Old Man. Cap. Come, come, make haste, where's my daughter? My dreams presage some joyful news at hand *: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; 66 * Quarto A, dreame presaged some good event to come. Moth. Ah, she's dead, she's dead. Cap. Stay, let me see, all pale and wan. "Accursed time, unfortunate old man. "Enter Friar and Paris. "Par. What is the bride ready to go to church? 66 Cap. Ready to go, but never to return. "O son, the night before thy wedding day "Hath death lain with thy bride; flower as she is, "Death is my son-in-law; to him I give all that I have. 66 make me, Cap. O here she lies that was our hope, our joy; "And being dead, dead sorrow nips us all. [All at once cry out and wring their hands. "All cry. And all our joy, and all our hope is dead, "Dead, lost, undone, absented, wholly fled. 66 "Cap. Cruel, unjust, impartial destinies, Why to this day have you preserv'd my life? "To see my hope, my stay, my joy, my life. "Depriv'd of sense, of life, of all, by death? Cruel, unjust, impartial destinies. 66 66 Cap. O sad fac'd sorrow, map of misery, Why this sad time have I desir'd to see? "This day, this unjust, this impartial day, "Wherein I hop'd to see my comfort full, "To be depriv'd by sudden destiny? "Moth. O woe, alack, distress'd, why should I live? "To see this day, this miserable day? "Alack the time that ever I was born "To be partaker of this destiny! "Alack the day, alack and well-a-day! "Fr. O peace, for shame, if not for charity. "Your daughter lives in peace and happiness, And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. "And it is vain to wish it otherwise. Come, stick your rosemary in this dead corse; "And as the custom of our country is, “In all her best and sumptuous ornaments, Convey her where her ancestors lie tomb'd. 66 66 Cap. Let it be so, come woeful sorrow mates, "Let us together taste this bitter fate. [They all but the Nurse go forth, casting rosemary on her, and shutting the curtains. "Enter Musicians. "Nur. Put up, put up, this is a woeful case. [Exit. "1. Ay, by my troth, mistress, is it; it had need be mended. "Enter Serving Man. "Ser. Alack, alack, what shall I do! come, fidlers, play me some merry dump. "1. Ah, sir; this is no time to play. "Ser. You will not then? "1. No, marry, will we. "Ser. Then will I give it you, and soundly too. "1. What will you give us? "Ser. The fidler, I'll re you, I'll fa you, I'll sol you. "1. If you re us and fa us, we will note you. "Ser. I will put up my iron dagger, and beat you with my wooden wit. Come on, Simon Found-pot, I'll pose you. "1. Let's hear. "Ser. When griping grief the heart doth wound, "And doleful dumps the mind oppress, "Then musick with her silver sound, Why silver sound? Why silver sound? "1. I think because musick hath a sweet sound. "Ser. I think so, I'll speak for you because you are the singer. I say silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding. Farewell, fidlers, farewell. 66 "1. Farewell and be hang'd: come, let's go. [Exit. [Exeunt." BOSWELL. 7 ACT V.] The Acts are here properly enough divided, nor did any better distribution than the editors have already made, occur I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead; (Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to think,) 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 edi tions 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. 8 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 supersede the more modern one, let the reader determine: it appears to me, however, the most easily intelligible of the two. STEEVENS. I once thought that the flattering eye of sleep meant the visual power which a man asleep is enabled, by the aid of imagination, to exercise; but I now conceive, that the god of sleep was in the contemplation of the speaker, and the meaning appears to be this-If I may trust the favourable aspect of sleep, which too often, like the words of the flatterer, is delusive and untrue. This interpretation, and the reading of the old copy, may be supported `by a passage in Richard III.: 66 66 My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; O, if thy eye be not a flatterer, "Come thou on my side, and entreat for me." The reading in the text is that of the original copy in 1597, which, in my opinion is preferable in this and various other places, to the subsequent copies. That of 1599, and the folio, read: "If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,” which by a very forced interpretation may mean,—If I may confide in the pleasing visions of sleep, and believe them to be true. Otway, to obtain a clearer sense than that furnished by the words which Dr. Johnson has interpreted, reads, less poetically than the original copy, which he had probably never seen, but with nearly the same meaning: "If I may trust the flattery of sleep, 66 My dreams presage some joyful news at hand :' and Mr. Pope has followed him. And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, 9 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. So also, in the Preface to Caltha Poetarum, or the Bumblebee, 1599: "—whilst he [Cupid,] continues honoured in the world, we must once a yeare bring him upon the stage, either dancing, kissing, laughing, or angry, or dallying with his darlings, seating himself in their breasts," &c. Thus too Shakspeare, in Twelfth Night : 66 It gives a very echo to the seat "Where love is thron'd." Again, in Othello: "Yield up, O Love, thy crown and hearted throne." Though the passage quoted above from Othello proves decisively that Shakspeare considered the heart as the throne of love, it has been maintained, since this note was written, strange as it may seem, that by my bosom's lord, we ought to understand, not the god of love, but the heart. The words-love sits lightly on his throne, says Mr. Mason, can only import "that Romeo loved less intensely than usual." Nothing less. Love, the lord of my bosom, (says the speaker,) who has been much disquieted by the unfortunate events that have happened since my marriage, is now, in consequence of my last night's dream, gay and cheerful. The reading of the original copy-" sits cheerful in his throne," ascertains the author's meaning beyond a doubt. When the poet described the god of love as sitting lightly on the heart, he was thinking, without doubt, of the common phrase, a light heart, which signified in his time, as it does at present, a heart undisturbed by care. Whenever Shakspeare wishes to represent a being that he has personified, eminently happy, he almost always crowns him, or places him on a throne. So, in King Henry IV. P. I.: "And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep." Again, in the play before us: 66 Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit : "For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd, "Sole monarch of the universal earth." Again, more appositely, in King Henry V. : "As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, 66 Crowned with faith and constant loyalty." MALONE. "My bosom's lord" These three lines are very gay and |