juftice rails upon yond fimple thief. Hark in thine ear. Change places, and handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou haft feen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar. Glo. Ay, Sir,

Lear. And the creature run from the cur. There thou might'ft behold the great image of authority; a dog's obey'd in office.

Thou rafcal beadle, hold thy bloody hand:

Why doft thou lafh that whore? Strip thy own back;
Thou hotly luft'ft to use her in that kind

For which thou whipp'ft her. Th' ufurer hangs the cozener.
Through tatter'd clothes fmall vices do appear;
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate fin with gold,
And the ftrong lance of juftice hurtlefs breaks :
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's ftraw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em :
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To feal the accufer's lips. Get thee glass eyes,
And, like a fcurvy politician, feem

To fee the things thou doft not.

Now, now, now, now! Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. So. Edg. O matter and impertinency mix'd!

Reafon in madness!

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough, thy name is Glofter.
Thou must be patient: we came crying hither;
Thou know'ft, the first time that we smell the air,
We wawle and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark-
Glo. Alack, alack the day!

Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great ftage of fools. This a good block !—
It were a delicate ftratagem to fhoe

A troop of horfe with felt; I'll put 't in proof;
And when I have folen upon thefe fons-in-law,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

Enter a Gentleman, swith attendants.

Gent. O, here he is, lay hand upon him.-Sir, Your most dear daughter.

Lear. No refcue? What! a prifoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Ufe me well,

You

You fhall have ranfom.

I am cut to th' brains.

Let me have furgeons;

Gent. You fhall have any thing.

Lear. No feconds? all myself?

Why, this would make a man, a man of falt;
To ufe his eyes for garden water-pots,

And laying autumn's duft. I will die bravely,

Like a smug bridegroom. What! I will be jovial.
Come, come, I am a King, my mafters; know you that?
Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there's life in't. Come,

You fhall get it by running. Sa, fa, fa, you get it,

[Exit.

Gent. A fight moft pitiful in the meanest wretch,
Paft fpeaking of in a King. Thou haft one daughter,
Who redeems nature from the general curfe
Which twain have brought her to..

Edg. Hail, gentle Sir.

Gent. Sir, fpeed you. What's your will?

Edg. Do you hear aught, Sir, of a battle toward Gent. Moft fure, and vulgar; every one hears that, Which can distinguish found.

Edg. But, by your favour,

How near's the other army?

Gent. Near, and on fpeedy foot. The main defcry Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you, Sir. That's all.

Gent. Though that the Queen on special caufe is here,

Her army is mov'd on.

Edg. I thank you, Sir.

[Exit Gent.

Glo. You ever, gentle gods, take my breath froin me;

Let not my worfer spirit tempt me again

To die before you please!

Edg. Well pray you, father.

Glo. Now, good Sir, what are you?

Edg. A molt poor man, made tame to fortune's blows,

Who, by the art of knowing and feeling forrows,

Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to fome biding.

Glo. Hearty thanks;

The bounty and the benison of heaven

To boot, and boot!

No. XXVII.-ROMEO AND JULIET.
ACT I. SCENE II. Capulet's Garden.
Enter Romeo.

ROMEO.

HE jefts at fears, that never felt a wound

Fut, foft what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the fun!

[Juliet appears above at a windows.

Arife, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already fick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than fhe. j
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her veftal livery is but fick and green,

What of that?

And none but fools do wear it; caft it off-
It is my lady; O! it is my love;
O that he knew the were!
She fpeaks, yet fhe fays nothing.
Her eye difcourfes; I will anfwer it-
I am too bold; 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the faireft ftars of all the heaven,
Having fome bulinefs, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would fhame thofe ftars,
As day-light doth a lamp: her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region ftream fo bright,
That birds would fing, and think it were not night,
See how fhe leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

ful. Ah me!

Rom. She fpeaks.

Oh, fpeak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this fight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged meffenger from heaven,
Unto the white-upturned, wand'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he beftrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon the bosom of the air.

Jul.

Jul. O Romeo, Romeo-Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name:

Or, if thou wilt not, be but fworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or fhall I fpeak at this? [Afide. Jul. "Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face-nor any other part. What's in a name? That which we call a rose, By any other name would fmell as fweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes, Without that title. Romeo, quit thy name; And for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

Rom. I take thee at thy word:

Call me but Love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Jul. What inan art thou, that thus, befcreen'd in night, So ftumblelt on my counsel ?

Rom. By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear faint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee.

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Jul. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the found.

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair faint, if either thee dislike.

Jul. How camft thou hither, tell me, and wherefore ? The orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb; t

And the place death, confidering who thou art,

If any of my kinfmen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did Io'er-perch these walls, For ftony limits cannot hold love out;

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:

Therefore thy kinfmen are no stop to me.

Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye

Than

Than twenty of their fwords; look thou but fweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world they faw thee here.
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes,
And but thou love me, let them find me here,
My life were better ended by their hate,

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Jul. By whofe direction found'ft thou out this place ? Rom. By love, that firft did prompt me to enquire; He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet wert thou as far

As that vaft fhore, wash'd with the farthest sea,
I would adventure for fuch merchandize.

on my

Jul. Thou know'ft the mask of night is
Elfe would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou haft heard me fpeak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
What I have spoke but farewel, compliment!
Doft thou love me? I know thou wilt fay ay;
And I will take thy word-yet if thou swear'st
Thou may't prove falfe: at lovers' perjuries,
They fay, Jove laughs. Oh, gentle Romeo!
If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully!
Or, if you think I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverfe, and fay thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but elfe not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

face,

And therefore thou may'ft think my 'haviour light;
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than thofe that have more coying to be ftrange.
I fhould have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou over-héard'ft, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's paffion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath fo discovered.

Rem. Lady, by yonder bleffed moon I vow,
That tips with filver all thefe fruit-tree tops-
Jul. O fwear not by the moon, the inconftant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb;
Left that thy love, prove likewise variable.

Rom. What fhall I fwear by ?