A change of scene brings the spectator back again to Verona, and to the palace of the Duke. Count Paris is there in mourning, regretting Julia, and the Duke endeavours in vain to confole him. Antonio comes in, fenfibly touched at the fate of his daughter: but having no heir, Maximilian proposes to him, his marrying Dorothea, his nearest relation, to hinder the great treasures he poffeffes, from being difperfed into different families; and he consents to it.

A new scene then appears; the family-vault of the Caftelvins, furrounded with objects too melancholly for any theatre but the Spanish. Julia awakens her amazement, her terror, her love, and furprife, furnish her in that dreadful darkness with a beautiful foliloquy, at the close of which Rofelo enters. Their re-union is accompanied with the moft tender, and moving fentiments.

They escape happily out of Verona; and not knowing where to conceal themselves, take refuge in a castle belonging to Julia's father, but where he never came. There the last scenes país.

Julia, Rofelo, Anfelm, and Marin, are difguised like peasants. Their defign is, to stay a day or two in the caftle, till they find a convenience to go off; but fortune decides it otherwife.

Antonio repairs to this caftla, to celebrate his marriage with Dorothea; Theobald (her father),

and

and feveral other Caftelvin Noblemen, accompany them. Their arrival obliges Rofelo and his party to conceal themselves in different parts of the castle; the keeper does not know them, but their behaviour and liberality engage him to fecrefy.

As Julia is concealed clofe to the room her father is in, fhe hears him alone, lamenting her destiny. She speaks to him; he, in the greatest horror, imagines it her fhade; and this odd converfation brings on the catastrophe.She reproaches him with the cruelty that brought on her fate, and offers to appear before him in the shape she bore fince their feparation. He declines it with terror, and endeavours to excufe his severity by the worth of the Count. She confeffes the merit of Paris; but owns fhe had been privately married two months before, to a husband, whom envy itself could not blame;' that she knew the fiercenefs of his nature could not bear the confeffion, and therefore facrificed her life to preserve her fidelity to him she had chofe; that all fhe now begged, was his folemn promife he would never confpire the ruin of this unknown fon-in-law, but cherish and esteem him, as if he had been his own choice; that this was all the atonement he could now make, and without which she should inceffantly disturb him.

He promises it, and afks his name; when fhe tells him, 'tis Rofelo, the head of the Montefes, and that heaven had raised him up to put an

end to those difcords which deftroyed their country he feems fhocked at first, but foon melts into grief and tendernefs, and attests heaven that he will always preferve the fentiments of a father for Rofelo.

During this fcene, Theobald, and the other Caftelvins, having difcovered Rofelo, Anfelm, and Marin, bring them all bound upon the stage, and deliberate upon the kind of death they shall make them fuffer.

In this conjuncture, Antonio, out of regard to his promife, and compunction for his fault, difcovered what has paffed, and embraces Roselo. At first they imagine his brain difordered, but by degrees he foothes them into moderation; and Count Paris, who is prefent, out of generofity joins with him, and conduces to bring 'em to a reconciliation.

To render this fudden converfion more lafting, they determine to cement the peace by the marriage of Dorothea and Rofelo. Julia, who hears all, fuddenly appears. Their firft terror at the fight, is turned into joy and furprife, when they find the is alive; and when they are informed that Rofelo delivered her from the arms of death, they judge him to have a lawful claim to her. Their union is ratified; Anfelm marries the daughter of Theobald; and Marin (the Graciofo) receives the hand of Celia, with a thoufand ducats from Antonio and Rofelo.

The End of the Play.

ROMEO

ROMEO and JULIET.

ACT I. SCENE Í. P. 5.

Gregory.

O

N my word, I will not carry

coals.]

An expreffion then in ufe, to fignify the patient bearing of injuries. Shakespeare uses it in this fenfe, Life of King Henry V. act iii. fc. iii. P. 360.

Boy. "Nim and Bardolpb are fworn brothers "in filching, and in Calais they ftole a fire-fho"vel, I know by that piece of service the men "would carry coals."

So it is used by Skelton, in his poem, intitled, Why come ye not to court? Works, p. 149. "Will you bear no coles?"

And by Ben Johnson, Every man in bis Humour, act v. fc. i.

Puntarvolo to the Groom.

"See, here comes one that will cary coals ; "Ergo, will hold my dog."

And again, act v. fc. iii.

Take heed, Sir Puntarvolo, what you do; * He'll bear no coals, I can tell you, (o' my "word)."

Sc. ibid. Enter Abram, and Balthafar.] "Enter two ferving men." Folios 1623, and

1632.

Id.

Id. ib.

Sam. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a difgrace to them, if they bear it.]

So it fignifies in Randolph's Mufes Lookingglass, act iii. fc. iii. p. 45.

Orgylus. "To bite his thumb at me.

Aorgus. "Why fhould not a man bite his 66 own thumb ?

Org." At me? were I fcorn'd to fee men "bite their thumbs;

"Rapiers and daggers, he's the fon of a whore." Id. ib. p. 8.

Enter old Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet.]

"And his wife."Folios 1623, and 1632.

Sc. iii. p. 13.

Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.]

"And Clown," Folios 1623, and 1632.

Sc. iii. p. 15.

Ben. Take thou fome new infection to the eye, And the rank poifon of the old will die.

Romeo. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.] "Some (fays Quincy, Difpenfatory, part ii. "fect 2.) have had a strange notion of plantain's

refifting of poifons." And Tackius tells us, that a toad, before the engages with a spider, will fortify herself with some of the plant; and that if fhe comes off wounded, fhe cures herself afterwards with it.

Sc. ib. Ser. God gi' good e'en.] "God gi goden." Folios 1623, and 1632.