Were they that murdered our late Emperor's brother;
And they it was that ruined our dear sister;

For their fell faults, 'our brothers were beheaded;
Our father's tears despised; he basely cozened
Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And sent her enemies unto the grave:

Lastly, myself unkindly banished hence;
The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out,
To 'beg relief among Rome's enemies-
Who drowned their enmity in my true tears,

And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend. . . .
But soft! methinks I do digress too much,
Citing 'my worthless praise. O, pardon me:
For, when no 'friends are by, men praise 'themselves.

Old Marcus comes forward:

Marc. Now is 'my turn to speak. Behold this child,
(Of this was 'Tamora the wicked mother) —
The issue of an irreligious Moor,

Chief architect and plotter of these woes.
The villain is alive in Titus' house,

To witness this is true. What say you, Romans?
Have we done aught 'amiss? Show us wherein,
And, from the place where you behold us now,
We,-poor remainder of the Andronici,-
Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our House."
'Speak, Romans, speak! and, if you say we 'shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

Emilius addresses old Marcus the Tribune:
Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
And bring our 'Emperor gently in thy hand,—
'Lucius our Emperor!-for well I know,
The common voice will cry, It shall be so!

To

Marcus says:

Marc. Lucius, all hail! Rome's royal Emperor
[tendants.] Go, go into old Titus' sorrow'de house,
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,

Exeunt attend

[Exeu

To be adjudged some direful 'slaughtering death,
As punishment for his most wicked life.-
Lucius, all hail! Rome's gracious governor!

a fearful.

b O. R. and.

d race, family.

e O. R. sorrowful,

c cheated.

ants.

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans! May I govern so,
To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe!
The Attendants re-enter, with Aaron.

1 Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes!
Give sentence on this execrable wretch,

That hath been 'breeder of these dire events. Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him; There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food: If any one relieves or pities him,

For the offence he 'dies. This is our doom!
Aar.... Ah! why should wrath be mute, and fury 'dumb?
I am no 'baby, I, that with base 'prayers

I should 'repent the evils I have done:
Ten thousand 'worse than ever yet I did
'Would I perform, if I might have
might have my 'will..
If 'one 'good deed in all my life I did,

I do repent it from my very soul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
And give him burial in his father's grave.
'My father and Lavinia shall forthwith

Be closed within our household's monument.-
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,

No 'funeral rite, nor man in 'mournful weeds,
No mournful 'bell shall ring 'her burial;

But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey:
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity,
And, being so, shall have 'like want of pity.
See justice done ona Aaron, that vile Moor,
By whom our heavy 'haps had their beginning:
Then, afterwards, to order well the State,
That 'like events may ne'er it ruinate.°

END OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

[Exeunt.

a O. R. to.

b mishaps.

o bring to ruin.

ROMEO AND JULIET.

The Tragedy of "Romeo and Juliet" is generally admired as the dramatic representation of a passion in which all men and women either have been, are, or hope to be, interested-Love; sudden, as it sometimes is; indiscreet, as it often is; unhappy, as it too frequently is; ardent and variable, as it always is.

The story of Romeo and Juliet has been frequently told in prose and poetry: Dante, in his "Divine Comedy," refers to this family feud of the Capulets and the Montagues; it was the subject of an English Poem by Arthur Brooke in 1562; and it is included in the Collection of Tales known as "The Palace of Pleasure," published in 1567, by William Painter.

Shakespeare's was not the first dramatic composition on this subject. Arthur Brooke's Poem is entitled, "The Tragicalle Historye of Romeus and Juliet, containing a rare example of true constansie; with the subtill counsels and practices of an old Fryer and their ill event." In the preface the author says: "I saw the same argument lately set forth on the stage with more commendation than can look for, being there much better set forth than I have, or can do." This high praise belongs to a dramatist of an earlier date, as these words were printed in 1562-two years before Shakespeare was born. But no copy of the play is extant now.

Shakespeare's Tragedy must have been written in 1596. It was printed in 1597, and again in 1599, but the author's name is not on either title-page. The second version is stated to be "newly corrected, augmented and amended," and differs very little from the folio of 1623.

The Time of the action is about a week in the beginning of the 14th century (1303) and the Scene is, during the greater part of the play, in Verona; once, in the fifth act, in Mantua.

The Tragedy is preceded by a Prologue, spoken by the Chorus: 'Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona where we lay our scene,
From 'ancient grudge break to 'new mutiny,
Where civil 'blood makes civil 'hands unclean.

From forth the fatal sires of these two foes,
A pair of star-crossed 'lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do, with their 'death, bury their 'parents' strife.

The fearful passage of 'their death-marked 'love,
And the continuance of their parents 'rage,-
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,—
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall 'miss, our toil shall strive to 'mend.

[Exit.

Among the noble families in the city of Verona were those of Capulet and Montague-rivals and enemies. The mediation of friends, and the power of their rulers, had been vainly exerted to pacify them. On one occasion, the foolish wrangling of the servants of Lord Capulet with those of Lord Montague, had called for the joint interference of Benvolio, (a kinsman of Montague,) and Tybalt, (a nephew of Capulet). The Chiefs of the rival families met in the midst of the fierce outbreak, which was with difficulty quelled by the Prince of Verona himself:

Prin. 'Rebellious subjects! enemies to peace,

Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistempered' weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your movéd Prince :-
'Three civil brawls, bred of an airy 'word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,

Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our town :
If ever you disturb our streets 'again,
Your 'lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

:

Exeunt

Once more, on pain of 'death! all men depart. [Prince, &c.

The family feud thus allayed for a time, Lady Montague anxiously inquires of Benvolio for her son:

La. Mon. O, where is 'Romeo? saw you him 'to-day?
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun

Peered forth the golden window of the east,

a O. R. loins.

b angry.

CO. R. streets. d came in sight, appeared.

So 'early-walking, did I see your son :
Towards him I 'made; but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the 'wood.

Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,

With tears 'augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds 'more clouds with his deep sighs:
Could we but learn from 'whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as know.

Benvolio advises Lord and Lady Montague to withdraw, that he may freely question Romeo, who, he has reason to believe, has fallen in love with Rosaline, the fair niece of Lord Capulet: although the lady does not, in any degree, return his affection. Romeo enters.

Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Rom.

Ben. But new struck nine.
Rom.

Is the day so young?

Ah me! 'sad hours seem 'long.

Was that my 'father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was.- What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. 'Not having that, which, 'having, makes them short. Ben. In love?

Rom. Out of her favour, where I 'am in love.—

Where shall we dine? Oh me! What 'fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

Here's much to do with 'hate, but more with 'love :
Love! heavy lightness! serious vanity!

Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!...
Dost thou not 'laugh?

Ben.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
Ben.

No, coz; I rather 'weep.

At thy good heart's 'oppression.

Tell me, in 'sadness, who she is you love?
Rom. In sadness, cousin, I do love—a 'woman.
Ben. I aimed 'so near, when I supposed you loved.
Be 'ruled by me; 'forget to think of her.
Rom. O teach me 'how I should forget to think.
Ben. By giving 'liberty unto thine eyes:
Examine 'other beauties.

Rom. T is the way to call hers, exquisite !
He that is stricken" blind 'cannot 'forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight 'lost.
Show me a mistress that is 'passing" fair,-