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Page 27
The day is hot.
It is observed that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed
during the heat of summer.
ACT III. SCENE iii. (III. i. 183.)
Affection makes him false.
The charge of falshood on Bentivolio, though produced at hazard,
is very just. The authour, who seems to intend the character of
Bentiolio as good, meant perhaps to shew, how the best minds, in
a state of faction and discord, are detorted to criminal partiality.
ACT III. SCENE viii. (III. v. 84.)
And, yet, no Man like he doth grieve my heart.
Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed
by the loss of a new lover.
ACT IV. SCENE iii. (IV. iii. 2-3.)
Leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons.
Juliet plays most of her pranks under the appearance of religion:
perhaps Shakespeare meant to punish her hypocrisy.
ACT V. SCENE i. (V. i. 3.)
My bosom's Lord sits lightly on this throne, &c.
These three lines are very gay and pleasing. But why does Shakespeare
give Romeo this involuntary cheerfulness just before the extremity
of unhappiness? Perhaps to shew the vanity of trusting to those
uncertain and casual exaltations or depressions, which many consider
as certain foretokens of good and evil.
ACT V. SCENE v. (v. iii. 229.)
FRIAR. I will be brief.
It is much to be lamented that the Poet did not conclude the dialogue
with the action, and avoid a narrative of events which the audience
already knew. This play is one of the most pleasing of our Author's
performances. The scenes are busy and various, the incidents
numerous and important, the catastrophe irresistably affecting
and the process of the action carried on with such probability at
least with such congruity to popular opinions, as tragedy requires.
Here is one of the few attempts of Shakespeare to exhibit the
conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy sprightliness
of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition which might
easily reach his time, of a declaration made by Shakespeare, that
he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should
have been killed by him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable
person, but that he might have lived through the play, and died in
his bed, without danger to a poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in
quest of truth, that, in a pointed sentence, more regard is commonly
had to the word than the thought, and that it is very seldom to
be rigorously understood. Mercutio's wit, gaiety and courage, will
always procure him friends that wish him a longer life; but his
death is not precipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him
in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of
Shakespeare to have continued his existence, though some of his
sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was
not very fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour, but acute,
argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime.
The Nurse is one of the characters in which the Authour delighted:
he has, with great subtility of distinction, drawn her at once
loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest.
His comick scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetick strains
are always polluted with some unexpected depravations. His persons,
however distressed, HAVE A CONCEIT LEFT THEM IN THEIR MISERY, A
MISERABLE CONCEIT.
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