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[2/4] incubator-beam git commit: [BEAM-338] Cleanup Spark runner test
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-\ufeffThe Project Gutenberg EBook of Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Romeo and Juliet
-
-Author: William Shakespeare
-
-Posting Date: May 25, 2012 [EBook #1112]
-Release Date: November, 1997 [Etext #1112]
-
-Language: English
-
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROMEO AND JULIET ***
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-*Project Gutenberg is proud to cooperate with The World Library*
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-The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
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-The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet
-
-The Library of the Future Complete Works of William Shakespeare
-Library of the Future is a TradeMark (TM) of World Library Inc.
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-1595
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Chorus.
-
-
- Escalus, Prince of Verona.
-
- Paris, a young Count, kinsman to the Prince.
-
- Montague, heads of two houses at variance with each other.
-
- Capulet, heads of two houses at variance with each other.
-
- An old Man, of the Capulet family.
-
- Romeo, son to Montague.
-
- Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.
-
- Mercutio, kinsman to the Prince and friend to Romeo.
-
- Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo
-
- Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.
-
- Friar Laurence, Franciscan.
-
- Friar John, Franciscan.
-
- Balthasar, servant to Romeo.
-
- Abram, servant to Montague.
-
- Sampson, servant to Capulet.
-
- Gregory, servant to Capulet.
-
- Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse.
-
- An Apothecary.
-
- Three Musicians.
-
- An Officer.
-
-
- Lady Montague, wife to Montague.
-
- Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.
-
- Juliet, daughter to Capulet.
-
- Nurse to Juliet.
-
-
- Citizens of Verona; Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of both houses;
- Maskers, Torchbearers, Pages, Guards, Watchmen, Servants, and
- Attendants.
-
- SCENE.--Verona; Mantua.
-
-
-
- THE PROLOGUE
-
- Enter Chorus.
-
-
- Chor. 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 loins of these two foes
- A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
- Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows
- Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
- The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
- And the continuance of their parents' rage,
- Which, but their children's end, naught 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.]
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-Verona. A public place.
-
-Enter Sampson and Gregory (with swords and bucklers) of the house
-of Capulet.
-
-
- Samp. Gregory, on my word, we'll not carry coals.
-
- Greg. No, for then we should be colliers.
-
- Samp. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
-
- Greg. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar.
-
- Samp. I strike quickly, being moved.
-
- Greg. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
-
- Samp. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
-
- Greg. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand.
- Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
-
- Samp. A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I will take
- the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
-
- Greg. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the
- wall.
-
- Samp. 'Tis true; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,
- are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Montague's men
- from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall.
-
- Greg. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
-
- Samp. 'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have
- fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids- I will cut off
- their heads.
-
- Greg. The heads of the maids?
-
- Samp. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads.
- Take it in what sense thou wilt.
-
- Greg. They must take it in sense that feel it.
-
- Samp. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and 'tis known I
- am a pretty piece of flesh.
-
- Greg. 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst
- been poor-John. Draw thy tool! Here comes two of the house of
- Montagues.
-
- Enter two other Servingmen [Abram and Balthasar].
-
-
- Samp. My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee.
-
- Greg. How? turn thy back and run?
-
- Samp. Fear me not.
-
- Greg. No, marry. I fear thee!
-
- Samp. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
-
- Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
-
- Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is
- disgrace to them, if they bear it.
-
- Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
-
- Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.
-
- Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
-
- Samp. [aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side if I say ay?
-
- Greg. [aside to Sampson] No.
-
- Samp. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my
- thumb, sir.
-
- Greg. Do you quarrel, sir?
-
- Abr. Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
-
- Samp. But if you do, sir, am for you. I serve as good a man as
- you.
-
- Abr. No better.
-
- Samp. Well, sir.
-
- Enter Benvolio.
-
-
- Greg. [aside to Sampson] Say 'better.' Here comes one of my
- master's kinsmen.
-
- Samp. Yes, better, sir.
-
- Abr. You lie.
-
- Samp. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
- They fight.
-
- Ben. Part, fools! [Beats down their swords.]
- Put up your swords. You know not what you do.
-
- Enter Tybalt.
-
-
- Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
- Turn thee Benvolio! look upon thy death.
-
- Ben. I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword,
- Or manage it to part these men with me.
-
- Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word
- As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.
- Have at thee, coward! They fight.
-
- Enter an officer, and three or four Citizens with clubs or
- partisans.
-
-
- Officer. Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! beat them down!
-
- Citizens. Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
-
- Enter Old Capulet in his gown, and his Wife.
-
-
- Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
-
- Wife. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
-
- Cap. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come
- And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
-
- Enter Old Montague and his Wife.
-
-
- Mon. Thou villain Capulet!- Hold me not, let me go.
-
- M. Wife. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
-
- Enter Prince Escalus, with his Train.
-
-
- Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
- Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel-
- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
- That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
- With purple fountains issuing from your veins!
- On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
- Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground
- And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
- Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word
- By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
- Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets
- And made Verona's ancient citizens
- Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments
- To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
- Cank'red with peace, to part your cank'red hate.
- If ever you disturb our streets again,
- Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
- For this time all the rest depart away.
- You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
- And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
- To know our farther pleasure in this case,
- To old Freetown, our common judgment place.
- Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
- Exeunt [all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio].
-
- Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
- Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
-
- Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary
- And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.
- I drew to part them. In the instant came
- The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd;
- Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
- He swung about his head and cut the winds,
- Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn.
- While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
- Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
- Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
-
- M. Wife. O, where is Romeo? Saw you him to-day?
- Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
-
- Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
- Peer'd forth the golden window of the East,
- A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
- Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
- That westward rooteth from the city's side,
- 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.
- I- measuring his affections by my own,
- Which then most sought where most might not be found,
- Being one too many by my weary self-
- Pursu'd my humour, not Pursuing his,
- And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
-
- 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;
- But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
- Should in the furthest East bean to draw
- The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
- Away from light steals home my heavy son
- And private in his chamber pens himself,
- Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight
- And makes himself an artificial night.
- Black and portentous must this humour prove
- Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
-
- Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
-
- Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him
-
- Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
-
- Mon. Both by myself and many other friend;
- But he, his own affections' counsellor,
- Is to himself- I will not say how true-
- But to himself so secret and so close,
- So far from sounding and discovery,
- As is the bud bit with an envious worm
- Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air
- Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
- Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
- We would as willingly give cure as know.
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
-
- Ben. See, where he comes. So please you step aside,
- I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
-
- Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
- To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away,
- Exeunt [Montague and Wife].
-
- Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
-
- Rom. Is the day so young?
-
- Ben. But new struck nine.
-
- Rom. Ay 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-
-
- Ben. Of love?
-
- Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love.
-
- Ben. Alas that love, so gentle in his view,
- Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
-
- Rom. Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
- Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
- Where shall we dine? O 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.
- Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
- O anything, of nothing first create!
- O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
- Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
- Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
- Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is
- This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
- Dost thou not laugh?
-
- Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
-
- Rom. Good heart, at what?
-
- Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
-
- Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.
- Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
- Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
- With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
- Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
- Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
- Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
- Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.
- What is it else? A madness most discreet,
- A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
- Farewell, my coz.
-
- Ben. Soft! I will go along.
- An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
-
- Rom. Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here:
- This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
-
- Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?
-
- Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
-
- Ben. Groan? Why, no;
- But sadly tell me who.
-
- Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will.
- Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!
- In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
-
- Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.
-
- Rom. A right good markman! And she's fair I love.
-
- Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
-
- Rom. Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit
- With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit,
- And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
- From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
- She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
- Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes,
- Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.
- O, she's rich in beauty; only poor
- That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
-
- Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
-
- Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
- For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
- Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
- She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
- To merit bliss by making me despair.
- She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
- Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
-
- Ben. Be rul'd 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. 'Tis the way
- To call hers (exquisite) in question more.
- These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,
- Being black puts us in mind they hide the fair.
- He that is strucken blind cannot forget
- The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
- Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
- What doth her beauty serve but as a note
- Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
- Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget.
-
- Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A Street.
-
-Enter Capulet, County Paris, and [Servant] -the Clown.
-
-
- Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I,
- In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
- For men so old as we to keep the peace.
-
- Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both,
- And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.
- But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
-
- Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
- My child is yet a stranger in the world,
- She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
- Let two more summers wither in their pride
- Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
-
- Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
-
- Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
- The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;
- She is the hopeful lady of my earth.
- But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart;
- My will to her consent is but a part.
- An she agree, within her scope of choice
- Lies my consent and fair according voice.
- This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
- Whereto I have invited many a guest,
- Such as I love; and you among the store,
- One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
- At my poor house look to behold this night
- Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.
- Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
- When well apparell'd April on the heel
- Of limping Winter treads, even such delight
- Among fresh female buds shall you this night
- Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
- And like her most whose merit most shall be;
- Which, on more view of many, mine, being one,
- May stand in number, though in reck'ning none.
- Come, go with me. [To Servant, giving him a paper] Go,
- sirrah, trudge about
- Through fair Verona; find those persons out
- Whose names are written there, and to them say,
- My house and welcome on their pleasure stay-
- Exeunt [Capulet and Paris].
-
- Serv. Find them out whose names are written here? It is written
- that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard and the tailor
- with his last, the fisher with his pencil and the painter
- with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are
- here writ, and can never find what names the writing person
- hath here writ. I must to the learned. In good time!
-
- Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
-
-
- Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
- One pain is lessoned by another's anguish;
- Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
- One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
- Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
- And the rank poison of the old will die.
-
- Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
-
- Ben. For what, I pray thee?
-
- Rom. For your broken shin.
-
- Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
-
- Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;
- Shut up in Prison, kept without my food,
- Whipp'd and tormented and- God-den, good fellow.
-
- Serv. God gi' go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
-
- Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
-
- Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can
- you read anything you see?
-
- Rom. Ay, If I know the letters and the language.
-
- Serv. Ye say honestly. Rest you merry!
-
- Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read. He reads.
-
- 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
- County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters;
- The lady widow of Vitruvio;
- Signior Placentio and His lovely nieces;
- Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
- Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters;
- My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;
- Signior Valentio and His cousin Tybalt;
- Lucio and the lively Helena.'
-
- [Gives back the paper.] A fair assembly. Whither should they
- come?
-
- Serv. Up.
-
- Rom. Whither?
-
- Serv. To supper, to our house.
-
- Rom. Whose house?
-
- Serv. My master's.
-
- Rom. Indeed I should have ask'd you that before.
-
- Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great
- rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray
- come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry! Exit.
-
- Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
- Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st;
- With all the admired beauties of Verona.
- Go thither, and with unattainted eye
- Compare her face with some that I shall show,
- And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
-
- Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
- Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;
- And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,
- Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
- One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
- Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
-
- Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
- Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;
- But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
- Your lady's love against some other maid
- That I will show you shining at this feast,
- And she shall scant show well that now seems best.
-
- Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
- But to rejoice in splendour of my own. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Enter Capulet's Wife, and Nurse.
-
-
- Wife. Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.
-
- Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old,
- I bade her come. What, lamb! what ladybird!
- God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
-
- Jul. How now? Who calls?
-
- Nurse. Your mother.
-
- Jul. Madam, I am here.
- What is your will?
-
- Wife. This is the matter- Nurse, give leave awhile,
- We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again;
- I have rememb'red me, thou's hear our counsel.
- Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age.
-
- Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
-
- Wife. She's not fourteen.
-
- Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth-
- And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four-
- She is not fourteen. How long is it now
- To Lammastide?
-
- Wife. A fortnight and odd days.
-
- Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
- Come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen.
- Susan and she (God rest all Christian souls!)
- Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
- She was too good for me. But, as I said,
- On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen;
- That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
- 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
- And she was wean'd (I never shall forget it),
- Of all the days of the year, upon that day;
- For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
- Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall.
- My lord and you were then at Mantua.
- Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said,
- When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
- Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
- To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
- Shake, quoth the dovehouse! 'Twas no need, I trow,
- To bid me trudge.
- And since that time it is eleven years,
- For then she could stand high-lone; nay, by th' rood,
- She could have run and waddled all about;
- For even the day before, she broke her brow;
- And then my husband (God be with his soul!
- 'A was a merry man) took up the child.
- 'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
- Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
- Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidam,
- The pretty wretch left crying, and said 'Ay.'
- To see now how a jest shall come about!
- I warrant, an I should live a thousand yeas,
- I never should forget it. 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he,
- And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said 'Ay.'
-
- Wife. Enough of this. I pray thee hold thy peace.
-
- Nurse. Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh
- To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
- And yet, I warrant, it bad upon it brow
- A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone;
- A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly.
- 'Yea,' quoth my husband, 'fall'st upon thy face?
- Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
- Wilt thou not, Jule?' It stinted, and said 'Ay.'
-
- Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
-
- Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
- Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd.
- An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
-
- Wife. Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
- I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
- How stands your disposition to be married?
-
- Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
-
- Nurse. An honour? Were not I thine only nurse,
- I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
-
- Wife. Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you,
- Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
- Are made already mothers. By my count,
- I was your mother much upon these years
- That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
- The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
-
- Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man
- As all the world- why he's a man of wax.
-
- Wife. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
-
- Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith- a very flower.
-
- Wife. What say you? Can you love the gentleman?
- This night you shall behold him at our feast.
- Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
- And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
- Examine every married lineament,
- And see how one another lends content;
- And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
- Find written in the margent of his eyes,
- This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
- To beautify him only lacks a cover.
- The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
- For fair without the fair within to hide.
- That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
- That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
- So shall you share all that he doth possess,
- By having him making yourself no less.
-
- Nurse. No less? Nay, bigger! Women grow by men
-
- Wife. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
-
- Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move;
- But no more deep will I endart mine eye
- Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
-
- Enter Servingman.
-
-
- Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd up, you call'd,
- my young lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd in the pantry, and
- everything in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you
- follow straight.
-
- Wife. We follow thee. Exit [Servingman].
- Juliet, the County stays.
-
- Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-A street.
-
-Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers;
-Torchbearers.
-
-
- Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
- Or shall we on without apology?
-
- Ben. The date is out of such prolixity.
- We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
- Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
- Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper;
- Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
- After the prompter, for our entrance;
- But, let them measure us by what they will,
- We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
-
- Rom. Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling.
- Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
-
- Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
-
- Rom. Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
- With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
- So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
-
- Mer. You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings
- And soar with them above a common bound.
-
- Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
- To soar with his light feathers; and so bound
- I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
- Under love's heavy burthen do I sink.
-
- Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love-
- Too great oppression for a tender thing.
-
- Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
- Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn.
-
- Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
- Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
- Give me a case to put my visage in.
- A visor for a visor! What care I
- What curious eye doth quote deformities?
- Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
-
- Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
- But every man betake him to his legs.
-
- Rom. A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart
- Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
- For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,
- I'll be a candle-holder and look on;
- The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
-
- Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word!
- If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
- Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
- Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
-
- Rom. Nay, that's not so.
-
- Mer. I mean, sir, in delay
- We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
- Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
- Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
-
- Rom. And we mean well, in going to this masque;
- But 'tis no wit to go.
-
- Mer. Why, may one ask?
-
- Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
-
- Mer. And so did I.
-
- Rom. Well, what was yours?
-
- Mer. That dreamers often lie.
-
- Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
-
- Mer. O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
- She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
- In shape no bigger than an agate stone
- On the forefinger of an alderman,
- Drawn with a team of little atomies
- Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
- Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,
- The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
- Her traces, of the smallest spider's web;
- Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;
- Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
- Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
- Not half so big as a round little worm
- Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
- Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
- Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
- Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
- And in this state she 'gallops night by night
- Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
- O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight;
- O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;
- O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
- Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
- Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
- Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
- And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
- And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
- Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
- Then dreams he of another benefice.
- Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
- And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
- Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
- Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon
- Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
- And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two
- And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
- That plats the manes of horses in the night
- And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish, hairs,
- Which once untangled much misfortune bodes
- This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
- That presses them and learns them first to bear,
- Making them women of good carriage.
- This is she-
-
- Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
- Thou talk'st of nothing.
-
- Mer. True, I talk of dreams;
- Which are the children of an idle brain,
- Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
- Which is as thin of substance as the air,
- And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
- Even now the frozen bosom of the North
- And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
- Turning his face to the dew-dropping South.
-
- Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves.
- Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
-
- Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives
- Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
- Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
- With this night's revels and expire the term
- Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
- By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
- But he that hath the steerage of my course
- Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!
-
- Ben. Strike, drum.
- They march about the stage. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Servingmen come forth with napkins.
-
- 1. Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
- He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!
- 2. Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
- hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.
- 1. Serv. Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cubbert,
- look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane and, as
- thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and
-Nell.
- Anthony, and Potpan!
- 2. Serv. Ay, boy, ready.
- 1. Serv. You are look'd for and call'd for, ask'd for and
- sought for, in the great chamber.
- 3. Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!
- Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Exeunt.
-
- Enter the Maskers, Enter, [with Servants,] Capulet, his Wife,
- Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests
- and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
-
-
- Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes
- Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you.
- Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
- Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
- She I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
- Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
- That I have worn a visor and could tell
- A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
- Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone!
- You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.
- A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
- Music plays, and they dance.
- More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up,
- And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
- Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
- Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
- For you and I are past our dancing days.
- How long is't now since last yourself and I
- Were in a mask?
- 2. Cap. By'r Lady, thirty years.
-
- Cap. What, man? 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
- 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
- Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
- Some five-and-twenty years, and then we mask'd.
- 2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir;
- His son is thirty.
-
- Cap. Will you tell me that?
- His son was but a ward two years ago.
-
- Rom. [to a Servingman] What lady's that, which doth enrich the
- hand Of yonder knight?
-
- Serv. I know not, sir.
-
- Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
- It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
- Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear-
- Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
- So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
- As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
- The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand
- And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
- Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
- For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
-
- Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
- Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave
- Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
- To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
- Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
- To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
-
- Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?
-
- Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
- A villain, that is hither come in spite
- To scorn at our solemnity this night.
-
- Cap. Young Romeo is it?
-
- Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
-
- Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
- 'A bears him like a portly gentleman,
- And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
- To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
- I would not for the wealth of all this town
- Here in my house do him disparagement.
- Therefore be patient, take no note of him.
- It is my will; the which if thou respect,
- Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
- An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
-
- Tyb. It fits when such a villain is a guest.
- I'll not endure him.
-
- Cap. He shall be endur'd.
- What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to!
- Am I the master here, or you? Go to!
- You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul!
- You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
- You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
-
- Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
-
- Cap. Go to, go to!
- You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed?
- This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what.
- You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time.-
- Well said, my hearts!- You are a princox- go!
- Be quiet, or- More light, more light!- For shame!
- I'll make you quiet; what!- Cheerly, my hearts!
-
- Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
- Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
- I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,
- Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall. Exit.
-
- Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest hand
- This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
- My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
- To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
-
- Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
- Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
- For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
- And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
-
- Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
-
- Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in pray'r.
-
- Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!
- They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
-
- Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
-
- Rom. Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.
- Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. [Kisses her.]
-
- Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
-
- Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
- Give me my sin again. [Kisses her.]
-
- Jul. You kiss by th' book.
-
- Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
-
- Rom. What is her mother?
-
- Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
- Her mother is the lady of the house.
- And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
- I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal.
- I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
- Shall have the chinks.
-
- Rom. Is she a Capulet?
- O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
-
- Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
-
- Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
-
- Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
- We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
- Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all.
- I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night.
- More torches here! [Exeunt Maskers.] Come on then, let's to bed.
- Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
- I'll to my rest.
- Exeunt [all but Juliet and Nurse].
-
- Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
-
- Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
-
- Jul. What's he that now is going out of door?
-
- Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
-
- Jul. What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
-
- Nurse. I know not.
-
- Jul. Go ask his name.- If he be married,
- My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
-
- Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
- The only son of your great enemy.
-
- Jul. My only love, sprung from my only hate!
- Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
- Prodigious birth of love it is to me
- That I must love a loathed enemy.
-
- Nurse. What's this? what's this?
-
- Jul. A rhyme I learnt even now
- Of one I danc'd withal.
- One calls within, 'Juliet.'
-
- Nurse. Anon, anon!
- Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-PROLOGUE
-
-Enter Chorus.
-
-
- Chor. Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
- And young affection gapes to be his heir;
- That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
- With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
- Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
- Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
- But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
- And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.
- Being held a foe, he may not have access
- To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear,
- And she as much in love, her means much less
- To meet her new beloved anywhere;
- But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
- Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Romeo alone.
-
-
- Rom. Can I go forward when my heart is here?
- Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
- [Climbs the wall and leaps down within it.]
-
- Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.
-
-
- Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!
-
- Mer. He is wise,
- And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.
-
- Ben. He ran this way, and leapt this orchard wall.
- Call, good Mercutio.
-
- Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.
- Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
- Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;
- Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied!
- Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove';
- Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
- One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
- Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim
- When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar maid!
- He heareth not, he stirreth not, be moveth not;
- The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
- I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes.
- By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
- By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
- And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
- That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
-
- Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
-
- Mer. This cannot anger him. 'Twould anger him
- To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
- Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
- Till she had laid it and conjur'd it down.
- That were some spite; my invocation
- Is fair and honest: in his mistress' name,
- I conjure only but to raise up him.
-
- Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees
- To be consorted with the humorous night.
- Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
-
- Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
- Now will he sit under a medlar tree
- And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
- As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.
- O, Romeo, that she were, O that she were
- An open et cetera, thou a pop'rin pear!
- Romeo, good night. I'll to my truckle-bed;
- This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
- Come, shall we go?
-
- Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain
- 'To seek him here that means not to be found.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Romeo.
-
-
- Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
-
- Enter Juliet above at a window.
-
- But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
- It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!
- Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
- Who is already sick and pale with grief
- That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
- Be not her maid, since she is envious.
- Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
- And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
- It is my lady; O, it is my love!
- O that she knew she were!
- She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
- Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
- I am too bold; 'tis not to me she speaks.
- Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
- Having some business, 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 shame those stars
- As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
- Would through the airy region stream so bright
- That birds would sing and think it were not night.
- See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
- O that I were a glove upon that hand,
- That I might touch that cheek!
-
- Jul. Ay me!
-
- Rom. She speaks.
- O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
- As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
- As is a winged messenger of heaven
- Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
- Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
- When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
- And sails upon the bosom of the air.
-
- Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
- Deny thy father and refuse thy name!
- Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
- And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
-
- Rom. [aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
-
- 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
- Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
- What's in a name? That which we call a rose
- By any other name would smell as sweet.
- So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
- Retain that dear perfection which he owes
- Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;
- And for that 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 man art thou that, thus bescreen'd in night,
- So stumblest on my counsel?
-
- Rom. By a name
- I know not how to tell thee who I am.
- My name, dear saint, 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 utterance, yet I know the sound.
- Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
-
- Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
-
- Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
- The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
- And the place death, considering who thou art,
- If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
-
- Rom. With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;
- For stony limits cannot hold love out,
- And what love can do, that dares love attempt.
- Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
-
- Jul. If they do see thee, they will murther thee.
-
- Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
- Than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet,
- And I am proof against their enmity.
-
- Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee here.
-
- Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
- 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 whose direction found'st thou out this place?
-
- Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to enquire.
- He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
- I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
- As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
- I would adventure for such merchandise.
-
- Jul. Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face;
- Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
- For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
- Fain would I dwell on form- fain, fain deny
- What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!
- Dost thou love me, I know thou wilt say 'Ay';
- And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,
- Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,
- They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
- If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.
- Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
- I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
- So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
- In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
- And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light;
- But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
- Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
- I should have been more strange, I must confess,
- But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
- My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,
- And not impute this yielding to light love,
- Which the dark night hath so discovered.
-
- Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
- That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-
-
- Jul. O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon,
- That monthly changes in her circled orb,
- Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
-
- Rom. What shall I swear by?
-
- Jul. Do not swear at all;
- Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
- Which is the god of my idolatry,
- And I'll believe thee.
-
- Rom. If my heart's dear love-
-
- Jul. Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,
- I have no joy of this contract to-night.
- It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden;
- Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
- Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
- This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
- May prove a beauteous flow'r when next we meet.
- Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest
- Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
-
- Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
-
- Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
-
- Rom. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
-
- Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;
- And yet I would it were to give again.
-
- Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?
-
- Jul. But to be frank and give it thee again.
- And yet I wish but for the thing I have.
- My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
- My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
- The more I have, for both are infinite.
- I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu!
- [Nurse] calls within.
- Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
- Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.]
-
- Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
- Being in night, all this is but a dream,
- Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
-
- Enter Juliet above.
-
-
- Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
- If that thy bent of love be honourable,
- Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
- By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
- Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
- And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
- And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
-
- Nurse. (within) Madam!
-
- Jul. I come, anon.- But if thou meanest not well,
- I do beseech thee-
-
- Nurse. (within) Madam!
-
- Jul. By-and-by I come.-
- To cease thy suit and leave me to my grief.
- To-morrow will I send.
-
- Rom. So thrive my soul-
-
- Jul. A thousand times good night! Exit.
-
- Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light!
- Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books;
- But love from love, towards school with heavy looks.
-
- Enter Juliet again, [above].
-
-
- Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer's voice
- To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
- Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud;
- Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
- And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
- With repetition of my Romeo's name.
- Romeo!
-
- Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name.
- How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
- Like softest music to attending ears!
-
- Jul. Romeo!
-
- Rom. My dear?
-
- Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow
- Shall I send to thee?
-
- Rom. By the hour of nine.
-
- Jul. I will not fail. 'Tis twenty years till then.
- I have forgot why I did call thee back.
-
- Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
-
- Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
- Rememb'ring how I love thy company.
-
- Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
- Forgetting any other home but this.
-
- Jul. 'Tis almost morning. I would have thee gone-
- And yet no farther than a wanton's bird,
- That lets it hop a little from her hand,
- Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
- And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
- So loving-jealous of his liberty.
-
- Rom. I would I were thy bird.
-
- Jul. Sweet, so would I.
- Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
- Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
- That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
- [Exit.]
-
- Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
- Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
- Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
- His help to crave and my dear hap to tell.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar, [Laurence] alone, with a basket.
-
-
- Friar. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night,
- Check'ring the Eastern clouds with streaks of light;
- And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
- From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels.
- Non, ere the sun advance his burning eye
- The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
- I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
- With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
- The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb.
- What is her burying gave, that is her womb;
- And from her womb children of divers kind
- We sucking on her natural bosom find;
- Many for many virtues excellent,
- None but for some, and yet all different.
- O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
- In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities;
- For naught so vile that on the earth doth live
- But to the earth some special good doth give;
- Nor aught so good but, strain'd from that fair use,
- Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
- Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
- And vice sometime's by action dignified.
- Within the infant rind of this small flower
- Poison hath residence, and medicine power;
- For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
- Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
- Two such opposed kings encamp them still
- In man as well as herbs- grace and rude will;
- And where the worser is predominant,
- Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
-
- Rom. Good morrow, father.
-
- Friar. Benedicite!
- What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
- Young son, it argues a distempered head
- So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.
- Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
- And where care lodges sleep will never lie;
- But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
- Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
- Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
- Thou art uprous'd with some distemp'rature;
- Or if not so, then here I hit it right-
- Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
-
- Rom. That last is true-the sweeter rest was mine.
-
- Friar. God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?
-
- Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No.
- I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
-
- Friar. That's my good son! But where hast thou been then?
-
- Rom. I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.
- I have been feasting with mine enemy,
- Where on a sudden one hath wounded me
- That's by me wounded. Both our remedies
- Within thy help and holy physic lies.
- I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
- My intercession likewise steads my foe.
-
- Friar. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift
- Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
-
- Rom. Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
- On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;
- As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,
- And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
- By holy marriage. When, and where, and how
- We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
- I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
- That thou consent to marry us to-day.
-
- Friar. Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!
- Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
- So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies
- Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
- Jesu Maria! What a deal of brine
- Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
- How much salt water thrown away in waste,
- To season love, that of it doth not taste!
- The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
- Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears.
- Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
- Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet.
- If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
- Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.
- And art thou chang'd? Pronounce this sentence then:
- Women may fall when there's no strength in men.
-
- Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
-
- Friar. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
-
- Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
-
- Friar. Not in a grave
- To lay one in, another out to have.
-
- Rom. I pray thee chide not. She whom I love now
- Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
- The other did not so.
-
- Friar. O, she knew well
- Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
- But come, young waverer, come go with me.
- In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
- For this alliance may so happy prove
- To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
-
- Rom. O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.
-
- Friar. Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-A street.
-
-Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
-
-
- Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
- Came he not home to-night?
-
- Ben. Not to his father's. I spoke with his man.
-
- Mer. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
- Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
-
- Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,
- Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
-
- Mer. A challenge, on my life.
-
- Ben. Romeo will answer it.
-
- Mer. Any man that can write may answer a letter.
-
- Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares,
- being dared.
-
- Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabb'd with a white
- wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love song; the
- very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's
- butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
-
- Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?
-
- Mer. More than Prince of Cats, I can tell you. O, he's the
- courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing
- pricksong-keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his
- minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom! the very
- butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist! a gentleman
- of the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah, the
- immortal passado! the punto reverse! the hay.
-
- Ben. The what?
-
- Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes-
- these new tuners of accent! 'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very
- tall man! a very good whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
- grandsir, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange
- flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardona-mi's, who stand
- so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old
- bench? O, their bones, their bones!
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
-
- Ben. Here comes Romeo! here comes Romeo!
-
- Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how
- art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch
- flowed in. Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench (marry, she
- had a better love to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy,
- Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, This be a gray eye or so,
- but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! There's a French
- salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
- fairly last night.
-
- Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
-
- Mer. The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?
-
- Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a
- case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
-
- Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a
- man to bow in the hams.
-
- Rom. Meaning, to cursy.
-
- Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it.
-
- Rom. A most courteous exposition.
-
- Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
-
- Rom. Pink for flower.
-
- Mer. Right.
-
- Rom. Why, then is my pump well-flower'd.
-
- Mer. Well said! Follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out
- thy pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may
- remain, after the wearing, solely singular.
-
- Rom. O single-sold jest, solely singular for the singleness!
-
- Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio! My wits faint.
-
- Rom. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs! or I'll cry a match.
-
- Mer. Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done; for
- thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am
- sure, I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose?
-
- Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not
- there for the goose.
-
- Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
-
- Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not!
-
- Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
-
- Rom. And is it not, then, well serv'd in to a sweet goose?
-
- Mer. O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch
- narrow to an ell broad!
-
- Rom. I stretch it out for that word 'broad,' which, added to
- the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
-
- Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now
- art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by
- art as well as by nature. For this drivelling love is like a
- great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in
- a hole.
-
- Ben. Stop there, stop there!
-
- Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
-
- Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
-
- Mer. O, thou art deceiv'd! I would have made it short; for I
- was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to
- occupy the argument no longer.
-
- Rom. Here's goodly gear!
-
- Enter Nurse and her Man [Peter].
-
-
- Mer. A sail, a sail!
-
- Ben. Two, two! a shirt and a smock.
-
- Nurse. Peter!
-
- Peter. Anon.
-
- Nurse. My fan, Peter.
-
- Mer. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face of
- the two.
-
- Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
-
- Mer. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
-
- Nurse. Is it good-den?
-
- Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is
- now upon the prick of noon.
-
- Nurse. Out upon you! What a man are you!
-
- Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
-
- Nurse. By my troth, it is well said. 'For himself to mar,'
- quoth 'a? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the
- young Romeo?
-
- Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you
- have found him than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest
- of that name, for fault of a worse.
-
- Nurse. You say well.
-
- Mer. Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i' faith! wisely,
- wisely.
-
- Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
-
- Ben. She will endite him to some supper.
-
- Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
-
- Rom. What hast thou found?
-
- Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is
- something stale and hoar ere it be spent
- He walks by them and sings.
-
- An old hare hoar,
- And an old hare hoar,
- Is very good meat in Lent;
- But a hare that is hoar
- Is too much for a score
- When it hoars ere it be spent.
-
- Romeo, will you come to your father's? We'll to dinner thither.
-
- Rom. I will follow you.
-
- Mer. Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell,
- [sings] lady, lady, lady.
- Exeunt Mercutio, Benvolio.
-
- Nurse. Marry, farewell! I Pray you, Sir, what saucy merchant
- was this that was so full of his ropery?
-
- Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and
- will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
-
- Nurse. An 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down, an
-'a
- were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; and if I cannot,
- I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his
- flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must
- stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!
-
- Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my
- weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you. I dare draw as
- soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the
- law on my side.
-
- Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me
- quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you,
- my young lady bid me enquire you out. What she bid me say, I
- will keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead
- her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of
- behaviour, as they say; for the gentlewoman is young; and
- therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were
- an ill thing to be off'red to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
-
- Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto
- thee-
-
- Nurse. Good heart, and I faith I will tell her as much. Lord,
- Lord! she will be a joyful woman.
-
- Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? Thou dost not mark me.
-
- Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I
- take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
-
- Rom. Bid her devise
- Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
- And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
- Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
-
- Nurse. No, truly, sir; not a penny.
-
- Rom. Go to! I say you shall.
-
- Nurse. This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there.
-
- Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall.
- Within this hour my man shall be with thee
- And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,
- Which to the high topgallant of my joy
- Must be my convoy in the secret night.
- Farewell. Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
- Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress.
-
- Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
-
- Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
-
- Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
- Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
-
- Rom. I warrant thee my man's as true as steel.
-
- Nurse. Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, Lord!
- when 'twas a little prating thing- O, there is a nobleman in
- town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she,
- good soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I
- anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man;
- but I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any
- clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both
- with a letter?
-
- Rom. Ay, nurse; what of that? Both with an R.
-
- Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the- No; I
- know it begins with some other letter; and she hath the prettiest
- sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you
- good to hear it.
-
- Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
-
- Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.] Peter!
-
- Peter. Anon.
-
- Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before, and apace.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Juliet.
-
-
- Jul. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
- In half an hour she 'promis'd to return.
- Perchance she cannot meet him. That's not so.
- O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts,
- Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams
- Driving back shadows over low'ring hills.
- Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love,
- And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
- Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
- Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
- Is three long hours; yet she is not come.
- Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
- She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
- My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
- And his to me,
- But old folks, many feign as they were dead-
- Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
-
- Enter Nurse [and Peter].
-
- O God, she comes! O honey nurse, what news?
- Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
-
- Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
- [Exit Peter.]
-
- Jul. Now, good sweet nurse- O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
- Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
- If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
- By playing it to me with so sour a face.
-
- Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile.
- Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I had!
-
- Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.
- Nay, come, I pray thee speak. Good, good nurse, speak.
-
- Nurse. Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile?
- Do you not see that I am out of breath?
-
- Jul. How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath
- To say to me that thou art out of breath?
- The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
- Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
- Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that.
- Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance.
- Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
-
- Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to
- choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. Though his face be better
- than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand and a
- foot, and a body, though they be not to be talk'd on, yet
- they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but, I'll
- warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve
-God.
- What, have you din'd at home?
-
- Jul. No, no. But all this did I know before.
- What says he of our marriage? What of that?
-
- Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!
- It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
- My back o' t' other side,- ah, my back, my back!
- Beshrew your heart for sending me about
- To catch my death with jauncing up and down!
-
- Jul. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
- Sweet, sweet, Sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
-
- Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous,
- and a kind, and a handsome; and, I warrant, a virtuous- Where
- is your mother?
-
- Jul. Where is my mother? Why, she is within.
- Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
- 'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
- "Where is your mother?"'
-
- Nurse. O God's Lady dear!
- Are you so hot? Marry come up, I trow.
- Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
- Henceforward do your messages yourself.
-
- Jul. Here's such a coil! Come, what says Romeo?
-
- Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
-
- Jul. I have.
-
- Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
- There stays a husband to make you a wife.
- Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks:
- They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
- Hie you to church; I must another way,
- To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
- Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark.
- I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
- But you shall bear the burthen soon at night.
- Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
-
- Jul. Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene VI.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar [Laurence] and Romeo.
-
-
- Friar. So smile the heavens upon this holy act
- That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
-
- Rom. Amen, amen! But come what sorrow can,
- It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
- That one short minute gives me in her sight.
- Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
- Then love-devouring death do what he dare-
- It is enough I may but call her mine.
-
- Friar. These violent delights have violent ends
- And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
- Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
- Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
- And in the taste confounds the appetite.
- Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
- Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
- Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
- Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.
- A lover may bestride the gossamer
- That idles in the wanton summer air,
- And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
-
- Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
-
- Friar. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
-
- Jul. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
-
- Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
- Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
- To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
- This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
- Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
- Receive in either by this dear encounter.
-
- Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
- Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
- They are but beggars that can count their worth;
- But my true love is grown to such excess
- cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
-
- Friar. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
- For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
- Till Holy Church incorporate two in one.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-A public place.
-
-Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Men.
-
-
- Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.
- The day is hot, the Capulets abroad.
- And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl,
- For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
-
- Mer. Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters
- the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and
- says 'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the
- second cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
-
- Ben. Am I like such a fellow?
-
- Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any in
- Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be
- moved.
-
- Ben. And what to?
-
- Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly,
- for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a
- man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast.
- Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
- other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an
- eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels
- as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as
- addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrell'd with a
- man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog
- that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a
- tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter, with
- another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt
- tutor me from quarrelling!
-
- Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should
- buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
-
- Mer. The fee simple? O simple!
-
- Enter Tybalt and others.
-
-
- Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
-
- Mer. By my heel, I care not.
-
- Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
- Gentlemen, good den. A word with one of you.
-
- Mer. And but one word with one of us?
- Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.
-
- Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me
- occasion.
-
- Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving
-
- Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
-
- Mer. Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make
- minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my
- fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!
-
- Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men.
- Either withdraw unto some private place
- And reason coldly of your grievances,
- Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.
-
- Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
- I will not budge for no man's pleasure,
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
-
- Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
-
- Mer. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery.
- Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower!
- Your worship in that sense may call him man.
-
- Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
- No better term than this: thou art a villain.
-
- Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
- Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
- To such a greeting. Villain am I none.
- Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.
-
- Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
- That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
-
- Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,
- But love thee better than thou canst devise
- Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;
- And so good Capulet, which name I tender
- As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
-
- Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
- Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.]
- Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?
-
- Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me?
-
- Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives.
-That I
- mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter,
-
- dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out
- of his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your
- ears ere it be out.
-
- Tyb. I am for you. [Draws.]
-
- Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
-
- Mer. Come, sir, your passado!
- [They fight.]
-
- Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
- Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage!
- Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
- Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
- Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
- Tybalt under Romeo's arm thrusts Mercutio in, and flies
- [with his Followers].
-
- Mer. I am hurt.
- A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
- Is he gone and hath nothing?
-
- Ben. What, art thou hurt?
-
- Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough.
- Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
- [Exit Page.]
-
- Rom. Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.
-
- Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;
- but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me to-morrow, and you
- shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this
- world. A plague o' both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a
- mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue,
-a
- villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil
- came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.
-
- Rom. I thought all for the best.
-
- Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
- Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
- They have made worms' meat of me. I have it,
- And soundly too. Your houses!
- [Exit. [supported by Benvolio].
-
- Rom. This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,
- My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt
- In my behalf- my reputation stain'd
- With Tybalt's slander- Tybalt, that an hour
- Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet,
- Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
- And in my temper soft'ned valour's steel
-
- Enter Benvolio.
-
-
- Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
- That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
- Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
-
- Rom. This day's black fate on moe days doth depend;
- This but begins the woe others must end.
-
- Enter Tybalt.
-
-
- Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
-
- Rom. Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain?
- Away to heaven respective lenity,
- And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!
- Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again
- That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
- Is but a little way above our heads,
- Staying for thine to keep him company.
- Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
-
- Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
- Shalt with him hence.
-
- Rom. This shall determine that.
- They fight. Tybalt falls.
-
- Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
- The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
- Stand not amaz'd. The Prince will doom thee death
- If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
-
- Rom. O, I am fortune's fool!
-
- Ben. Why dost thou stay?
- Exit Romeo.
- Enter Citizens.
-
-
- Citizen. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
- Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he?
-
- Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
-
- Citizen. Up, sir, go with me.
- I charge thee in the Prince's name obey.
-
-
- Enter Prince [attended], Old Montague, Capulet, their Wives,
- and [others].
-
-
- Prince. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
-
- Ben. O noble Prince. I can discover all
- The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
- There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
- That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
-
- Cap. Wife. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
- O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill'd
- Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
- For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
- O cousin, cousin!
-
- Prince. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
-
- Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did stay.
- Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
- How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
- Your high displeasure. All this- uttered
- With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd-
- Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
- Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
- With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast;
- Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
- And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
- Cold death aside and with the other sends
- It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
- Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,
- 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and swifter than his tongue,
- His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
- And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
- An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
- Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
- But by-and-by comes back to Romeo,
- Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
- And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I
- Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;
- And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
- This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
-
- Cap. Wife. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
- Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.
- Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
- And all those twenty could but kill one life.
- I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.
- Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.
-
- Prince. Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.
- Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
-
- Mon. Not Romeo, Prince; he was Mercutio's friend;
- His fault concludes but what the law should end,
- The life of Tybalt.
-
- Prince. And for that offence
- Immediately we do exile him hence.
- I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
- My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
- But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
- That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
- I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
- Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
- Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,
- Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
- Bear hence this body, and attend our will.
- Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Juliet alone.
-
-
- Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
- Towards Phoebus' lodging! Such a wagoner
- As Phaeton would whip you to the West
- And bring in cloudy night immediately.
- Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
- That runaway eyes may wink, and Romeo
- Leap to these arms untalk'd of and unseen.
- Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
- By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
- It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
- Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
- And learn me how to lose a winning match,
- Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
- Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
- With thy black mantle till strange love, grown bold,
- Think true love acted simple modesty.
- Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
- For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
- Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
- Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night;
- Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
- Take him and cut him out in little stars,
- And he will make the face of heaven so fine
- That all the world will be in love with night
- And pay no worship to the garish sun.
- O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
- But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
- Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day
- As is the night before some festival
- To an impatient child that hath new robes
- And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
-
- Enter Nurse, with cords.
-
- And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
- But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
- Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
- That Romeo bid thee fetch?
-
- Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords.
- [Throws them down.]
-
- Jul. Ay me! what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands
-
- Nurse. Ah, weraday! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
- We are undone, lady, we are undone!
- Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
-
- Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
-
- Nurse. Romeo can,
- Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
- Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
-
- Jul. What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?
- This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
- Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but 'I,'
- And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
- Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
- I am not I, if there be such an 'I';
- Or those eyes shut that make thee answer 'I.'
- If be be slain, say 'I'; or if not, 'no.'
- Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
-
- Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
- (God save the mark!) here on his manly breast.
- A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
- Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
- All in gore-blood. I swounded at the sight.
-
- Jul. O, break, my heart! poor bankrout, break at once!
- To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty!
- Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,
- And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
-
- Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
- O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman
- That ever I should live to see thee dead!
-
- Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
- Is Romeo slaught'red, and is Tybalt dead?
- My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
- Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
- For who is living, if those two are gone?
-
- Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
- Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
-
- Jul. O God! Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
-
- Nurse. It did, it did! alas the day, it did!
-
- Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
- Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
- Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
- D
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