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't is gone.

And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once entangled, 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 woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being angered, 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, closed 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.



2nd Cap.

Scene V.-A Hall in Capulet's House.

You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musicians,

play. A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls.

[Music plays, and they dance. More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hotAh, sirrah, this unlooked-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?

By 'r lady, thirty years. Cap. What, man! 't is not so much, 't is not

so much : "T is since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we masked. 2nd Cap. ”T is more, 't is more : his son is

elder, sir; His son is thirty. Сар.

Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. Rom. 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

Her beauty 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 shews a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shews.
The measure done, I 'll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blesséd 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, covered with an antick 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.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. 1st Serv. Where 's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

2nd Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 't is a foul thing.

1st Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate :-good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.–Antony and Potpan ?

2nd Serv. Ay, boy; ready.

1st Serv. You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

2nd Serv. We cannot be here and there too. -Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all.

[They retire behind. Enter Capulet, fc., with the Guests and the

Maskers. Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have

their toes Unplagued with corns will have about with you:



Rom. Then move not while my prayer's effect

I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.

[Kissing her. Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they

have took. Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly

Give me my sin again.

Jul. You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word


with you.


Cap. Young Romeo is 't?
Tyb. *T is he, that villain Romeo.

1st Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him,
To be a virtuous and well-governed 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,
Shew 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 endured. 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

You 'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you 'll be the man!

Tyb. Why, uncle, 't is a shame.

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 contráry me! marry, 't is timeWell 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 bitter gall. [Exit. Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand

[To Juliet. 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 shews in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do

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

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. 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 nursed her daughter, that you talked 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, begone; 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 !—Come on, then let's to

bed. Ah, sirrah (to 2nd Cap.), by my fay, it waxes

late; I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse. Jul. Come hither, nurse: what is yon gen

tleman ?
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 Pe-

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 loathéd enemy.

Nurse. What's this; what's this?

Jul. A rhyme I learned even now Of one I danced withal.

[One calls within, “ Juliet.” Nurse. Anon, anon :Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.



Enter Chorus.

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir; That fair for which love groaned for, and would die,

With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair. Now Romeo is beloved, and loves again,

Alike, bewitchéd by the charm of looks; But to his foe supposed 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 inuch in love, her means much less

To meet her new-belovéd anywhere: But passion lends them power, time means, to meet Tump'ring extremities with extreme sweet.


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Stesz I.-- An open Place, adjoining Capulet's


Enter Romeo. Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.

Enter Benvolio and Mercurio. Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo !

Mer. He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leaped 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 “Ah me!" couple 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 loved the beggar-maid.

He heareth not, he stirreth not, he 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; 't would anger

him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it and conjured it down; That were some spite : my invocation Is fair and honest; and, 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.


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 't is in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found.



Enter Romeo. Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.

[Juliet appears above, at a window. 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; 0, 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; 't is 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

As daylight doth a lamp: her eye 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 hana,
That I might touch that cheek!

Jul. Ah me!

She speaks :-
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a wingéd messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturnéd wondering 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. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

[Aside. 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 called,
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 baptized :
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreened

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 not yet drunk a hundred

words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair maid, 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 stop to me.

Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder 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 eyes;

And, but thou love me, let them find me here:
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death proroguéd, wanting of thy love.
Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this

place? Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to in

quire : He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise. Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my


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