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ROMEO AND JULIET.
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
PARIS, a young nobleman, kinsman to the Prince.
MERCUTIO, kinsman to the Prince, and friend to
BENVOLIO, nephew to Montague, and friend to
TYBALT, nephew to Lady Capulet. Friar LAURENCE, a franciscan. Friar JOHN, of the same order. BALTHAZAR, servant to Romeo. SAMPSON,
servants to Capulet.
ABRAM, servant to Montague.
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
Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife.
Three Musicians. Chorus.
– during the greater Part of the Play, in VERONA: once in the Fifth Ac, u Mantua.
SCENE I. A publick Place.
Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with swords and bucklers.
Page to Paris. PETER.
Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry
Lady MONTAGUE, wife to Montague.
Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.
Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd leve,
Is now the two hours' traffick of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.
Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves
Gre. To move is -to stir; and to be valiant, is -to stand to it: therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou run'st away.
A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.
Abr. No better.
Enter several partizans of both houses, who join the ' fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
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.
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.
Prin. 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
[Exeunt PRINCE and Attendants; CAPULET,
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. La. Mon. O, where is Romeo! saw you him
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
So early walking did I see your son :
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. Ben. Have you impórtun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself - I will not say, how trueBut to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Enter ROMEO, at a distance.
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 Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom.
Is the day so young?
Ah me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was: - -What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them short. Ben. In love?
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 any thing, of nothing first create ! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen 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.
1 rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
At thy good heart's oppression
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 she is 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 marks-man! - 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 the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is 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.
'Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more :. These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Being black, put 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, PARIS, and Servant.
Cap. And 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;
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
Signior Martino, and his wife and daughters; County Anselme, 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; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena.
Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO.
Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ;
Rom. Your plaintain leaf is excellent for that.
Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse.
La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head,
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Jul. How now, who calls?
What is your will?
La. Cap. This is the matter: - Nurse, give leave
We must talk in secret. -Nurse, come back again;
Madam, I am here.
La. Cap. She's not fourteen.
A fortnight, and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, [Reads. Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen, 3 K 4 2. mcht vern
Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls!
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven years:
And then husband my
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule? quoth he:
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said La. Cap. 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:
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd:
La. Cap. 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'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.
La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. La. Cap. 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 see how one another Tends content;
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride,
La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Madam, the guests are
come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the county
Nurse. Go, girl, seck happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.A Street.
Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or Six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and others.
Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
Ben. The date is out of such prolixity:
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this am
bling ; Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
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.