Imagini ale paginilor
[blocks in formation]

Page to Paris.

ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.

An Apothecary.
Paris, a young nobleman, kinsman to the Prince. Three Musicians.
Montague, heads of two houses, at variance with Chorus.
each other.

An old Man, uncle to Capulet.
Romeo, son to Montague.

Mercurio, kinsman to the Prince, and friend to An Officer.

Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Lady Montague, wife to Montague.

Ladv CAPULET, wife to Capulet.
Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.

Juliet, daughter to Capulet.
Friar LAURENCE, a franciscan.

Nurse to Juliet.
Friar John, of the same order.
Balthazar, servant to Romeo.

Citizens of Verona; several Men and Wonterin SAMPSON,

relations to both houses ; Maskers, Guards, Watchservants to Capulet.

men, and Attendants. ABRAM, servant to Montague.

SCENE, during the greater Part of the Play, in Verona: once in the Fifth Ax, u MANTUA.


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.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd lerc

And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could re-

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




SCENE I. - A publick Place.

Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.

Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Enter Sampson and GREGORY, armed with swords

Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves and bucklers. Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry

Gre. To move is - - to stir; and to be valiant, is coals.

— to stand to it: therefore, if thou art inov'd, thou Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.

run'st away. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to

Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of the collar.


Gre. That shows thee a weak slave ; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Enter several partizans of both houses, who join the Sam. True; and therefore women, being the

fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs. weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall : — there- 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat fore I will push Montague's men from the wall,

them down ! and thrust his maids to the wall.

Down with the Capulets ! down with the MontaGre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us

gues ! their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant :

Enter CAPULET, in his gown; and Lady CAPULET. when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel Cap. What noise is this? — Give me my long with the maids; I will cut off their heads.

sword, bo! Gre. The heads of the maids ?

La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their

a sword ? maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

Cap. My sword, I say ! - Old Montague is come, Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. And fourishes his blade in spite of me.

Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE. flesh.

Mon. Thou villain Capulet, — Hold me not, let Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst,

me go. thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool ; here La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seck a comes two of the house of the Montagues.

foe. Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR.

Enter Prince, with Attendants. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, back thee.

Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel, Gre. How? turn thy back, and run ?

Will they not hear ? — what ho! you men, you Sam. Fear me not.

beasts, Gre. No, marry : I fear thee!

That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Sam. Let us take the law of our sides ; let them With purple fountains issuing from your veins, begin.

On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, take it as they list.

And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, bear it.

Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; Atr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

And made Verona's ancient citizens Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.

Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? To wield our partizans, in hands as old, Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say — ay? Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate : Gre. No.

If ever you disturb our streets again, Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. sir ; but I bite my thumb, sir.

For this time, all the rest depart away: Gre. Do you quarrel, sir ?

You, Capulet, shall go along with me; Abr. Quarrel, sir ? no, sir.

And, Montague, come you this afternoon, Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as To know our further pleasure in this case, good a man as you.

To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Abr. No better.

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Sam. Well, sir.

[Exeunt Prince and Attendants; CAPULET,

Lady CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, and Enter Benvolio, at a distance.

Servants. Gre. Say - better; here comes one of my mas- Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?-ter's kinsmen.

Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Sam. Yes, better, sir.

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, Abr. You lie.

And yours, close fighting cre I did approach : Sum. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remem- I drew to part them ; in the instant came ber thy swashing blow.

[They fight. The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar’d; Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, not what you do. [Beats down their swords. He swung about his head, and cut the winds,

Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn : Enter TYBALT.

While we were intorchanging thrusts and blows, Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these hartless Came more and more, and fought on part and part, hinds?

Till the prince came, who parted either part. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

La. Mon. (), where is Romeo ! - saw you him Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy

To-day? sword,

Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Or manage it to part these men with me.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace ? I hate Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, the wold,

A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad ; As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee :

Where, - underneath the grove of sycamore, Have at thee, coward.

[They fighi. ! That westward rooteth from the city's side,

So early walking did I see your son :

Rom. Good heart, at what ? Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, Ben.

At thy good heart's oppression And stole into the covert of the wood :

Rom. Why, such is love's transgressi ən. 1, measuring his affections by my own, —

Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; That most are busied when they are most alone, – Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,

With more of thine : this love, that thou hast shown, And gladly shunn'd who gladly tied from me. Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs : Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears : But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

What is it else ? a madness most discreet, Should in the further east begin to draw

A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,

Farewell, my coz.

[Going, Away from light steals home my heavy son,


Soft, I will go along; And private in his chamber pens himself;

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; And makes himself an artificial night :

This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Black and portentous must this humour prove, Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love. Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Ben.

Groan ? why, no; Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. But sadly tell me, who. Ben. Have you impórtun’d him by any means ? Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:

Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends : Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!. But he, his own affections' counsellor,

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Is to himself - I will not say, how true

Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lor'd. But to himself so secret and so close,

Rom. A right good marks-man ! And she's So far from sounding and discovery,

fair I love. As is the bud bit with an envious worm,

Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Ere he can spread his sweat leaves to the air,

Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss : she'll not be hit Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, And, in strong proof of chastity well arm’d, We would as willingly give cure, as know.

From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.

She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Enter Romeo, at a distance.

Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Ben. Sce, where he comes: So please you, step Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: aside;

0, she is rich in beauty; only poor, I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.

That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.

chaste ? [E.reunt Montague and Lady. Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge Ben. Good morrow, cousin.

waste; Rom.

Is the day so young? For beauty, starv'd with her severity, Ben. But new struck nine.

Cuts beauty off froin all posterity.

Ah me! sad hours seem long. She is too fair, too wise ; wisely too fair,
Was that my father that went hence so fast ? To merit bliss by making me despair :
Ben. It was: - - What sadness lengthens Romeo's She hath forsworn to love ; and, in that vow,
hours ?

Do I live dead, that live to tell it now. Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes Ben Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. them short.

Rom. O teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. In love?

Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Rom. Out.

Examine other beauties. Ben. Of love ?


'Tis the way Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. To call hers, exquisite, in question more :.

Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;

Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will ! The precious treasure of his eyesight lost : Where shall we dine ? O me! - What fray was Show me a mistress that is passing fair, here?

Wbai doth her beauty serve, but as a note Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair ? Here's much to do with hate, but more with love :

Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. Why then, O brawling love ! O loving hate !

Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. O any thing, of nothing first create !

[Exeunt. O heavy lightness ! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms !

SCENE II. - A Street.
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

Enler CAPUŁET, Paris, and Servant.
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Dost thou not laugh?

In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, Ben.

For men so old as we to keep the peace.

No, coz.,

I rather weep.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both ; Signior Martino, and his wife and dvighters ; And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long.

Courly Anselme, and his beauteous sisters ; the lady But now, my lord, what say you to my suit ? widow of Vitruvio ; Signior Placentio, and his lovely

Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: nieces ; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine ; Mine My child is yet a stranger in the world,

uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair She hath not seen the change of fourteen years ; niece Rosaline; Livia ; Signior Valentio, and his Let two more summers wither in their pride, cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

A fair assembly; [gives back the note.] Whither Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.

should they come? Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made.

Serv. Up. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,

Rom. Whither ? She is the hopeful lady of my earth :

Serv. To supper ; to our house. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

Rom. Whose house? My will to her consent is but a part ;

Serv. My master's. An she agree, within her scope of choice

Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that Lies my consent and fair according voice.

before. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest,

Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My

master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not Such as I love; and you, among the store,

of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush One more, most welcome, makes my number more.

a cup of wine.
Rest you merry.

(Erit. At my poor house, look to behold this night

Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Earth -treading stars, that make dark heaven light:

Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel

With all the admired beauties of Verona : When well apparell’d April on the heel

Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, 2 Of limping winter treads, even such delight

Compare her face with some that I shall show, Among fresh female buds shall you this night

And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye And like her most, whose merit most shall be:

Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires ! Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one,

And these, -who, often drown'd, could never die, May stand in number, though in reckoning none.

Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars ! Come, go with me; Go, sirrah, trudge about

One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Through fair Verona; find those persons out, Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. Whose names are written there, [gives a paper.]

Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, and to them say,

Herself pois'd with herself in either eye : My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd [Exeunt CAPULET and Paris.

Your lady's love against some other maid Serv. Find them out, whose names are written

That I will show you, shining at this feast, here? It is written - that the shoemaker should

And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. meddle with his yard, and the taylor with his last,

Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his

But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. (Exeunt. nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names SCENE III. A Room in Capulet's House. the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned : - • In good time.

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter ? call her Enter BENVOLIO and Romeo.

forth to me. Ben. Tut, man ! one fire burns out another's Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head, at twelve

burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; 2

I bade her come.

e.-What, lamb! what, lady-bird !Turn giddy, and be holp' by backward turning ; God forbid ! where's this girl ? — what, Juliet!

One desperate grief cures with another's languish : Take thou some new infection to the eye,

Enter JULIET. And the rank poison of the old will die.

Tul. How now, who calls ? Rom. Your plaintain leaf is excellent for that. Nurse.

Your mother. Ben. For what, I pray thee?


Madam, I am here. Rom.

For your broken shin. What is your will ? Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad ?

La. Cap. This is the matter : - Nurse, give leave Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman


We must talk in secret. - Nurse, come back again ; Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. Whipp'd, and tormented, and — Good-e'en, good Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. fellow.

Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. Serv. God gi' good e'en. I pray, sir, can you La. Cap. She's not fourteen. read?


I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,

Serv. Perhaps you have learn’d it without book : She is not fourteen – How long is it now
But I pray, can you read any thing you see? To Lammas-tide ?
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. La. Cap.

A fortnight, and odd days. Serv. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry!

Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Rom. Stay, fellow : I can read. [Reads. I Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen,

3 K 4

year old,

is :

[ocr errors]



Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls ! Read o'er the volume oi young Paris' face,
Were of an age.

- Well, Susan is with God; And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; She was too good for me : But, as I said,

Examine every married lineament,
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; And see how one another Tends content;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.

And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, "Tis since the earthquake now eleven years ;

Find written in the margin of his eyes. And she was wean'd, I never shall forget it, This precious book of love, this unbound lover, Of all the days of the year, upon that day :

To beautify him, only lacks a cover : For I had then laid worm wood to my dug,

The fish lives in the sea ; and 'tis much pride, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, For fair without the fair, within to hide : My lord and you were then at Mantua :

That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, Nay, I do bear a brain : - - but, as I said,

That in gold clasps locks in the golden story ; When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple So shall you share all that he doth possess, Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool!

By having him, making yourself no less. To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug.

Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger ; women grow by Shake, quoth the dove-house : 'twas no need, I trow,

La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' To bid me trudge.

love? And since that time it is eleven years :

Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move : For then she could stand alone ; nay, by the rood, But no more deep will I endart mine eye, She could have run and waddled all about.

Than your consent gives strength to make it For even the day before, she broke her brow :

Enter a Servant. And then my husband God be with his soul!

Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper 'A was a merry man; - took up the child : Yea, quoth he, dnst thou fall upon thy face?

served up, you called, my young lady asked for,

the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in Thou will fall backward, when thou hast more wit ;

extremity." I must hence to wait; I beseech you, Wilt thou not, Jule? and, by my holy dam,

follow straight. The pretty wretch left crying, and said - Ay :

La. Cap. We follow thee. — Juliet, the county To see now, how a jest shall come about !

stays. I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it ; Wilt thou not, Jule ? quoth

Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to liappy days.

[Ereunt. And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said

- Ay.

SCENE IV. - A Street. La. Cap. Enough of this ; I pray thee, hold thy Enter Romeo, Mercurio, Benvolio, with Fire or peace.

Sir Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and others. Nurse. Yes, madam ; yet I cannot choose but laugh,

Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our To think it should leave crying, and say - Ay :

excuse ? And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow

Or shall we on without apology? A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone;

Ben. The date is out of such prolixity : A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.

We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,
Yea, quoth my husband, fall' st upon thy face? Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com'st to age ;

Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said - Ay. Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say

I. After the prompter, for our entrance : Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to But let them measure us by what they will, his grace!

We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: Rom. Give me a torch, - I am not for this amAn I might live to see thee married once,

bling; I have my wish.

Being but heavy, I will bear the light. La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you I came to talk of: - Tell me, daughter Juliet,

dance. How stands your disposition to be married ?

Rom. Not I, believe me : you have dancing shoes, Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

With nimble soles : I have a soul of lead, Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger

And soar with them above a common bound.

Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, Are made already mothers : by my count,

I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : I was your mother much upon these years

Under love's heavy burden do I sink. That you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief ;- Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Too great oppression for a tender thing. Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man,

Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, As all the world — Why, he's a man of wax, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn.

La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

love ; La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the gen- Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. tleman ?

Give me a case to put my visage iu : This night you shall behold him at our feast :

["'utting on a nuski

than you,

[ocr errors]
« ÎnapoiContinuați »