Page images


of us


These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd Give sentence on this execrable wretch, face,

That hath been breeder of these dire events. The last true duties of thy noble son.

Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish Marc. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,

him ; Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips : There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food : 0! were the sum of these that I should pay If any one relieves or pities him, Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them. For the offence he dies. This is our doom : Luc. Come hither, boy ; come, come, and learn Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.

Aar. O! why should wrath be mute, and fury To melt in showers: thy grandsire lov'd thee dumb ? well :

I am no baby, I, that with base prayers Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee, I should repent the evils I have done. Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did Many a matter hath he told to thee,

Would I perform, if I might have my will: Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;

If one good deed in all my life I did, In that respect, then, like a loving child, I do repent it from my very soul. Shed yet some small drops from thy tender Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor spring,

hence, Because kind nature doth require it so :

And give him burial in his father's grave. Friends should associate friends in grief and woe. My father and Lavinia shall forthwith Bid him farewell ; commit him to the grave ; 170 Be closed in our household's monument. Do him that kindness, and take leave of him. As for that heinous tiger, Tamora, Boy. O grandsire, grandsire ! even with all No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weeds

No mournful bell shall ring her burial ; Would I were dead, so you did live again. But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey. O Lord ! I cannot speak to him for weeping ; Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity; My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth. And, being so, shall have like want of pity. 200

See justice done on Aaron, that damn d Moor, Re-enter Attendants, with AARON.

By whom our heavy haps had their beginning : Pirst Rom. You sad Andronici, have done Then, afterwards, to order well the state, with woes :

| That like events may ne'er it ruinate. Exeunt.


my heart



ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.

PARIS, a young Nobleman, Kinsman to the


Uncle to Capulet.

ROMEO, Son to Montague.

Heads of two Houses, at variance
with each other.

MERCUTIO, Kinsman to the Prince, and Friend

to Romeo.

BENVOLIO, Nephew to Montague, and Friend

to Romeo.


TYBALT, Nephew to Lady Capulet.
FRIAR LAURENCE, a Franciscan.

Citizens of Verona; Kinsfolk of both Houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.


SCENE.-During the greater Part of the Play in Verona: once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua.

[blocks in formation]


SCENE I.-Verona. A public Place. Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with swords and bucklers.

FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order.
BALTHASAR, Servant to Romeo.

Servants to Capulet.

PETER, Servant to Juliet's nurse.
ABRAHAM, Servant to Montague.
An Apothecary.

Three Musicians.

Page to Paris; another Page; an Officer.
LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague.
LADY CAPULET, Wife to Capulet.
JULIET, Daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.

Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Samp. A dog of the house of Montague

moves me.


Gre. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand; therefore, if thou art moved, thou runnest away.

Samp. A dog of that house shall move me to stand I will take the wall of any man or maid


Gre. 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.

Gre. 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.

Gre. The heads of the maids?


Samp. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.

Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
Samp. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out
o' the collar.

Samp. I strike quickly, being moved.

Samp. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou


Gre. 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.

Gre. 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou badst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]








Lady Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to

seek a foe. Samp. My naked weapon is out: quarrel ; I will back thee.

Enter PRINCE, with his Train. Gre. How! turn thy back and run ?

Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Samp. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry ; I fear thee!

Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel, Samp. Let us take the law of our sides ; let Will they not hear ? What hol you men, you them begin.

beasts, Gre. I will frown as I pass by, and let them That quench the fire of your pernicious rage take it as they list.

With purple fountains issuing from your veins, Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,

On pain of torture, from those bloody hands thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, And hear the sentence of your moved prince. if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.

By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?

Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets, Samp. Aside to GREGORY. Is the law of our

And made Verona's ancient citizens side if I say ay ?

Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Gre. No.

To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Samp. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, If ever you disturb our streets again

Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate. sir; but I bite my thumb, sir, Gre. Do you quarrel, sir ?

Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

For this time, all the rest depart away:
Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Samp. If you do, sir, I am for you : I serve as

You, Capulet, shall go along with me; good a man as you.

And, Montague, come you this afternoon

To know our further pleasure in this case,
Abr. No better.
Samp. Well, sir.

To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Enter BENVOLIO.

Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, Lady MONTAGUE, Gre. A side to SAMPSON. Say "better': here

and BENVOLIO. comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Mon. Who set thisancient quarrel newabroach? Samp. Yes, better, sir.

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? Abr. You lie.

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary Samp. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, re

And yours close fighting ere I did approach: member thy swashing blow. They fight.

I drew to part them ; in the instant came Ben. Part, fools !

The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd, Put up your swords ; you know not what you do. Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, Beats down their swords. He swung about his head, and cut the winds, 120

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

While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Tyb. What! art thou drawn among these Camemoreand more, and fought on part and part, heartless hinds ?

Till the prince came, who parted either part. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. Lady Mon. 01 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'dsun Tyb. What! drawn, and talk of peace; I hate Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, the word,

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

80 Where, underneath the grove of sycamore Have at thee, coward !

They fight. That westward rooteth from the city's side,

So early walking did I see your son : Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; Towards him I made; but he was ware of me, then enter Citizens, with clubs.

And stole into the covert of the wood : First Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans ! strike! I, measuring his affections by my own, beat them down !

That most are busied when they're most alone, Down with the Capulets! down with the Pursu'd my humour not pursuing his, Montagues !

And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.

Mon. Many a morning bath he there been seen, Enter CAPULET in his gown ; and Lady

With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, CAPULET.

Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs : Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long But all so soon as the all-cheering sun sword, ho!

Should in the furthest east begin to draw Lady Cap. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, for a sword ?

Away from light steals home my beavy son, Cap. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And private in his chamber pens himself, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

| And makes himself an artificial night. Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE.

Black and portentous must this humour prove Mon. Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not;, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Ben. My poble uncle, do you know the cause ?




let me go.



Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him. Rom. What ! shall I groan and tell thee ! Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means ? Ben.

Groan! why, no; Mon. Both by myself and many other friends : | But sadly tell me who. But he, his own affections' counsellor,

Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will ; Is to himself, I will not say how true,

Ah ! word ill urg'd to one that is so ill. But to himself so secret and so close,

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. So far from sounding and discovery,

Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd. As is the bud bit with an envious worm,

Rom. A right good mark-man! And she's Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,

fair I love. Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Rom. Well, in that hit you miss : she 'll not We would as willingly give cure as know.

be hit

With Cupid's arrow ; she hath Dian's wit ; Enter ROMEO.

And, in strong proof of chastity well arm’d, Ben. See where he comes : so please you, step From love's weak childish bow she lives unaside ;

harm d. I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. She will not stay the siege of loving terms,

Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :

Excunt MONTAGUE and Lady. O! she is rich in beauty ; only poor Ben. Good morrow, cousin.

That when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Rom. Is the day so young ?

Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still Ben. But new struck nine.

live chaste ? Rom.

Ay me! sad hours seem long. Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes Was that my father that went hence so fast ? 170 huge waste; Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's For beauty starv'd with her severity hours !

Cuts beauty off from all posterity. Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, them short.

To merit bliss by making me despair: Ben. In love?

She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Rom. Out

Do I live dead that live to tell it now. Ben. Of love?

Ben. Be ruld by me; forget to think of her. Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Rom. O! teach me how I should forget to think

Ben. Alas! that love, so gentle in his view, Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes :
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof. Examine other beauties.
Rom. Alas! that love, whose view is muffled Rom.

"Tis the way still,

To call hers exquisite, in question more. Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was Being black put us in mind they hide the fair ; here?

He that is strucken blind cannot forget Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Here's much to do with hate, but more with love: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate ! What doth her beauty serve but as a note O any thing! of nothing first created.

Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair ? O heavy lightness ! serious vanity!

Farewell : thou canst not teach me to forget. Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debi. Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick

Exeunt. health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

SCENE II.- The Same. A Strect.
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh ?

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Serrani. No, coz, I rather weep. Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I, Rom. Good heart, at what?

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

At thy good heart's oppression. For men so old as we to keep the peace. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both ; Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long. Which thou wilt propagate to have it pressid But now, my lord, what say you to my suit ! With more of thine: this love that thou hastshown Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before : Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. My child is yet a stranger in the world, Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs ; She hath not seen the change of fourteen rears: Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes ; Let

vo more summers wither in their pride 29 Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears : Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. What is it else? a madness most discreet,

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

made. Farewell, my coz.

Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so ear's Ben, Soft, I will go along;

made. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but sbe,

Rom. Tut! I have lost myself ; I am not here ; She is the hopeful lady of my earth : This is not Romeo, he's some other where. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. ! 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



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 reckoning nene.
To Servant, giving a paper.
Come, go with me.
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.
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.
In good time.
I must to the learned.

Serv. To supper; to our house.
Rom. Whose house?

Serv. My master's.

Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that


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
Rest you merry!
crush a cup of wine.
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 eve
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


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 shows




Ben. Tut! man, one fire burns out another's burning,

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's lan-
guish :

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?
For your broken shin.
Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad-


Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.


SCENE III.-The Same.

man is ;

Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd and tormented, and-Good den, good fellow.

Serv. God gi' good den. I pray, sir, can you


Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. 60
Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without
book: but, I pray, can you read any thing 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.

A Room in CAPULET'S House.

Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve
year old,

I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird!
God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!

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. 72 A fair assembly; whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither?

Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse.

Lady Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

Jul. How now! who calls?


What is your will?

Lady Cap. This is the matter. Nurse, give
leave awhile,

I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
We must talk in secret: nurse, come back again;
Thou know'st my daughter 's of a pretty age. 10
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Lady Cap. She's not fourteen.

And yet, to my teen

Your mother.

Madam, I am here.

I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, be it spoken, I have but four, How long is it now

She is not fourteen.
To Lammas-tide?
A fortnight and odd days.
Lady Cap.
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 !—
But, as I said.
Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me.
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,


« PreviousContinue »