Stretch him out longer. Edg. O, he is gone, indeed. Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long: He but usurp'd his life. Alb. Bear them from hence.-Our present business Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain [To KENT and EDGAR. Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls, and I must not say, no. Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest bath borne most; we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long. [Exeunt, with a dead march. ROMEO AND JULIET. PERSONS REPRESENTED. ESCALUS, Prince of Verona. PARIS, a young Nobleman, Kinsman to the Prince An OLD MAN, Uncle to Capulet. BENVOLIO, Nephew to Montague, and Friend to TYBALT, Nephew to Lady Capulet. FRIAR LAWRENCE, a Franciscan. FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order. BALTHAZAR, Servant to Romeo. GREGORY, ervants to Capulet. ABRAM, Servant to Montague. An APOTHECARY. Three MUSICIANS. 00 Sam. 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. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when maids; I will cut of their heads. I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the Gre. The heads of the maids ? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. 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 hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back CHORUS.-BOY, Page to Paris.-PETER.-An Officer. thee." LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague. LADY CAPULET, Wife to Capulet. JULIET, Daughter to Capulet. NURSE to Juliet. Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both Houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants. SCENE, during the greater part of the Play, in VERONA: once, in the fifth Act, at MANTUA. PROLOGUE, Two households both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife. ACT I. SCENE I-A public Place. Enter SAMPSON aud GREGORY, armed with Swords and Bucklers. Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry coals. Gre. No, for then we should be colliers, Sam. I mean, au we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. Ay, while we live, draw your neck out of the collar. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-to stand to it; therefore, if thou art moved, thou run'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand; I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave: for the weakest goes to the wall. 23 Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Sam. Fear me not. Gre, No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law on our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Sum. I do bite my thumb, Sir. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay? Gre. No. Sum. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir; but I bite my thumb, Sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir? Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir. Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sum. Well, Sir. 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, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Enter CAPULET, in his Gown; and LADY CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for a sword ? Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And tourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter MONTAGUE, and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet.-Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. 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 beastsThat quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd 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 partizans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part our canker'd 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 further pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. [Exeunt PRINCE, and Attendants; CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, TYBALT, CITIZENS, and Servants. 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 prepared; 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 today ? 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,That most are busied when they are most alone,— Pursued my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause ? Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Ben, See, where he comes: So please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Ah me! sad hours seem long. 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 :-- O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health; This love feel I, that feel no love in this. 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 press'd 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 urg'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; [Going. And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. 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 marksman!-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair cóż, 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 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, 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. He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget SCENE II-A Street. 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. And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Such, amongst view of many, mine being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none. Come, go with me!-Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out, Whose names are written there, [Gives a puper] 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 burn ing, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Rom. Your plaintain leaf is excellent for that. 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-Good-e'en, good fellow. Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, sir, can you read ? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd 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. [Reads. 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. A fair assembly; [Gives back the note.] 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 asked 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 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 La. Cap. 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, lady-bird!→ Jul. How now, who calls? La. Cup. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,- La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. And since that time it is eleven years: I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule? quoth he: And pretty fool, it stinted, and said—áy. 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: A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone; A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly. 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: La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers: by my count, Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. This night you shall behold him at our feast: This precious book of love, this unbound lover, Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by men. La. Cap. 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 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 stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek 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: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; 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 burden do I sink. Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous; 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: [Putting on a Mush. A visor for a visor!-what care I, Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, 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 Mer. I mean, Sir, in delay, We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. 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 you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes Drawn with a team of little atomies Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Supper is done, and we shall come too late, Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives, With this night's revels; and expire the term [Exeunt. SCENE V.-A Hall in CAPULET'S House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. 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 unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. 1 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! 2 Serv. Ay, boy: ready. 1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.-Cheer ly, boys: be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [They retire behind. Enter CAPULET, &c, with the Guests and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! 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 you now? You are 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, ye knaves! and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room has grown too hot.Ab, 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. 1 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 Cup. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, Sir; His son is thirty. 1 Cup. 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 bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :- Cap. Why, how now, kinsman ? wherefore storm you so? Tyb. Uncle, that is a Montague, our foe; 1 Cap. Young Romeo is't? Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. 1 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-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. 1 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 will set a cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! 1 Cap. Go to, go to. You are a saucy boy :-Is't so, indeed?— [Exit. 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 prayer. 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 yours, my sin is purg'd. [Kissing 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. Jul. You kiss by the 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, I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night :- [Exeunt all but JULIET and NURSE. Jul. Come hither, nurse; What is yon gentleman ? Nurse, The son and heir of old Tiberio. Jul. What's he, that now he 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, |